Sins of the Father: Chapter Twenty-Six (Patreon)

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Chapter Twenty-Six

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Valar flew through the night, cradling the wounded gryphon to his chest. Each wingbeat was its own arduous battle. Every muscle in his body screamed for rest. His limbs burned where the gryphon has gashed them. The steady, stabbing pain in his scarred wing joint threatened to make flight an even greater challenge in the future. Blood dribbled down his scales, dripped from his paws. Some of it was his. Most of it was the gryphon’s. Valar dared not look at his passenger for fear of just how blood-soaked his makeshift bandages were. He worried if he so much as glanced down, it would be just in time to witness the bird’s last breath.

The smaller creature hung limp in his grasp. If not for an occasional tremble, or a soft whimper, Valar might have thought the gryphon already dead. It mattered not, now. Valar would carry him home no matter what. If the gryphon died, then Valar would build the damn fool bird a pyre. After all, it was his fault the bird was dying. The gryphon’s thievery and unscrupulous friends might have led to their clash, but it was Valar who chased him to his home. Valar who lost control, and nearly tore him apart. And it was Valar who would save him, or bury him.

He had promised not to let the gryphon die alone, and that was a promise he would keep.

At last, Valar’s destination lay in sight. The clouds had cleared, and Forests of Ghosts rose and fell ahead of him, green waves painted in pale moonlight. A few craggy peaks protruded from the canopy, evidence of the rocky hills otherwise smothered in ancient growth. Valar stretched his wings, gliding towards one such peak. A hole in the canopy led towards a hidden cave system, visible only at certain angles and only from above.

Valar descended towards the opening in the treetops, clenching his jaws. Normally, he’d alight atop the stony hill, and climb down, as the cavern was around a sharp turn from the entrance through the trees. Yet Valar knew there was was no way he could so while carrying the gryphon. Valar needed both forelegs to carry the bird, and his hind legs alone would not safely support the two of them down a steep, rocky trail. Hell, injured as his was, Valar doubted he could manage more than a few steps on his back legs even on level ground. Instead, he’d have to shoot through the opening and bank into the cavern’s entrance the way his siblings did, when their mother wasn’t around to yell at them for being reckless. Assuming Valar made it, he’d have to hope for room to brake with his wings before he crashed into a wall.

Jagged rocks and tree boughs rushed up to meet him all too fast. Valar dipped and angled his wings, banking back and forth, struggling to stay on course. His scarred wing was stiff and immobile, resisting his efforts. Though his childhood injuries had not kept him from flight, they did ensure he’d never be as agile in the sky as other dragons. Carrying a gryphon was already at the very limits of his capabilities. The precision maneuvers required to safely navigate narrow entrances and tight turns whilst on the wing was simply beyond him. Just as he reached the opening in the canopy, Valar drifted to far to the side. All he could do was hold the gryphon tightly to try and keep him safe.

Valar crashed through the tree tops, sheering limbs. Pain ripped through his outstretched wings. Valar forced himself to keep his wings open even as broken, serrated boughs clawed through his sensitive membranes. As soon as he was through the forest of it, he dipped his wing, wheeling around. Rough, rocky walls scrapped his wing tip, leaving him inches from true disaster. The cavern entranced yawned before him, but it took every ounce of strength Valar had left just to force his scarred wing joint to comply. Finally, he forced it down far enough to bank hard, and turn towards the cave.

In a blink, Valar was inside it, and the back wall was hurtling towards him. He flared his wing, bleeding off speed, but had only seconds to spare. Realizing he wasn’t going to make it, Valar extended his hind paws, pulling his wings back in. Only one of them fully complied. The sudden imbalance tipped Valar over, and he crashed to the stony floor, skidding across it. He cried out in renewed pain, straining to keep his wings out from under himself, lest he tear or shatter something that could never fully heal. All the while, he kept himself wrapped around the gryphon, desperately trying to protect the battered bird from further injury. Valar slammed up against the cave’s back wall, the impact jarring the air from his lungs with an agonizing rough.

For a few moments, Valar lingered there, gasping for breath. Everything hurt. Motes of light whirled in his vision. His lungs ached, impatient for air he could not seem to provide. Valar gasped and wheezed, telling himself to remain calm. Panic wasn’t going to help. And he surely did not wish to panic his family. As soon as he’d caught his breath, he’d calmly, gently wake his mother, and ask for her help.

