The Sundered Clan

[Pyra]

Homecoming: Or, A Page in the History of the Sundered Clan

Prelude

The Mage Tower on Raji is home to one of the Twenty Guilds of the Retroverse. There is no other place that gives a more thorough grounding in the art of elemental spells. The guilds which train a full Mage in the finer points of a specific element can only add to that basic yet complete training. Thus, it is no surprise that the students who show the most promise from all six worldsflock to Nimbus City in hopes that they will earn a place in the apprentice chambers. Which is why no one remarked on the hatchling dragon walking through the streets of Nimbus City. Admittedly, most hatchlings that size on Raji stayed on Dragon Isle, but a few were known to fly up to seek apprenticeships off their home Isle. The fact that this particular hatchling was eyeing everything and everyone very carefully was also but to be expected. The only people that lived down on the Isle were Dragons, and the only buildings of any size were part of the Mausoleum commemorating some happening some time ago that no one really needed to remember. So the young dragon proceeded to the Tower at the city's center, generally ignored by the local citizenry.

She entered the Tower's base, eyeing the trophies on the walls nervously. As there was nothing alive there, she ventured farther in, and up the stairs. At the next landing there was an open door, and within the room, a large book rested on a table. She slipped in soundlessly on the thick carpeting, and examined the tome. It was titled, in the common tongue, 'The Compiled Basic Guild Book, By Palaskar'. Some time later, one of the more senior mages walked down to the study and found her curled up on the floor by the fire, delicately turning the pages. He cleared his throat and she immediately snapped her head around, looking startled. She spoke in the Drakhen language, which the mage, being an Arcanus, did not understand beyond the translations for some names.

He inquired, "Do you speak the Common tongue ?" Looking at the open book he added, "I know you can read it." She flushed crimson under her colorless scales.

"I wasss told that I needsss ssspeak the younger tongue for it isss the one all racesss know. I apologize for forgetting my mannersss and addressssssing you in a tongue that you did not underssstand." He blinked. She spoke Common well enough, but her phrasing was of a different era. Curious now, he decided to find out where this oddly polite dragon came from, circumspectly of course.
"Have you come to study magecraft, young one?"

"That isss why I journeyed here, yesss."

"Have you any background in spellcasting, then?"

"My father inssstructed me in the bare rudimentsss, but it wasss made known to me that I could only further my learning here."
Another odd phrasing, or an odder statement. The mage shifted to a more direct route to satisfy his curiousity.

"What name do you go by?" She blinked, looking almost nervous. And when she named herself, the last syllable was cut off rather abruptly. It sounded like "Pyra".

"Pyra is it? Meaning fire, using a singular, feminine construct in a derivation of the traditional Drakhen language." The mage enjoyed displaying his knowledge of the esoteric, and had the hint he needed to solve his puzzle. "You aren't from Dragon Isle. They either use traditional names or completely modern ones there. You
must be from Sosel, and a rather progressive clan. I know the progressive movement prides itself on honoring their roots without holding to the traditional rigid cultural structures." The mage felt confident that he had impressed this young one with his knowledge of her race, though he could not quite identify her expression. It couldn't be relief, he decided, but perhaps wonder that he cared enough about potential pupils to have learned about the cultures
of the various races that study magecraft. "You are from Edon, I expect."

She still had that slightly odd expression on her face, though a dragon's 'face' was built on much different lines than a humanoid’s, but she replied, "Yesss, I did come to the Tower from Edon." He smiled, curiosity sated. Her odd phrasings were a bit out of line with the picture he had spun, but it was the most logical conclusion.

"All we need to do is assess your proficiencies in the spells and skills you already know, and then we'll assign you space in the
apprentice chambers. Welcome to the Mage Guild, Pyra."

The young dragon, who henceforth would be known as Pyra,
simply smiled and followed the mage.

[Pyra]

Chapter the First: Ruminations while Resting

[Editor's Note: The following text has been organized from a series of journals the author kept during her recent visit to her birth home. Edited by Fandrel Sorinth, Arcanus, and research Magus of the Mage Guild]

It is nearly sun-high again. I was not going to start using up my supply of paper and ink until I had gotten back into clan lands, where there would be more interesting memories to record, but after a few weeks of fighting my way through this jungle, and of nothing to do except practice my utility spells when I am too weary to walk, I need something else to occupy me. If I run low on paper, I am sure I can cadge more sheets from someone when I get home, even if I have to barter for the paper by hunting double meals or searing away the vegetation from around their workshop. The ink at least is made from charcoal, which I can cook up without help.

Every tale must have a beginning, and I have nothing else to do right now. I am safe enough in my shelter, so I may as well set my memories to words and know I will remember them later. Thus, to begin, this journey was caused by the end of another. After a few millennia of study in the Mage Tower, I have finally mastered the last level of spells, and to a degree many of my colleagues either do not, or cannot, achieve. I recover from spellcasting more slowly than most, so I am unwilling to waste my energy on failure, or, Bright Lord forbid, from fumbling. If I were prone to setting myself and my surroundings on fire regularly, I would be of little use to anyone, and lose face from my ineptness. There are still some spells I need to perfect, but none that I use with any regularity. I have not visited my clan before this because to travel home requires me to sneak through some particularly rough territory. It is only of late that my experience in battle has progressed to where I believe I can reach my clan's territory without visiting the Judgment Fields. And having to begin my travels over from my lair.

So this is how my days have gone by, these long weeks. I move through the Soselian jungle carefully, stopping to hunt and rest frequently. While being able to cause massive magical damage to foes is a strength of my guild's training, the training to travel far distances on one's own feet is another guild's forte. While traveling, I need to stay alert for scents of Sosel's more dangerous denizens. Being very young, for my race, it would not be wise for me to run afoul of anything that could bite my head off. It was an interesting enough experience the first time, and one I do not care to repeat.

In most parts of Sosel, it is safer to fly over the jungle and requires less effort than plowing through the vegetation, but this close to my clan's lands, taking to the air is too dangerous. My clan deliberately does not hunt the pteradons outside of our lands, and the results have become a formidable airborne barrier, even to other dragons. The behemoth dinosaurs easily dwarf what I think of as my "snacks" closer to Edon and the more civilized parts of the planet.

Finding my way home is easy enough, as a tributary of the river that flows near Edon has its source in the ring of 'mountains' that surround my clan's lands. We still refer to them as mountains, even though the tallest does not even pierce the canopy. They are sufficient for us to have an extensive network of lairs, guild halls, and craft halls throughout them, nonetheless. And, if I am where I think I am, one of the passes through the mountains is only a day's travel from here.

It will be good to be home again, to see the newest hatchlings and the rest of my family, to hear what kind of trouble my sister has been causing, and to just be back with what is one of the oddest dragon clans in the Retroverse. I had to leave home before I realized just how different we were. Perhaps when I arrive I will learn more about why. But for now, I am rested. It is time to keep moving.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Second: Arrival in the Evening

Sun-high, two days later

Home again, and with a small lair to call my own for as long as I stay. Not my old lair, of course...it would be too tight a fit for me now. When I left home, I was less than ten feet in length, and still had not grown into my frame. Now, at twelve and a half feet, I've nearly filled out in proportion to my height, though I will never grow any taller. Another side effect that sets me apart from the rest of my non-Gifted race. But enough of this. It will be millennia yet before my lack of height could become an issue, and I will deal with it when the time comes.

I managed to clear the pass at dusk last evening, and settled down to rest and get my bearings. The home territory is like an oblate bowl, ringed by rocky ridges where all the guild halls, the Elders' cavern, and most of my kin make their lairs. Within this bowl, which is a day's flight across the narrow width and a night's flight across the broader expanse, streams meander down from the heights to the central lake. The lake is inside another ridge encircled bowl, only half an hour's flight in breadth. It is ringed by vegetation, small prey animals, and a wide sandy beach. Which is why the familial lairs are always sited in the cliffs above the lake. There are also a few craft halls there, those who need a large supply of water handy, such as the weapon and armor crafters, or those who have offspring, and do not wish to have their halls and their lairs half a night's flight apart. Like my mother.

The Elders also appointed half a dozen fighters and rangers to have what is as close as my clan needs to a sentinel guild hall in the central cliffs. Their job is to make sure no large predators venture near the familial lairs, to protect the hatchlings and younglings. Generally, if one of my kin runs into some predator that is too tough to handle, he can simply fly out of danger, and mention where to find said beast to anyone who enjoys a challenge. But in the early days of my clan, a Deinonychosaur that was easily fifty feet in length penetrated down to the lake shore and happened upon one of my many times great aunts and her hatchling, who was too young to fly. She died fighting, holding it off long enough for her mate to show up and finish it off, but the damage was done. Nearly half of my kin prefer to create articles for clan use or to practice magic, which makes them less able to take on the nastier carnivores in our lands than those who study the art of weapons-work. Those that do enjoy physical combat started taking patrolling shifts around the central cliffs, thus forming the roots of our current guardian guild. It is unique to our clan. When my brother disappeared from the beach, leaving only a few prints and some scales behind, the number of guardians was doubled, not too long before I left. Admittedly, only two casualties in the long ages the clan has existed is unheard of anywhere else in the six worlds. I just wish, at times, my sibling had not been one of them.

Morbid thoughts aside, I wanted to find my family before anyone else knew I was back, partly because I wanted to know how the clan had taken my abrupt departure. A few of my more adventurous kin have gone out into the wider world, to see how things have changed, and to find mates, sometimes, but until I left, they all had been well past ten millennia, and considered full adults for many, many years. I had barely passed my first millennia when I left.

From my vantage point, I believed I was opposite of my mother's craft hall, and five degrees south of the home lair. I took off on a northern heading, and managed to make it to the central cliffs and my mother's hall before needing to land and rest. I was too tired to handle even another fifteen minute flight at that point, and the hall's door was ajar, so I slipped in to take a nap. Then it occurred to me that if the door was open, my mother was probably here too.

(Editor's Note: Further discourse on the culture and history of the Sundered Clan that is not necessary for understanding the acts and motives of its members has been excised, organized, and placed in appendices for brevity's sake, which interested scholars can read at their leisure.)

[Pyra]

Chapter the Third: A Meeting with Mother

I climbed the stairs and found her in the main sunroom, cleaning up after a finished project. She was several sizes larger than I remembered, but I had grown as well. I was still attempting to phrase a proper greeting when she scented my presence first.

Mother still had her back to me when she began saying, < Ssur'lau, if your furry food-pets have gotten loose again, you need to construct a better fence. This is the last time... >. She trailed off, then whipped her head around to face me. And stared.

Her reaction made me nervous, but I found my voice. <Greetings, Mother. I have come home for a visit...> I trailed off as she walked over, easily towering over my slight frame. My worries were effectively silenced as she enveloped me with her wings in the first proper hug I had had in a long time.

< Welcome home, Pir >

Reassured, I ventured tentatively, <I was not dishonored by my departing from clan lands without permission from the Elders?>

Mother chuckled softly. <Since when are younglings allowed to have honor? When you finish your fast growth you /may/ have lived long enough to worry about such things.>

<It did not feel very honorable, departing so abruptly, and depriving you of a second hatchling so soon after the first...>

Mother blinked, then exclaimed <You little shell-brain! Is that why you did not return sooner!?>

<No. There were...complications. I did not want to be a disgrace to the clan when I returned. It has only been lately that I have felt I would be able to defend myself adequately to survive traveling here unaided.>

<How did you survive traveling out, then? If you could not have returned until now because of the danger, you could not have safely left.>

<I had help. We aren't expected to know anything about what it means to be Gifted, so a guide was sent to help me to the Mage Tower>

Mother eyed me for a long moment. <Was that ‘guide’ related to the 'ghost dragon' Ssur was speaking of>

<The same being. Same class of beings at least. Their appearance alters by planet, but they have the same function.>

<Which is?>

<Um, help new Gifteds cope. Essentially.> I did not want to go into too much detail. Half of what I am wouldn't be believed. I was surprised to hear that my sister had seen my guide, the first time one came. I though I had been alone.

<Not going to be more specific?>, Mother inquired dryly.

<Only if you want me to talk all night.> I started yawning at that point, weary from the flight in.

<I think I need to take a nap before I stop being coherent.>

Mother snorted amusedly and gestured towards one of the tunnels leading out of the sunroom. <Go, sleep. After this much time, we can wait until you are rested to finish catching up.> She suddenly broke out in an evil grin. < I would warn you not to tarry too long in coming to the lair, or your sister is going to come looking for you.>

The first thought upon hearing that tidbit was 'Oh, great', but I did need to get some sleep at that point. And I did sleep well, knowing I was home, regardless of what the morrow would bring.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Fourth: A Replay of Sibling Rivalries

I awoke at sunset, rested, and ready to go see my parents and sister. The path between my mother's crafthall and the family lair was still fairly well-worn, so I chose to walk home rather than fly. I also wanted a small snack. I had just finished chewing, and was continuing down the path when I caught my sister's scent from upwind. We had always gotten along as well as any siblings do, to whit, I slowed down in case she had a welcome home 'present' for me. Not that that made any difference. I was halfway around a massive tree-trunk when I caught sight of my little sister, evil grin wreathing her Azure snout, just finishing a spell cast. 'Water of the depths, hear my plea, break open the ground and come to ME!.' A geyser of water exploded from the ground, completely soaking us both. She must have been waiting to ambush me for hours.

I growled softly and shifted to a stalking stance. <That's it, Ssuri..>

She interjected, <I am /not/ Food!>, then turned tail and bounded towards our parents lair. It appeared time for me to reestablish my elder sibling status. I took off after her, tucking my wings tightly against my sides so they wouldn't snag while I was running. We thundered up the path at a full gallop. Ssur'lau had the advantage of having lived here her entire life, but I was older, and I was soaked. I hate getting wet. She reached the lair first by a bare margin and bolted for the main cavern. I couldn't smell either Mother or Father in the immediate vicinity. It was like old times. My siblings and I had spent most of our lives together trying to one-up each other, in between practicing hunting, and getting disciplined by our parents when we teamed up to disobey parental laws, before our brother died, and I departed for outside world, and the Mage Tower.

As I thundered into the cavern, Ssur'lau managed to ambush me and rolled me over. I countered by hooking a wing-tip around her foot, pulling myself up and her down. She rolled free and leaped for the air, trying to dive on top of me. I ducked under her and smacked her nose with my tail as I passed. She let out an aggrieved cheep and dove at me again. This continued until our wrestling match ended in a draw. She was sprawled on my wing and tail, and had her tail lodged under my horns, which kept my head flat on the ground, but I was crouched over most of her, keeping her pinned with my weight.

<So...since neither of us can get up, who won?>

<I think...it's a draw. This time.>

<Agreed...now get off my wing!>

<Can't...you're sitting on me.>

<I can't get up with your fat tail on my wing.>

<My tail is not fat!>

A familiar voice broke in, <It sounds like someone is finally awake.> I tried to turn so I could look at my father while speaking to him, but the tail pinning my neck made the attempt futile. I heard Father walk into the cavern, pause, then turn and walk out again. A moment later I could him shouting down the hall <Dear, I believe you need to come see this.> I knew I was never going to live this down.

The next few events confirmed this. Mother strolled in, took one look at the youngling-ball tangled in the middle of the cavern and started laughing. Hysterically. Ssur started cheeping pitifully in an attempt to garner sympathy. I settled for looking put-upon, as well as I could being twisted to one side. Father strode over to us and asked, <Are you two through now?> When we assented, he solved the problem of us being stuck by picking me up, and letting Ssur roll off of the rest of me. Father may be a mage, but he is still three times my size. He also noticed we were still fairly soaked.

<So, what brought this on?> Father inquired.

<A welcome home geyser. Courtesy of that grinning blue imp over there.> I gestured at Ssur, who showed me the length of her tongue in response.

<I was practicing my spells. She just walked in on me at the wrong time.> Ssur's attempt at playing innocent was marred by the smirk she couldn't keep off her face. This of course was the wrong thing to say when your father is a mage. Two minutes later, the lecture on 'Why practicing spells in highly traveled areas is not done' was well underway with no signs of stopping any time soon. I had been given this lecture before, so I was replaying the events of the last day when one of Sur's rebuttals penetrated my musings.

<But Aunt Fiar'ylem said I if I managed to create a geyser properly five tries out of six she would begin teaching me how to brew drinks.>

That was the last piece needed to bring together the notion that had begun coalescing last evening.