Then his younger sister emerged from one of the adjoining tunnels. In the darkness of the cavern, her blue scales looked gray, her black paws darker still. Horror crossed her face when she saw her brother lying in a crumpled heap, covered in blood. Her silvery eyes went wide, her muzzle dropped open. And before Valar had breath enough in his lungs to stop her, his sister screamed.

“Mother!” His sister’s voice echoed down the stony halls and into every chamber of the cavern system. “Mother! Valar’s hurt!”

Only a heartbeat later, Valar’s mother stormed out of another tunnel. In the gloom, her cerulean and indigo scales were nearly midnight blue and black. Fear etched itself upon her face, her frills flat and ears pinned. “Valar!” She hurried towards him, glancing back at his sister. “Get the healer’s supplies! Now!”

Valar finally managed to draw a deeper breath as his sister Kylyra scurried off to do as their mother asked. He wheezed a few words. “I’m alright, Mother.” Valar knew that was a lie, but his wounds did not threaten his life. He slowly uncurled from around the gryphon, hoping the bird still drew breath. “He’s the one who needs help.”  

“Oh, Valar…” Mother’s breath caught in her throat. “What have you brought here?”

“It’s a gryphon…” Valar forced himself up to his paws. Every muscle, every bone protested, but Valar knew his pain was not important. Pain, he reminded himself, was but an obstacle. “I…” He stared down at the smaller creature. There was more red on him now than black. Yet, somehow, though consciousness had long fled him, the gryphon still drew breath. “I tried to catch him, for the Ward, but…” His throat tightened, cutting off his words.

A snarl rose in his mother’s throat. “Valar, I expressly forbid you from…” Yet her anger died as quickly as it arose. She sighed, her cerulean wings sagging at her sides. “It doesn’t matter. How badly hurt are you?”

Valar shook his head. “I’m fine, Mother. He’s the one-”

“Valar, you’re covered in blood!” Fear flooded his mother’s voice. She grasped one of his forelegs, gently examining it. “Kyly! Hurry with the damn supplies! Your brother is-”

“Mother!” Valar jerked his limb away, snapping his jaws. “I’m fine! But he’s…” His gaze fell to the gryphon. The wounded creature looked smaller than ever, now. He clutched at the bandage the way a hatchling a might cling to a comforting sleeping fur. Valar whimpered, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s dying, Mother. P-please, help him! I didn’t mean to.” He sniffled, shaking his head, struggling to hold back a sob. “I didn’t mean to hurt him so badly. I-I only wanted to help!”

Kylaryn’s eyes softened, her ears drooped a little. “Valar, my poor love.” She stretched her neck and gave Valar’s muzzle a single, loving lick. “Helping one, all too often means harming another. I know you think I wouldn’t let you fight simply because I feared for your safety. But I feared for your heart, too. Taking lives, even those of your enemies? It takes a toll upon your heart, that I do not wish for you to pay.”

Valar’s jaw trembled, his aching wings shook at his sides. He sniffed again, swallowing down another sob. “P-please, mother…” He stared down at the gryphon, still somehow clinging to life. “I promised we’d try to save him, if he held on. And he did!”

Mother licked his muzzle once more, then turned her attention to the gryphon. She carefully rolled him towards his back, then eased away the blood-soaked bandages. Beneath them, salve and blood coated the edges of his open wound. His heart still beat within, though the pulse was fainter, and slower now. Fresh blood spilled free with the bandage removed. Kylaryn gasped, pulling her head back. She glanced from the gryphon to her son, then back to the wounded creature.

“Oh, my dearest…” Kylaryn put the bandage back in place, then hesitantly reached for the gryphon’s head, stroking his bloodied feathers. “I don’t think there’s anything to be done now but comfort him till it’s over.”

“No…” A sob finally broke through, and Valar began to cry. “We have to try! There was so much bitterness, in him. So much anger. For…” Valar looked away, whimpering. “For his father, I think.” His frills sagged.