I walked over to where Mother was waiting patiently for the scolding to conclude and asked, <Ssur is a throwback, isn't she?>

Mother snorted. <You finally noticed? Getting geysered wasn't a big enough hint?>

< She wasn't old enough to use magic when I left. I was barely old enough to. And I only just had a minute to to think through what I had noticed earlier.>

Mother looked amused. <You never did pay attention well if it wasn't edible.> I shrugged. She was right, but in my defense, I had been a hatchling at the time, and all young dragons are interested in two things, food and sleep.

<She has been doing quite well in her studies, but she can tell you all about that. I want to hear what you have been up to.>

Father was finishing off his lecture with an example of what had happened when he had been practicing casting Cyanide in his youngling days. Mother waited until he was done, then suggested we move farther indoors to where we could all stretch out and have a proper talk. I trailed along behind them with Ssur, who was looking thoughtful. I started thinking about what I wanted to say, and what I wasn't, to prepare for the impending marathon catching-up session.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Fifth: Of Fireballs...

We settled down in the conversational alcove, the one with the sculpted floor. Some of my relatives who specialize in stonecrafting have spent tens of thousands of years perfecting their design, creating a surface any person of any size can recline upon with ease. Just one of the things I miss in the wider world.

<So>, Mother asked, <What have you been about Outside?>

<Studying my spells, hunting, alone or with friends, sleeping, eating...much of what I would have been doing had I never needed to leave.>

<Pretend this is a story and tell it /properly/.> Mother commanded. So I did, starting at the beginning. I related what my leave-taking journey had been like, mostly spent interrogating my 'guide' on every topic it let slip. Not that I had actually understood most of what it had been saying until I had a better context to put things in, but there were some useful bits, here and there. I kept my
tale to the practical aspects, what I saw, what I ate, and what I was told about the Mage Tower, avoiding any topic that would emphasize the critical differences twixt Gifteds and all else. Then I recounted the next stage of my journey, into Edon.

<...So I decided to go into the Rampant Rex to see what a 'bar' was.>

<I've heard of those,> Father commented. <Tleth'ting has said they are places where those who can't hunt trade gold for food.> Father snorted at the thought of wasting gold on something any self-respecting being could hunt or forage.

<They also seem to serve the same function as the Lairs. Half the beings that frequent them are there for conversation as much as food and drink. In any case, I walked in...>

I remember that the place seemed so odd, being the first above-ground building I had ever been in. There were so many different races there, so many different scents that it had been nigh overwhelming. I had sat down in a corner to gather my wits and decide what to do next when a mature Dragonian woman walked over to me. I know now she was one of the Huntresses that dwell in Drakhen-Mon. She asked me why I was there, what a child so young was playing at, being out of my nest. I hadn't known how to reply, because I didn't know the answer myself. She became frustrated, I suppose at my reticence. I believe she believed she was trying to give aid to what she thought was a lost child. Then she asked for my name, to try to discover what clan I left behind. Innocently, I had told her, that I was Pir'rahl t' Krial-dien. The Dragonian blanched and eyed me nervously before leaving abruptly.

<...I didn't know what to think, so I left too. My guide pointed me to the local Adventurer's Guildhall, where I could use the transport to reach Raji.>

<Did you ever discover what panicked the half-blood?> Father looked thoughtful.

<I have an idea. Let me recount the next part of my trip and it will be obvious.>

Father nodded, so I continued telling about how I found the Mage guild, the tallest tower in the center of Nimbus City. I knew I was supposed to go into the study, but not exactly where it was, or who I was looking for. I did not even know who Kilburn was until I few weeks after I had been living in the Apprentices Quarters. Then I saw the book. An actual book, not a scroll. When Master Fandrel
found me, I was halfway through the tome and oblivious to the world. He startled me out of my book and out of remembering any version of Common besides the formal version. Then when he asked my name, I barely squeaked out the first syllables, remembering what had happened the last time someone had asked my name.

< He decided that I had said I was called 'Pyra', and it stuck. Fortuitously, as I found out, because everyone assumed I was from a progressive clan, from somewhere around Edon. The only other Dragons who use the traditional naming are the most hide-bound Isolationists from Dragon Isle.>

My parents put two and two together very well, picking up on why, or at least what I thought why, the Dragonian had panicked, namely, that she had figured I was a child of an Isolationist clan and therefore dangerous for a half-blood to be around. Then Mother hit on the other angle of my taking a different name Outside.

<Avoiding being associated with the Isolationist was well done, if unintentional. Ensuring that no one would pry into where you came from was very well done. Anything unusual excites curiosity...> Mother waited for me to finish the truism.

<...And ensuring what was hidden long ago stays that way is important over all else. I remember.> I remember the stories about the Age of Wanderings when the Elders fled the purity purges. Risking the clan's safety is something no one will do, clan born or clan adopted.

I think Mother's comment was meant to reinforce a lesson for Ssur, because Father gestured for me to continue my recital. I covered my first few centuries, exploring the length and breadth of the Six Worlds, finding or causing trouble, and sometimes ending it. Describing the various races that inhabit each world made Ssur happy. She's always been fascinated by the animals that live here, and most races in the wider world are far stranger that the locals. The descriptions of the kinds of armors I had seen elicited the most questions from Mother, but the discussion about what I was learning in the Mage guild proper for the last millennia with Father took on a life of its own. Particularly once we started in on how the spells I studied differ from the ones he learned at our Mage Guildhall. The targeted spells were the same. Father only chose to learn the Earth and Water based spells, but the principles are the same for all the elements. On the other claw, there was a rather important difference in the area effect spells. I maintained that by 'puckering' the fringes with a designation declarative, one could except up to seven others from the effects of the casting. Father had never heard of such a thing.

Upon reflection, what I did next was not a good idea, but it was effective. I began the gestures for my favorite area spell subtly, taking care to include the extra declaratives that would exclude my family from its range, the same method I use when I'm hunting in a group of other Gifteds. A few heartbeats later, the structure of the spell was set, properly, and ready to be set loose.

'SSSkin and flesssh that quickly ssscald, I call upon a fireball!.'

The resulting flurry of fireballs flying around the room made everyone leap up abruptly, and interrupted what Father was about to say.

<And what was that supposed to be?> Father was...cranky.

<A demonstration says more than a night's worth of talk. And I have been. Talking all night I mean. Isn't it your turn yet? I haven't heard anything about what's been going on around here since I left.>

<Fair enough. You're starting to use hatchling grammar again.> Mother would recognize the signs of a tired youngling faster than anyone, for which I was grateful.

I nodded tiredly, accepting the inherent rebuke and settled down back down in my niche. Then it was my turn to listen.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Sixth: ...and Farmers

Much of the news my parents had for me is less than interesting. My family is very important to me, but most clan members are no more than a name and a short description to me. My closest kin, the ones that had been around often when I was growing up, or in some cases, the ones that had helped my parents keep an eye on three rambunctious hatchlings, I know better. The Elders I know more of because they are part of the clan histories, but I do not know them outside of the beginnings tales. Also, while I need to remember that this aunt had worked out a better way to enchant maces, or that this third cousin has competed his training as a Ranger, such things will only be of use if I run into them. But other news is more important, to me as well as the clan.

There are two new hatchlings born since I've been away, among the first of the sixth generation, as I am one of the last the fifth generation. One is a child of a third cousin and his mate, hatched soon after my leaving, the other born to my only maternal first cousin, Enihl'Shrin, less than a century ago. Such news should be happy. I wish it was.

I remember hearing the tales about my mother-sister, how she departed to the outer world to seek a mate and found one. And when they returned, she and he, they were content for an age, and my cousin was hatched, one of the first of the fifth generation. But not long after, he forsook his family and chose banishment, to return to the outer world. Why I do not know, and may never know, but something that could separate mate from mate and child must have been a powerful binding indeed. And I remember that my cousin also chose to seek a mate Outside and at a very young age for one of us. Well, it was a young age. The youngest generations are maturing faster, now that I think about it. The blood of the Age of Dragons running thin, perhaps

I remember hearing that my aunt was opposed to my cousin's sojourn, even though she planned to stay only a century or two, scouting the outside world and perhaps learning a few skills that we do not have to teach. I remember that she too found a mate and returned, not long before I was hatched. Now, I know that my new young cousin too has no father, for he also returned to the outside world with a vendetta to finish, and he has not returned.

One of the elders studied telemancy before the purges, and so is the one who opens portals so that we can depart if need be, and so that we may return. I am the only one to have departed and returned here on foot since our clan’s founding, I believe…That would mean that besides the Elders, I am the only one who knows where here is, in relation to the rest of Sosel. That is an unsettling thought.

Mother told me that twice now, a gate has been opened between my cousin's mate’s location and here, and twice he has not returned. If he chooses not to return the third time, there will be no more attempts to bring him home. We will have to assume that he does not wish to return. And we know he still lives, else the portal would not open. The only other way to find out the truth of things is if my cousin chooses to go out again, and find him herself. But she will not with a child to care for. Hatchlings are too precious.

The other news of import that Skir’tarn, my mother’s father, was trying to increase the number of guardians that seek out threats around the central lake. He has been in charge of the Guard since he came to the clan, and takes his duties with a seriousness that would fit in well in a battleground. Listening to what was not said, I think Father believes the Elders believe that Skir’tarn is jumping at shadows, so to speak. He is not so sure, because we still do not know what happened to my brother. I am not so sure either, and my experience in fighting and exploring is telling me that something is wrong, but I have no idea what, not without more information. And of course, I then stuck my foot in my mouth so that I couldn’t bring up my reservations.

Ssur had been waiting patiently for our parents to finish speaking. She was starting to shift around from excitement when Mother said, <All right Ssur, you can tell Pir what you’ve been working on with Aunt Fiar now.>

She smiled happily and started rapidly laying out this project they had been working on, hunting down the larger mammals that live in the jungle that cover most of the clan’s territory, but instead of killing them, catching them, and keeping them in enclosures down here in the bowl. The wild ones they caught panicked any time they caught sight of a dragon, but then Ssur began taking their young away and petting them and hand feeding them. A few generations later, the beasts not only did not panic at the sight or scent of dragon, they would come looking for special treats any time they heard Ssur or Aunt Fiar’ylem. Ssur didn’t say why they were playing with food, but I am assuming there must be some druidic reason for the project.

The description of what they were doing reminded me of the Sco’land people, the ones who kept animals penned up near their homes. The ones who often importuned traveler to aid them with the small problems that seem to crop up around there. Seeing the parallel, I said, <Oh, so now you’re a farmer!>, and burst out laughing. I was trying to catch my breath to explain the joke to Ssur, when she shrieked at me, burst into tears and stormed out. Mother and Father didn’t give me a chance to explain either. Mother growled and went after Ssur. Father glared at me and informed me in the formal tongue that I would be spending the next few days with him in the Mage Hall demonstrating the new variation to area spells I had learned until the rest of the mages that wanted to learn that trick figured it out. Then he left the room as well, after gesturing to the tunnel I could follow to reach a lair I could use.

I have not been home for two days and I have already apparently picked a fight with my sister, annoyed my parents, and been grounded under my father’s supervision. Maybe this was not a good idea. Or maybe it is just me. I hope I can figure out what I did after I sleep on it, or my visit home is going to be a very short one.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Seventh: Skir-tarn

Some weeks later

Father and I had been at the Mage Hall for the last few weeks. I think I will not tell Master Kilburn, but the Hall covers more ground than the Tower does, and the records stored there are far older. A few of the oldest scrolls have hermetic spells from the Age of Dragons, but only a few of the older mages can use them. Fortunately for the Retroverse in general. From what little I’ve found out about them, trying to cast one without the proper breadth of experience and wisdom would permanently destroy the mind of your average Discordian, let alone your average Mage. Not that I will ever be able to use them, but it is nice to know that if any outsiders ever do find my clan, there are some nasty surprises waiting for them.

Other than some teasing from a few of my cousins that are close to my age, no one even mentioned my absence. I had been gone, I have returned, and life goes on as it always will. The style of spellcasting I use is more modern than the rest of my kin use, but the differences are minute (and only of interest to other mages. Section removed for brevity. Ed.) I think that in a few more years of experimentation, Uncle Rurh’okre will refine the crude method of adding exceptions into area spells we found into something elegant that the others who look to Mage Hall can learn.

Two days later

I woke up yesterday morning in my temporary lair in the Hall when I heard the ground shake. Father stuck his head in my lair a few minutes later and gestured me to follow. Now, Father is three times my size, pushing forty feet. Grandfather Skir’tarn, my mother’s father, who had just landed outside the Hall, is three times that again, over one hundred and twenty feet. He has been in charge of the Guardians for as long as he has been a member of the clan, which has been a very long time.

He nodded to my father when we emerged and said, <Fair hunting Krial. I see you and Dien survived having this young trouble-maker return.>

Father looked amused. <Nothing has been set ablaze, yet.> Honestly, it was just that one time I wanted to play with a campfire one of my cousins built. Nothing important got scorched. He continued, <You wanted to speak with Pir about something?>

Grandfather nodded. <I wish to hear what the latest news is yes, but Granny Nosey requested I come find this grandchild and escort her to the Lairs so she can speak with her. So we will walk down, and talk on the way, youngling.> He looked at me then. <I wish to hear if you have been representing us with honor, Outside, whether they realize it or no.> He turned as began descending the cliff path, and I followed. Father returned into the Hall. A few lengths down what Grandfather had said sunk in. The Elders call our matriarch ‘Grandmother’. The rest of us simply call her ‘Eldest’, because she is the oldest member of our clan, probably on of the oldest members of our race still living. I have heard rumors from my adopted clan of Bane, but I do no think he is actually alive any more in any sense of the word. Grandfather is the only member of the clan that dares refer to the Eldest as Granny Nosey. The only clan member to have the audacity to, but I suppose if he wasn’t an iconoclast, he wouldn’t have ended up here.

We had been on foot for perhaps half an hour when we found a bison upwind of us on the path. Grandfather looked at it, looked at me, and gestured that I could take it. It was about half my size, and I wanted a clean kill, so I used a Dehydrate.

'Feel the firesss, feel the flamesss, feel the burning in your brain!.'

It went up in beautiful multi-colored flames, incinerating the hair off and leaving a well cooked meal behind. Grandfather nodded in approval.

We continued on after I had snacked and after a time he asked me, <How would you have gone about that if you had been alone?>

<The same way I did here. It was not big enough for me not have killed on with one spell. And I do not think it could strike me hard enough to lose my concentration.>

The rest of the walk down to the Lairs was spent with Grandfather questioning me on battle tactics. And the places I had hunted in. I didn’t mention all the times I had had a chat with Zaraklyn, but he had me speak on just about everything else I could remember. Thinking about that now, I am concluding he was making sure I knew when to fight and when to run to keep my hide intact. But why? It is not as though I am going to run into anything I cannot handle below the inner cliffs, because the Guardians makes sure to take out anything too large and aggressive around there. And if I need or want to go someplace in the outer cliffs, since I’m still a youngling, one of the adults will go with me. Well, that is why I brought this journal along, not just to record anything I do not want to forget, but so I can see my memories and draw clearer conclusions if I do not understand something. This qualifies.

What do I know about Grandfather Skir’tarn? I know he is the largest member of the clan, save for the Eldest, and she is only a few feet taller. I know he is the mate of my grandmother Anath’laurh, who is half his size, the smallest third generation member of the clan and the only dedicated biomancer. I do not think she knows any offensive spells outside of Destroy Spiritus. I know that she met Grandfather on Welstar, and they are the only members of the clan except for me, that I know of, to have traveled off of Sosel to a different world. I now know Grandfather practices a hard style of the Monk’s path, as well as having a mastery of every form of weapon that exists. I know he is acknowledged to be the most formidable warrior in the clan, and he takes his duties seriously. I know he spends much of the time he is not on patrol or with Grandmother Anath talking with the Eldest. About what no one knows. As no one knows what age he was hatched in, where he was trained in battle skills or how my Grandmother came to choose him as her mate. They are as different as black and white. I know that he has two daughters, my mother and my aunt, and three granddaughters. And one great-granddaughter. I remember that the day my brother disappeared that he was the second person to know something was wrong, and he led the search to find out what happened.

Oh. That might explain why Grandfather was so insistent on hearing about how I had acquitted myself in nearly every solo battle I have ever been in. I remember that before I left, no one could say what happened that day. My brother was just gone, and except for a few scales, there was no sign of what had happened. There were adults in the area, so it was known that no pteradon could have swooped in. No pteradon large enough to carry of a hatchling is allowed near the inner cliffs let alone past them. There was no good explanation for what happened that day. And if something had been turned up while I was away, I would have been told by now. Grandfather would have told me even if my parents didn’t think or want to, so I wouldn’t still be wondering. And my parents did mention that Grandfather was still pushing the Guardians to more intense patrols that are not strictly needed for what threats we know of.