Kylaryn’s ears drooped. Memories of Valar’s father drifted across her eyes. She sighed, her head low. “Valar, I-”

“He was ready to die, Mother!” Valar forced himself to meet his mother’s gaze. “He was terrified, but somehow willing to just let go. As if all he wanted was for the anger, and the loneliness to end. So, I promised him…” Valar set his paw across the gryphon’s, squeezing it. “That if he lived, things would get better. But he had to fight for his life, he had to hang on long enough for us to try and save him. And he did!” He sucked in a shaking breath, fighting to speak through his tears. “He made it all the way here! If he dies because we cannot save him, I can accept that! But I cannot accept not trying. I promised him, mother. We have to try.” 

Kylaryn stared at her son for a long, uncertain moment. “So be it, Valar.” A familiar fire ignited in her eyes. Steel resolved hardened her voice. “Kyly!” She lifted her head, glancing to the tunnels. “We need those supplies now!”

The younger female dragon soon emerged, carrying a heavy basket’s padded handle in her jaws. She hurried over to her mother’s side, then set the basket down. “I was coming as fast as I could! I couldn’t fit everything in here, so…” She trailed off when she saw the gryphon. “What the hell is that thing, and what did you do it?”

“It’s a gryphon.” Kylaryn swiftly pulled rolls of gauzy bandages out of the basket. “Your brother brought him here, that we might try and save him.” She passed a roll of bandages to Valar, her voice sharpened with fresh urgency. “Put this on the bird, and hold pressure on it.”

“Yes, Mother.” Valar quickly unrolled the fresh bandage, then used it to replace the bloodied ones. He pressed his forepaws against the gryphon’s chest, pushing against the wound. “What next?” 

“We try to stop the bleeding while there’s still blood for him to lose.” Mother retrieved pots and jars from the basket, along with bottles of spirits. A scowl twisted her muzzle. “Where’s the test of it, Kyly? Where are the stones?”

“Father’s bringing them.” Kyly padded around the bloodied gryphon, her eyes wide. “Is that the creature that hurt you, Valar? Why are you-”

“They fought, Kyly.” Kylaryn glanced at her daughter, her frills back. “Your brother won. Leave it at that, for now.” Then she looked towards the connected tunnels again. “Voskalar! Time is short!”

“I’m coming!” A deeper voice echoed back. Worry filled it. “How badly hurt is he?”

“Badly!” Kylaryn opened up several pots filled with various dried herbs. Their bitter scent scarcely pierced through the coppery tang of blood. “But he’s brought us someone in far more dire need of help. I require those stones immediately!” Kylaryn added an assortment of medicinal leaves and seeds to a large stone mortar. Then she passed it to across the gryphon to her daughter. “Here.” Mother passed over an immense granite pestle, as well. “Make yourself useful. Grind those as finely as you can.”

“Yes, Mother.” Kyly sat on her haunches alongside Valar. She rested the mortar on the ground, and set about grinding the herbs. After a few moments of silence, she stretched her neck to gently nuzzle Valar. “Are you alright?”

For the first time, Valar let the truth slip free. “No.” His voice was a broken whisper. “No, I’m not.”

Kyly opened her wing, stretching it out across her brother’s back. “Sit down, Valar. Your legs are shaking. And take a deep breath.”

Kylaryn shot him a pointed look. “Do as your sister says.”

Valar eased back, checking the bandage beneath his paws. Already, blood was soaking through them, but far less quickly than before. Valar just hoped that meant his earlier salve had worked, and not that the gryphon had bled out during the flight. But at least for now, the gryphon was still breathing. Valar forced himself to do the same, taking a slow, deep breath. His lungs burned, as if the overwhelming exertion of his nearly-impossible flight was only now catching up to him.

“Whatever happens…” Kyly gently licked his ear. “You did your best, for him.”

Valar managed a smile, his throat too constricted to allow words. He turned his head to give his sister’s nose a grateful lick in return.

“You’re hurt too, you know.” Kyly looked him over, her frills flat and ears pinned. “Everywhere, from the looks of it. You should-”

Valar shook his head, struggling just to speak. “Not now, Kyly.”

His sister nodded once. “As you wish.” She lifted the mortar to show their mother. “How’s this?”