That means he believes that there is something unknown that needs to be found. Something that can snatch a hatchling without a sound from the most protected place in the clan. No wonder he was questioning me so closely. If there is something out there, that no one has found in the last few millennia at least, it might not be gone. Dragons are not the only immortal race after all. And I am of direct descent from him, so he would take special care to know I am safe, or can keep myself safe. But on the other claw, if there is something out there, why hasn’t it attacked again? I could, no, no I can’t. I can’t ask Grandfather to see if my reasoning is sound. If there is or was some unknown threat, it got in on Grandfather’s watch, which would count as a grave dishonor, because it has not been found, and the death avenged in blood. At least it would if I am understanding how honor works properly.

I need leave these quandaries alone for a time and come back to them later. A third reading may show some points I missed. I still haven’t set down what transpired in my meeting with the Eldest, and I have time to do so now.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Eighth: Interviewed by the Eldest

We reached the Lairs by nightfall, and Grandfather left me outside when he went in to tell the Eldest that we had arrived. Or so I suppose. I do not know what they were talking about before he came back out and gestured for me to enter. He left on patrol, then, and I entered the massive cave complex alone.

The Lairs are an extensive natural cave formation, the largest one in clan lands. All other lairs and Halls were extended from the original caves and crevices. In the first days, the entire clan lived there, and even today all of my kin could still fit in there easily, though that will not be true in another generation or two. Besides being the Eldest’s lair, the artifacts from the Age of Wanderings that are heirlooms from the years of flight are stored there, since most are too dangerous to leave lying around. Some of the weapons are borrowed by the Guardians if they’re hunting something particularly nasty, but generally our own clan forged gear is more than adequate. It is not as though the local dinosaurs are going to start wielding spells or using aught but their own natural weaponry. Frankly, those artifacts are not spoken of, especially to younglings. The only reason I know about them is because of the time I saw Grandfather equipped with armor pieces and weapons that glowed of magic so brightly that I had to find out what they were. And all I got was that bare-boned explanation.

I had not previously met the matriarch of our clan. She oversees every hatching and gives the proper name to the new child. How she knows what color any of us will wear after we have slept the longest sleep can probably be attributed to Gaia. How she can generally peg which mastery we will choose to study is anyone’s guess. The druids always seem to know things the rest of us do not, and she trained all of them, except my sister, but that will hold true only until she is ready to begin her advanced studies.

I was two steps into the third cavern when she spoke. <Stand fast so thee may be seen child and answer true on thine honor an thou would see the morrow’s dawning.>

I froze then and there, as the meaning of the high tongue phrases came clear. She spoke again in the formal tongue.

<Who are you?> Her tone was challenging.

<I am Pir'rahl t' Krial-dien, child of Krial'kwa t’ Darj’Aerzh and Dien'sol-lal t' Skir-Anath>

<That is thy name and thy lineage. Who are you?>

<I am a mage.>

<That is thy mastery. It is not who you are. Say who you are and say it true.>

<I am a Gifted One.>

She blinked slowly and began again, <A title denotes, but does not explain. Do so. What do you think you are.>

<Someone who knows enough to get into trouble and rarely enough to get back out of it gracefully.>

She blinked again and started on a different angle. <What can you do?>

I couldn’t see any way to answer that other than truthfully, literally, and vaguely. I replied, <I can see the rules that hold our universe together. I can hear the Gods speak. I can travel freely where I will, save in places that are barred to those who are too powerful, too weak, or lacking the proper mastery. I may do anything I am able for, save one thing, and that is to harm those like myself purposely. That is forbidden by those that knit and ravel the fabric of our worlds.>

She reflected upon my reply for a time, then surfaced from her thoughts, saying, <Would you cause harm to any here?>

This question riled me as the others had not. I think now that this questioning was done because I was something completely new to the clan, and anything different can be dangerous. I understand the why of such questions now, but I still abhor the method.

I answered hotly, <I am still of this blood, still a child of your line, still a daughter of my parents. If harm comes here, it will not be of my doing, and I would all I could to thwart it.>

<Why did you return?> She remained implacable.

I sighed, ire spent uselessly. < I know more about the histories and cultures of other races than I do of my own kin. And I do miss my family. Besides the point that I wanted to prove that the training I have received was just as thorough if not more so than what I would have received here.>

The Eldest finally got around to the point of her sharp-tongued queries, which did explain why she had taken such a hostile tone. <You are not wearing the body you are born with. How can this be? Your scent is the same, but you are not the child I saw hatch here.>

That particular point has never occurred to me. I know, intellectually, that the body I get resurrected into after having a chat with Zaraklyn is different than the one I had been wearing. The clones I leave behind prove the point adequately. But, Nameless One take it, I should have realized that it’s different yet again from the one I wore before, when I was just one of the clan’s hatchlings, and knew nothing else. I know that my kin will continue growing, and I will perhaps be another span taller, but no more. I should have known.

I spoke again, slowly, after a time. <I did know we were, changed, somehow. Since we can see and hear things that all other’s cannot. I cannot prove who I am, other than by relating my earliest memories. That would be something only one of the clan would know.>

So that’s how I spent most of last night. I went from my earliest memories until my world was cast asunder and I departed. The edited version of the latter, and I had to dance carefully to keep it edited. She has an adroit way of questioning any hint of faltering. The full tale will stay in my memories. And I will not speak of it again.

The Eldest seemed satisfied by my account. She had settled back down into a looming Rose mountain to listen while I spoke and she questioned. When I finished, she addressed me, saying, <These implications I will think on for a time. I see no harm in you, but I think you can not say the same for others who were changed as you were.>

I flushed crimson. She is correct in that statement. The Dragonslayer guild is no myth. She continued, mouth quirked in response to my blush, <You can sleep here, and Skir’tarn will return in the evening to see you safely back to Mage Hall. Well-trained for your age, I expect you are, to have returned on foot, but ready to traverse the uplands alone, child, I think not.>

She showed me to this alcove, then went back to what-ever she does. Communing with Gaia perhaps. I do not know. I think whatever test she gave me, I passed it, so I can relax now and perhaps figure out how to mend the quarrel I started with Ssur. Even if I have to sit on her so she’ll listen long enough for me to explain the joke.


End Part 1: In Which There Was Much Talking And Little Doing

[Pyra]

Interlude


Kilburn Stratos was sitting in his office, drinking a cup of tea while patiently working his way through the paperwork any Master of one of the Twenty Guilds would have to deal with day to day. Not on the order that the Sentinel Guild saw, but a fair amount of apprenticeship requests, advancement applications, and such. While he was working, an ember-red snout insinuated itself into the room, followed quietly by the other twelve feet of the Theoreticus. She curled her tail around herself cat-like and settled down to wait to be noticed.

The faint scent of heated rock and metal told Kilburn who was waiting to speak with him before he glanced up. There was only one member of the Dragon race studying at the Tower, and she had been studying the first nineteen levels of spells for longer than the life span of most mortal races. Kilburn supposed she had returned from one of her extended sojourns about the six worlds to spend yet another session learning more rarified refinements to the basic structure of one of the lesser spells, refinements that most mages did not or could not learn, and for the most part did not need to learn. Knowing which slight variation of the Earth spell Power Blast would have the best chance of succeeding on Raji when the moon Chlt was full and being occluded by the moon Sn might have a use every millennium or so, but such esoteric tidbits were rarely used and even more rarely studied.

Wondering which obscure spellbook Pyra was after this time, Kilburn looked at her and asked, "Is this year's contribution to the Tower repair fund because you forgot which color of light beam inflicts the most damage on Wysoom, or because you have a wager set on how many pounds of dust I am going to move in finding the text that contains that information?"

Pyra contrived to look offended. She roared, "I did not laugh that loudly when the ssspider fell off of your hat the lassst time you went archive diving, Massster Ssstratosss." She then resumed an innocent expression.

"No, but you did wait to discuss eating it until one of the Neophyte Kreen students was in earshot and frightened it into molting a season early." Kilburn eyed the relatively young dragon with manifest patience and continued sipping from his cooling cup. "Something about 'lightly roasting the exoskeleton until it is crisp and then licking out the gooey innards' as I recall."

Pyra commented, "That isss the bessst way to eat anything that hasss an exossskeleton, Kreen included."

"I still did not need to know that. Now, what is your errand here? It has been some time since you stopped by to shake pieces of the mortar loose."

She glanced around his office, then roared offhandedly, "I thought I would watch the city from the observation dome for a while. Perhapsss meditate on the propertiesss of Air while I am up there. Oh, and I wasss going to sssee if one of the other massstersss would give me the entrance exam for ssstudying the twentieth level ssspellsss, if sssomeone hasss time, of course."

Kilburn inhaled instead of swallowing and turned a fascinating shade of puce. One coughing fit later, he said in a strangled tone, "I must be hearing things. I could have sworn you just said you were going to stop pretending to be an apprentice and graduate to full mage status." He shook his head disbelievingly. “What planet-shaking event convinced you to finally stop postponing your advancement?”

She flushed from red-umber to scarlet. Kilburn raised an eyebrow inquiringly. She replied quietly, for a dragon, "It wasss nothing important. I merely wanted to be sssure I wasss capable enough to minimize any failure in my ssspellsss. I cannot afford to wassste mana on missstakesss, after all."

Kilburn continued to watch her. She shifted her weight about, causing the floor to creak. Finally, she sighed, and whispered, "I am getting homesssick. And getting home unssscathed requiresss my massstery of the highessst ssspellsss." She blinked slowly, then added, “Asss well asss all the experience I have gained in poking my sssnout in every odd corner of the worldsss that I could find. Knowing when to run isss more important than knowing how to fight.”

Kilburn blinked. “I was not aware that Edon City was such a dangerous place.” He paused a moment. “You never did say where you came from, did you?”

“I did not. And I will not. It isss not precisssely sssafe for outlandersss. My kin have long memoriesss. I merely hope they are not going to take my decisssionsss amissssss.” She shook herself out of her thoughts.

Kilburn nodded slowly. “I will not ask you about such things then. I do not think they pertain to your abilities as a Mage and that is my business.”

Pyra nodded gratefully and turned to leave but Kilburn gestured for her to wait.

“A moment, Theoreticus. I believe I have time to give you the final exam myself.”

The watcher removed her attention and withdrew.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Ninth: Of Havoc and Hatchlings
Several weeks later

I did not have to sit on Ssur for her to listen to me. Explaining that I had not been laughing at her partly soothed her. Allowing her to ambush me later that day when I knew full well where she was finished the mending. Honor is satisfied, so I need not offer her any more free attempts on me.

Several months later

When I stopped by the home lair last evening, Mother mentioned that my cousin Enihl'Shrin, who looks to Alchemist Hall, was preparing to begin a project and needed some help hunting for her hatchling, Chir'lal. And since I do not have any pressing tasks, Mother thought that would keep me out of trouble. Ssur'lau was off training with Aunt Fiar'Ylem, or she would have been commandeered for the endeavor as well.

I flew across the lake and picked off a few pterosaurs on my way over to Enihl'Shrin’s lair, reasoning that if I was going to be on hunting duty, it would be best to start early. Her lair is close to being straight across from my mother’s workshop, and linked to her workshop. The doors were ajar, so I slipped inside looking for cousin Enihl, carrying the two kills I had made. A small compact mass hurdled into my knees as soon as I entered the lair, and knocked me flat on my snout. I picked myself up to the sound of loud cheeping.

<Food? Food! Mine, mine, mine!>

The carcasses had landed a length in front of me, and rapidly disappeared into Chir’lal, the little menace. She was a third my size already, and nearing that in mass, judging from how she knocked me sprawling. And a very messy eater. Her colorless scales looked Sanguine with the splatter by the end her meal. She then tried licking the blood off, but that left streaks where she could reach and spots where she couldn’t. Then she burped hugely and turned to stare at me.

<Wash too!>, she chirped. I should have run for it right then. The next thing I know she’s glued herself to my leg and was enthusiastically slobbering all over me. My protestations that I am supposed to be this color were in vain. I was trying to pry her off of me when Enihl entered from the connecting tunnel. She smirked and scooped Chir up when she let go of me and bounded over to her mother.

<I see you have met Chir’lal, Pir.>

<Oh, you could say that.> I sounded grumpy. She grinned wider.

<Come on, cuz. The lake is a short hop away and Chir needs a bath anyway.>

<I hate getting wet!>

<Then how else are you going to wash off?> She was still grinning. I usually walk on lava if I get mussed. Much easier to get cleaned off than splashing about in water. But there are no active volcanoes anywhere on or near clan lands. So we flew over to the lake, with Enihl carrying Chir. She watched the little nuisance as she splashed and blew bubbles and generally had a fine time in the shallow water. I rinsed the baby-spit off and curled up in the sun to dry off the fastest.

I was going to go and catch a snack, after asking Enihl when I should bring the next batch of kills for Chir, when my cousin decided that there was something else I could be doing. She hummed for a moment after I spoke to her, then told me, <I need to go get some components for my project. Keep an eye on Chir while I’m gone will you? She should just sleep, but if she wakes up, I can’t trust her to stay where I leave her.> I believe that is one of the greatest understatements I have heard to date. So we flew back to her lair, Enihl put Chir down for a nap, then left. I decided to take a nap as well. I had nothing else to do and I had been flying for a good bit of the day. Then, far too soon, Chir’lal woke up

The first thing she did was demolish the ores Enihl had left her for a snack. Then she decided I was a toy for her amusement.

<Tail! Tail! My Tail!> I turned to see what she was cheeping about in time to see her narrowly missed her pounce on my nether appendage. She bumped her nose on the floor, then bounced up cheerfully, squealed <My Tail!> and dove for it again. I whipped my tail to curl around my feet. She didn’t care. She crashed into me, knocking me off balance, then wrapped herself around my tail squealing happily. I tried pulling away from her, and ended up dragging her across the floor. She has been eating very well. I couldn’t reach her to try to physically pry her off of me. I’m unfortunately not quite that agile.

I tried snorting puffs of smoke at her as a distraction. It distracted her alright. She thought that was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen and wouldn’t stop bothering me to <Again! Again!>, as she put it. I stopped when I got over-heated. My next mistake of the day. She drifted behind me, and before I realized what she was up to, she had jumped on me, and scrambled to cling between my wings.

<Up, Up!> Squealing right in my ear. It didn’t last long. She was a good bit heavier than I can carry. Seconds after she latched herself onto my neck my legs gave out, and because she didn’t let go, I hit the ground, hard. Only broke three ribs. And cracked my breastbone, from the feel. That got her off of me, because she lost her grip when I hit the ground, and she went flying over my head and thumped into the floor. So I was hurt and she was shrieking. She only was a bit bruised where she skinned her chin on the floor, but she didn’t care. I didn’t want her going hysterical, so I roared as loud as I could. That got her attention. She went silent with a squeak and stared at me wide-eyed.

<Hold still. Stay put. I’ll fix it.> A few minutes later I had a shelter up, and a few minutes after that, Chir’s scrape was healed, she had entirely forgotten that she’d been hurt in the first place, and she was starting to look for more trouble to get into. My ribs were going to take longer to heal, so I finally figured out how to distract the little monster. There was a largish pile of rocks in one corner, probably a cache so Enihl wouldn’t have to go on a long hunt if she just wanted a snack for herself or Chir. I’ve heard other races have issues with playing with their food. Apparently they don’t know what they’re missing. I dug out a largish boulder, carefully because I was still healing, and set it in the middle of the room. Then I gathered up twenty decent sized round rocks. Well, ten largish ones for me and ten smaller ones for Chir. Bob-stones is a venerable game and simple enough for a hatchling. Chir has fairly good aim, for her age. She managed to flick one of her stones into the lord-stone on her first set. And I wasn’t going to tell her the point of the game isn’t really to get the most hits, but to strengthen tail muscles for hunting. My ribs had time to heal over the hours until the shelter spell ran out.

After we had been playing for some time, Chir went from hyper to exhausted abruptly, curled up next to me, and was dead asleep in moments. I eased away from her and settled down to rest and meditate on the feel of the elements here on Sosel. Very relaxing, that. Chir didn’t wake up again until after Enihl returned. We worked out that since hunting is nothing excessively difficult, I wouldn’t require anything in trade, but keeping an eye on Chir was much trouble, so she would trade me paper that she couldn’t use for scrolls in trade for hatchling watching. Which means I am going to be doing this off and on until she finishes her alchemical experiment. The things I’ll do for a supply of writing materials.