“Good.” Kylaryn took it from her, emptied it into a bowl, and then refilled it with another batch of herbs. “Now grind these, as well.” She handed the mortar back, glancing at Valar. “And we will tend your brother’s wounds next.”

Valar shifted his weight, his forelegs aching from holding pressure. “I’m not the one who’s dying, mother.”

“Which is the only reason we’re treating the gryphon, first.” She passed over a fresh bandage. “Swap them out again.”

Valar did so, discarding the bloodied gauze. He flattened his ears, dismayed but unsurprised his mother already knew exactly which gryphon he’d been fighting with. “You were right.” He pressed the fresh bandages against the gryphon’s chest. “I shouldn’t have gone after him by myself.”

Mother only grunted. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Valar. For now, we focus on saving his life.” She glanced over her wings, a snarl in her voice. “Vos! We have minutes, not hours! Bring the gods-damned stones, leave everything else!”

“Coming!” A moments passed before Valar’s surrogate father emerged from the same adjoining tunnel Kylaryn had. He bound towards them, a large carrier basket held within his jaws. In the dim light of lamps and glow stones, his bronze scales looked oddly pale. Voskalar skidded to a stop alongside Valar’s mother, then set the basket down. Fear filled every word. “Valar! What happened? Where are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Valar kept his paws pressed to the bandage, even as fresh blood stained it. “Help us save him.”

Voskalar looked from Valar to the gryphon and back again. Determination settled across his face, his ears back. “What do you need me to do?”

Kylaryn was already removing things from the basket. She passed him a few thick, red cloths. “Lay these out, then go and fetch me as much silver water as this will carry.” She gave Voskalar a large, sealed but empty jar. “And send our son to take over for Valar.”

Voskalar nodded, spreading out one of the padded cloths across the ground. He folded it over once, and then set its twin next to it. “How’s this?”

“That’s fine.” Kylaryn stretched her neck to give Voskalar’s muzzle a lick, then pointed a wing tip towards the tunnels. “Now go. Faster this time, please.”

As Voskalar hurried to carry out her instructions, Kylaryn removed a rectangular wooden box from the carrier basket. Images of rolling hills and stone spires were emblazoned across it. She flicked the latches open, and eased up the top. Inside were dozens of pale blue stones. Kylaryn plucked out a single, cerulean orb, staring at it. Silvery mist swirled within it, an angry ghost demanding release.

“Amaleen always used lower quality stones, but these will have to do.” Kylaryn glanced at Valar. “I need you to stay on that side of the gryphon. I don’t want to risk your blood touching these.”

“I understand.” He glanced at his paws, watching as blood slowly seeped through the bandages. “What do you need me to do next?”  

“I’m going to need some of your blood.” Kylaryn set the stone down on the red cloth. “You might not be of an elder Aran’alian bloodline, but you were raised on the silver rains. You drank more of it for longer than your siblings, and your blood likely has the highest concentration of all of us.” She narrowed her eyes. “Plus, you’re already bleeding.”

Valar grimaced, his spined tail tip flicking. Yet he offered no protest. “Where do you want it?”

Mother passed Kyly a wooden bowl. “Hand this to your brother. I don’t want to risk too much of his blood on my paws while I handle these.”

Kylaryn removed another ghost stone from the box, and set it next to the first. She folded the second cloth over the top of the two stones. Then she took an iron-headed hammer used for breaking rocks out of the basket. She thumped it against the ghost stones several times. Their shattering cracks were muffled by the enclosing cloth. Kylaryn thumped the hammer against the remaining chunks until both stones were little more than crumbled pebbles. Finally, she set the hammer down, and removed the top cloth. Wispy motes of silver floated up into the air in tiny, swirling clouds. She dumped the remaining dust and broken rock into another mortar. Then she took a dragon sized pestle into her paws, and began to grind everything down.

“What’s happening?” A new voice called across the room as another dragon finally entered the chamber. The other dragon was still young, and significantly smaller than Valar. In the pale light, his bronze scales held an orange sheen, his blue paws looked half-gray. He gaped at Valar, his maw hanging open, tail tip twitching. Valar could almost see himself reflected in the young dragon’s eyes, covered blood and open gashes. “Valar’s bleeding!”

His youngest sibling’s impressive ability to point out the obvious brought a brief smile to Valar’s muzzle. “Come here, Skyr. We need your help.”

Kylaryn beckoned Voskyr forward. “Your brother was in a fight, tonight. And he brought home a life in need of saving. Do you see what Valar’s doing?”

Voskyr padded forward, his eyes wide. He nodded. “Did they hurt each other?”

“Yes.” Kylaryn checked her progress, then continued to grind up the stones. “We’ll talk about all that tomorrow. For now, we’re focused on saving this gryphon’s life. Take Valar’s place. Hold pressure on that wound.”

Voskyr padded around the gryphon until he was at Valar’s side. Valar stood and moved over to make room for him. Voskyr put his front paws on the gryphon’s chest, pressing down on the bloodied bandage. “How’s this?”

“That’s fine, love. Just keep holding pressure.” Kylaryn glanced at Valar. “Fill that bowl at least half full of blood.”

Valar nodded, but his attention was focused on the still-bleeding gryphon. Side by side, even his younger brother was scarcely any larger than the bird was. Valar whimpered. The gryphon was still so young, with so much life ahead of him. He looked so small, so fragile now. Valar could scarcely believe the gryphon had ever been capable of inflicting such wounds upon the dragon. How could Valar have gone so far? He could still feel the sickening sensation of his claws punching through bone. Hear the gryphon’s gagging cry, his frightened sobs. His pleas to his mother, asking her not to save him, but simply to believe he was happy

Valar whined, stroking the unconscious gryphon’s ears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kylaryn snapped her jaws for his attention. “Valar! I know you’re hurting right now. I know your body screams for rest, and your soul aches with guilt. But until the bird dead, or awake to hear your apologies, I need you to focus. Alright?”

Valar blinked a few times, forcing himself to return his attention to his mother. “You said halfway full?” He moved the wooden bowl closer to himself, then looked his forelegs over for a suitable wound. None of them were bleeding as intensely as they once were. Valar unsheathed a single claw, and used it to reopen one of his gashes. The pain made him hiss, but blood dribbled freely once more. He held his arm over the bowl. “What do I do with it when I have enough?”

“Pour about half of it into the herbs your sister is grinding.” Mother pointed towards Kyly’s bowl. “Kyly, mix them together until you’ve made a paste.”

Kyly scrunched her muzzle. “Who thought of all this?”

“The healers of Aran’alia,” Kylaryn said, chuckling to herself. “Don’t ask me how.”

Voskalar bound back into the front cavern, carrying the jar in his jaws. He skidded to a halt, and set the jar down. Then he used his claw tips to pry off the top. The jar bobbled, and several silver droplets sloshed over and ran down the sides. “Is this enough? Or should I fill another?”

“I think that will do.” Kylaryn picked it up, and poured some of it into the stone dust. “If our first poultice isn’t enough, I doubt he’ll live long enough for us to try a second.” She set the jar down, then stirred the water and powdered stone together. “Give the rest of it to Valar.”

“Right.” Voskalar carried the jar around to Valar, setting it near him. He looked Valar over, concern etched across his muzzle and splayed ears. “I really wish I could hug you right now, Valar. Know that I’m embracing you tightly in spirit, at least.”

Valar managed to offer his step-father a smile. “Thank you. You can hug me when we’re finished saving the gryphon’s life.”

“And when the ghost stones are safely put away.” Kylaryn’s gaze drifted from her mate, to her son. Love and worry shimmered in her eyes. Her ears drooped. “Valar, are you sure you’re-”

“I’m fine, mother.” Valar struggled to keep a smile on his muzzle. He was all too aware that he was anything but fine, but right now his mother needed his strength and support just as much as he needed hers. “I promise you, I’ll be alright. But it’s like you said. Right now…” He canted his head, gazing down at the gryphon. “We have to focus on him.”

“That we do.” She pointed to Valar’s bowl. “That’s enough. Poor it into Kyly’s herbs.”

Valar did as he was asked, draining a portion of the collected blood into the ground herbs. “I’m guessing I mix the rest with the silver water?”

“Correct.” Kylaryn nodded once. “Kyly, stir that together, then pass it to me.”