I dragged my tired self back to the home lair as Mother was coming in from her workshop. She took one look at me and smirked. I growled, <Very funny, Mother. You could have warned me what I was letting myself in for.>

She smiled sweetly and replied, <I don’t know what you are talking about, dear. You were a bigger handful at her age.>

<I can hardly see how. I feel like my tail has been half pulled off.>

<She’s never crawled into a tree-bole out in the middle of the forest and refused to come out for two days.> She would have had to bring that incident up. I was grounded in the lair for three months afterwards. I snorted and crawled into my portion of the lair. And slept well. I do hope this paper is worth the hassle.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Tenth: A Bard’s Tail
A few years later

It has been a while since I’ve written anything down in here, but I do not want to forget this day’s happenings. And I’ve got a good cache of sheets now, and a steady supply. Enihl’s project is going to take a few more years yet, if my tail holds out that long. Chir is in a rapid growth phase and she gets heavier by the month.

It was a very busy day down by the lake. I had nabbed a snack, a pterosaur, that I dropped into the trees. I made my meal where it landed, and had a good view of the lake. I could see Grandfather was patrolling the beach, which was odd. He usually patrols above the inner cliffs, trawling for any excessively large predators. I’d just finished eating when I caught scent of some dinosaur upwind of me in the trees.

I refreshed my protection spells on a hunch, then I caught the blood-tang scent that told me the dinosaur I was smelling was probably a predator. I put up mirror images and waited for it. I could have flown, but I wanted to see if I could pick it off first. I haven’t been in a serious fight since I came home and I was honestly starting to miss the excitement. Just a little bit.

It was a deinonychosaur, and it wasn’t too big. Bigger than I like to tackle unprepared, but it couldn’t figure out which image I was before I had hit it with two dehydrates and a power word kill. Of course, Grandfather heard the commotion, flew right over and landed by me.

He looked down at me, then shifted his gaze to the burnt and disintegrated corpse. He closed his eyes briefly and rumbled, <Were you looking for trouble?>

<No Grandsire. I was looking for a snack. Pterosaur. While I was eating, I saw you, then caught scent of something moving upwind. So I took precautions. If you were patrolling this far in, there had to have been a reason.>

<Precautions generally include getting airborne, child.>

<I was ready to take off if it had penetrated my mirrors before I killed it. >

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a long stare, then went still, listening. Abruptly he gestured me to get airborne, then settled into a defensive posture, waiting. I took off straight up but didn’t go very far. So I got to see the much larger deinonychosaur come barreling out into the open. And get quickly dismembered. I would have been in trouble, but I’m not over a hundred feet long with ages of battle experience.

Grandfather held still for a moment after his kill had stopped twitching then ruminated for a few moments. When he moved again, it was to turn to look up at me and gesture me down to the canopy.

<Have you mastered both the shelter creation spell and the destruction spell, child?> When I nodded he indicated I was to put a shelter up and I did so. He told me to wait there for him to get back. So I waited in the shelter with the kills until I heard his bellow, then dropped it to let him in, except it was a them. Rurh’kuhn was a smaller grey shadow against Grandfather’s ebon bulk, but, as acting leader of Ranger Hall, he is the best tracker in the clan.

Rurh’kuhn examined my kill and Grandfather’s closely, then cast about the surrounding area looking at the ground. When he circled back in, he did not look happy.

< They both appear to be of the same hatch group. And they came from the same general direction. Which means either we have missed a hatching ground on this level, or a cliff face has crumbled to the point where it is scalable.>

Before they went off to investigate further, Rurh’kuhn skinned and mounted my kill, since the hide was intact. He said it was going to be for teaching the youngest ranger apprentices what the local predators looked like. I wonder if that’s why the Ranger Guild collects such trophies. I had permission to feather weight and carry off Grandfather’s kill, since he wasn’t hungry, and I know a bottomless appetite on four legs who would be very appreciative of the meal.

That wasn’t the end of today’s excitement, though. Before dawn, I was ensconced in my new favorite tree outside the home lair, where I could see the stars and contemplate upon the element Fire. It has a nice thick branch that is just the right size to stretch out on, with a clear view of the sky and the lake. I had mirrors up, just in case anything else wanted to try to make me a snack. I was intending to contemplate, but I napped for a bit first.

An odd humming sound woke me up, which turned out to be emanating from one of the Elders, Aer’thian the Bard. I could see him walking towards the lake upwind from me, humming and plinking a few notes on his zither. Then I saw a ripple in the vegetation behind him. It wasn’t a very big ripple, and Aer’thian is much bigger than I am, so I just watched as the ripple speeded up drastically. I was expecting to see a deinonychosaur or some other small predator come leaping out, since carnosaurs are much bigger, and generally get picked off before they come anywhere near the inner cliffs. It wasn’t either. The ripple became a rather large hatchling, leaping from cover to tackle Aer’thian’s tail and began wrestling and fighting with it. It seems I’m not the only one who that happens to.

Aer’thian turned and said something to the hatchling who froze, then leaped free and burrowed back into the plants. The little one hides very well, but before he could finish getting under cover, Aer’thian reached over and scooped him up, tucking him under one arm. I couldn’t make out what was said then, but the Elder turned and walked along the lake path in my direction. He got close enough for me to hear what they were saying soon enough.

<…said I could go practice hunting!>

< If you are of age to learn that skill you young scallywag, you are of age to discriminate between friend and food!>

<I was stalking a gold snake! I thought I had found it again!>

<The only snakes that grow to such dimensions are piasthas, and I have never seen one scaled or coloured like my tail!>

<I was stalking one, I was! I lost sight of it in the scale-bark trees, but…>

Aer’thian moved past my tree and out of earshot then, the hatchling still tucked under one arm. I think he was taking the hatchling home, since he was a tad young to be out and about alone. But that still wasn’t the funniest thing I saw.

I tried to settle back down for contemplation, but I heard rustling off from the direction they had come from. And lo and behold, a mid-sized, bright gold piastha was eeling through the vegetation below. It’s curled up loosely around a rock right now, where I can see it, and I’m going to keep an eye on it until an adult wanders into earshot. It’s even bigger than the ones I remember seeing at the old ruined fortress south of Edon, and that one was too big for me to fight unaided. I hope I can get someone who looks to Ranger Hall to mount it too, for posterity. Though the Aer’thian is not going to be amused that there is a snake running around impersonating his tail.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Eleventh: Of Cousins and Contests:
Years later

I am finally finished with hunting duty for Chir’lal. My tail rejoices. On the other claw, Mother has dragooned me for one of her projects. Since I’m a fully trained mage, and most other mages in the clan, my father included, tend to focus only on spells in their elements, she can have me cast the all the spells she needs for her project. Otherwise, she’d need to trade services to two mages, or find an Illusionist to work with Father. I am not sure exactly what my spells are doing with her enchantments to the armors, but I am guessing the end result is elemental resistances. That would be useful gear for magic users, in case of fumbling spells. Or for a master whose apprentice’s aim is suspect at best. I’d be tempted to try to earn a piece, but Armagg would make it disappear. Ah, well.

Some time later

It seems I have an unmatched talent for attracting trouble. Two days ago, I was out looking for a snack when I ran into two of my cousins. They are not too much older than I am, though they are mature now. We used to get into all kinds of mischief when we were hatchlings. But that was a long time ago.

Sehfio’giskar came striding boldly along the path, with Darj’teord a pale shadow scouting under the trees. Which I figure is their usual stalking tactics, given Sehfio is apprenticed to Fighter Hall and Darj to Ranger Hall. And still apprenticed, as I found out later. I think the fact that I am no longer an apprentice was part of what started the whole mess, but I think something like this was inevitable.

They were both surprised to see me. I think at first they were surprised to see a female that they did not recognize, but after a bit of dancing around it was established that yes I was that cousin and yes I had been away but am now back and no I did not need masculine assistance in finding a meal. It was also established that they had been off training in the uplands with their respective masters for some time, and so had not heard of any recent happenings in the clan. Not that there ever are many major happenings, beyond new hatchlings and the occasional ruckus that the Guardians have to sit on.

The conversation wound around a bit, finally getting to the subject of the trophy collection in Ranger Hall via what we all had been up to recently, hyper hatchlings and large gold snakes. I inquired if there was a new example of the deinonychosaur in the Hall. Darj informed me that there was and that Skir’tarn himself had slain it. I pointed out that if it was the beast I thought it was, it would be the one I had killed, because the one Grandfather slew was in too many pieces to make a good trophy. Sehfio rebutted with the observation that a mage of my age could not kill something as big as the deinonychosaur trophy. I invited them to go ask Ruhk’kuhn, since he had preserved the corpse, about the identity of the clan member who had felled it. They decided that would be too much like work and that a simpler way to decide if I was speaking truthfully or not would be a repeat performance of the feat. I was annoyed enough to do something stupid at that point, and I did.

We flew for a while, to a piece of jungle that was a good distance from anything else. Darj let slip that he thought there was a largish clutch of deinonychosaurs in this section of jungle and Sehfio offered to stand as my second if I bit off more than I could chew. I shouldn’t have. I knew it was a bad idea. And I went right ahead and did it anyway.

Darj scouted around and soon detected a likely target. He didn’t see exactly how big it was, but, in his opinion, it should be about the right size. I got ready to fight. Put up my protection spells and created mirror images. The boys eyed that. I told them they were the ones that wanted to see how I fought, and to stop fussing about my methods. They argued that I couldn’t fight by hiding. I was getting ready to be very grumpy when the animal came leaping out of the branches at us.

I swore. My cousins backed off. It wasn’t as big as the one I had fought earlier. It was much, much bigger. I should have run.

'Feel the firesss, feel the flamesss, feel the burning in your brain!.'

It stopped chasing my cousins and decided I was the more immediate threat. The dinosaur was nearly my size and as nasty as they come. I cast dehydrates and power word kills for variety while it destroyed image after image. It got rather beat up. I was down to my last two images. Then it found me. Then things get a little fuzzy, because it slammed into me so brutally that I was instantly stunned.

[Pyra]

Chapter the Twelfth: The Aftermath of Stupidity

When I could move again, I opened my eyes. The dinosaur was quite dead. Sehfio was looking a bit alarmed, clutching his bloodied bludgeons tightly. He had some pretty good gashes on his shoulder, but didn’t look harmed otherwise. Then, I assessed the damage I had sustained, being a shredded wing, various cuts, missing scales, with nothing broken, and exhaustion. Basically, the shape I’m usually in after picking a fight with something that can fight back. Looking around again, I realized that Darj wasn’t in sight. I eyed Sehfio inquiringly. He shrugged taciturnly. I sat down.

We were having a debate on whether I had successfully answered their challenge by almost defeating an opponent that was about twice the size of the one I had ‘claimed’ to have killed, had failed because I hadn’t killed it, or if Sehfio and Darj had faulted and so lost honor by setting up a situation where I could have been killed, when Darj climbed up out of the trees. He didn’t look happy.

The upshot was that Ishtar had rolled the celestial dice and decreed we were cloaked in midair. Darj had seen that the attacking deinonychosaur was not the one he had seen earlier. Figuring that between his brother and I, we could handle the first one, he went looking for the other one, before it could enter the fray. He didn’t find it. He found a nesting ground. A fairly well established one. It doesn’t happen too often in the Lowlands, but the Guardians can’t catch everything. All it takes is one male and female to slip through. The sudden drop in prey is an indicator that there’s a problem in the area. But we had flown here directly, and missed that important warning. The grounds were literally a few hundreds of lengths from where we sat, just on the ground level, and I was too exhausted to move any distance. At which point the penultimate element of the disaster moved into place. To whit, Grandfather Skir’Tarn about tripped over us. And apparently he had just found the hatching grounds.

<Shell-brains! Thou dost possess less wit than the rocks thee feedest upon! Hast thee not seen the danger here? Fly home!>

Darj and Sehfio looked at me, then looked back at Grandfather. Darj said simply, <We can’t.>

He looked about ready to verbally flay us, so Sehfio explained, <It was our challenge, and she can’t, so we can’t leave.> I stretched out my mangled wing for illustration, at which point Grandfather put together our presences here with the carcass and the why.

<Idiot children! Thee know better.> He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes briefly. <Pir’rahl, set up a shelter and keep one up until I can clear out this infestation. And you two! Stay here and stand guard.>

It was a sound course of action, excepting that the last component of the debacle was already in motion. I have a suspicion that over the millennia, the local predators are becoming smarter. Whether that is because we have been methodically killing off all of the stupid ones or not, the results were the same. A pack of deinonychosaurs, having grouped together in contradiction to their previous known behavior, chose that particular moment to attack as one. I tried to run, but stumbled halfway across the clearing and went down bleeding from reopened gashes. My cousins were hit hard from multiple directions and were forced to flee. There were too many attacking Grandfather for him to have been able to protect me on the ground, so he took the only course of action left to him. He picked me up and threw me. I know this was so I would land clear of the battle and far enough away to have time to put of a force field for protection. For any other member of the clan, it would have worked, but my impact with the ground finished what my earlier battle had started. The familiar blackness pulled me away.

[Pyra]

Intermission

The watcher ruminated, fretting. Through the ages of her Clan’s existence, Outsiders had come, and some departed, but only she herself, the Elders, and one other could say where Here was in relation to the rest of Sosel. All who stayed became Clan, Outsiders no longer. Even though there were excursions outside Clan lands at times, the comings and goings were all accomplished through telemancy, never afoot, save once. Now, after so many ages the world Outside had moved on, taking on an aspect alien to anything previously known.

The was known because one who was Clan had become something uncanny. The watcher knew, more than the changeling child could understand, the dangers Outside had and could pose to them. She remembered the killing times, when elders of her own race ran mad with fear, seeking to destroy all those who were ‘tainted’. She remembered seeing her own mate slain and being unable to render aid. She remembered, she who had fled into and past the wasted lands with the last of her kin, her children’s children and their future mates, the surviving hatchlings of her cousins. She remembered because of her four children, of whom three had been slain, and the fourth vanished with his mate’s people past any recall or contact.

Now, her tentative picture of this new Age had become clouded with this new development. The watcher had mind-linked the changed child to see her thoughts while she questioned her. The results were worrisome. Not only had the child shown heart-ties to this disparate conglomeration of “Gifted Ones” equal to her clan ties, but the child knew how to find the Clan lands afoot from Edon City. And though she would cause no harm to her own blood kin, others who had been so changed would not have such compunctions. And they had strange abilities, these changed ones. That had been very clear from her thoughts and memories. The watcher could see no clear solution to this toothy problem of how to protect her children from this peril, the problem which had become even more baffling this day.

The son of her heart had come straight to her, after it had happened. The odd child had become involved with one of the status trials that the youngling and mature children often challenged each other with, so that when they were adults, who held higher status in the clan would be established. But this time, the youngsters had gone against the prohibition to avoid hatching grounds of predators here in the Lowlands. Indeed, by custom they should have found the nearest Guardian to alert them to the danger, but instead they had sought a battle and found one that would have been beyond their power to win. Would have been for most children their age, except the changeling child used tactics no scion of the Clan would have used to survive the fight.

These roots of the situation had been found by him from questioning the instigators after the fact. He told the watcher what occurred next more in thought that in words. He knew she could see what he was thinking and remembering, oftentimes more clearly than he could. She saw how there had been a sudden rush of predators, how the apprentices had been driven away, and that the odd child, injured already, was unable to escape. She saw also how her adopted son had picked the youngling up and thrown her clear of the immediate danger. After the pack had been massacred, the watcher felt the shock and horror of his discovering her, broken and unconscious where she had landed. He had carried the youngling with greater haste than any other could have to his mate, who had studied on Welstar at the Biomantic College ages ago.

Her adopted son was agonizing over having caused such harm to his own daughter’s daughter, but how could he have know incredibly fragile the odd youngling was? The strange child had no overt showing of this weakness, and though she was undersized, that could be attributed to late growth.

This changed much of the pattern that the watcher had been discerning. She had been seeing grave peril in these peculiar abilities Gifted Ones possessed, but if all of these beings were so weakened by the powers the Wizards had granted them, how could they be a threat to her Clan, even with such unusual abilities? If such relatively minor hurts could near kill a Dragon, what of the other changed ones from the lesser races? Perhaps there was no true threat, but, while the watcher lacked more information, she would watch and wait to see what would next occur.

Meanwhile, there was still the need to prevent a reoccurrence of the days events. The odd child was still Clan. She could not overtly forbid her from taking part in such challenges, not and be obeyed, as such rites of passage were firmly engrained, regardless of circumstances. But, oftentimes, the oblique approach was much more effective. An idea occurred to the watcher that would both keep the changeling child out of such contests, and at the same time give the youngest druid apprentice a chance to test a theory. If that experiment was successful the whole clan would benefit. Her adopted son departed to set the plan in motion, eased in heart. She was a very good listener.