Kyly quickly mixed the blood into the herbs, forming an unpleasant paste. As she worked, she hugged Valar with her outstretched wing, nuzzling his neck again. “I’ve already got his blood on me, so I may as well hug him for everyone.”

Valar chuckled, return her attention. “Thank you.” Then he poured the rest of the fresh blood into the silver water, stirring it around with a finger. “What do you want done with this?”

“Pass it to Voskalar.” Kylaryn held her forepaws out, and Kyly passed her the herbal mixture. She added some of it to the ghost stone dust and water conglomerate, then stirred it all together. “The water enhances the healing and coagulating properties, and also helps to keep everything stable.”

Valar passed jar back to Voskalar. At Kylaryn’s instruction, he poured some of it into the mix she was stirring. She worked it all together until she had a thin, reddish-gray paste. She inspected it, then added more of the herbal paste and stirred it again. As she worked, Voskalar spread out a fresh bandage upon the ground to await the application of the medicine.

“I don’t think the consistency is quite right, but it will have to do.” Kylaryn spread the poultice across the bandages. “And we used stronger ghost stones than she ever did, but…” She grimaced, her jaws set. “Too little would not have staunched the flow of blood. If it shocks his system, at least we tried.” She added more of it to the bandage, glancing around. “We’re going to need to work together on this. Vos, when Skyr removes the old bandage, press the fresh one against his wound. Make sure the poultice is flush with it. Then I will hold the bird up by his forelegs. Valar, Kyly, you two need to wrap the rest of the bandages as tightly around him as you can. I don’t care if you have to smash his wings in the process. We have to try and hold him together somehow. Afterwards, Voskalar and Kyly will have a new task, but we’ll discuss that in a moment. Is everyone clear?”

Valar nodded, rising to all fours. His limbs wobbled, but he took a deep breath, and steadied himself. Kyly hugged him with her wing once more before she retracted it, and rose up alongside him. The others all readied themselves for the next step. Kylaryn tossed a few rolls of fresh bandages across the gryphon. They landed at Valar’s feet. He picked one up, and gestured with at his sister with it.

“Why don’t you go to the other side of him?” He waved the bandage at the gryphon’s wings. “If you slip under mother and hold his wings in position against his back, I can probably wrap these around him. Although, I may need your help, Skyr. Okay?”

The smallest dragon nodded, still pressing the old bandage against the gryphon’s bleeding wound. “Ready when you are.”

Everyone took up positions around the gryphon. Kylaryn gave the signal, and Voskyr removed the bloodied dressing. Fresh blood ran from the open wound almost immediately, but Voskalar was quick in covering it with the poultice. The sticky paste kept it affixed to the gryphons chest as Kylaryn grasped his forelegs, and pulled up him upright. Once the bird was nearly vertical, Kyly moved in beneath her mother to gather up the gryphon’s limp wings. She pressed them against his back, doing her best to let them fold naturally. Then Valar unrolled one of the long bandages, and worked it around the gryphon. There was little room to work, but Voskyr grasped the end of it, and helped pass it around the unconscious creature. Valar pulled it tight, tucking the end beneath the rest of it. Then he and Voskyr did the same with a second binding, pulling it as tight as he could. In the end, the gryphon’s wings were pressed firmly to his body, his rent chest held together beneath layers of dressings. When it was finished, Kylaryn laid the gryphon back down.

“There.” Kylaryn stroked the gryphon’s head. His ears twitched. “We’ve done all we can for him, Valar. Which way the winds will carry him now, I cannot say. It is up to the gryphon, and the strength of his heart.”

“I understand.” Valar sat down alongside the gryphon’s head, gently stroking his feathers. “Thank you for trying, Mother.” He glanced around at the others. “Everyone.”

“Of course.” Kylaryn took a slow breath, her tail twitching. “It was the right thing to do, despite my protests. But now that it is finished, you are my concern.” Kylaryn closed and secured the box filled with ghost stones, then set it back into the carrier basket and pushed it aside. “Come here, Valar.”

Valar padded towards his mother on shaking limbs. He half expected her to yell at him, to scream and roar about his disobedience. To remind him she’d not wanted him fighting for the Ward in the first place. Valar steeled himself for her anger, readied his internal walls to withstand the crushing tides of her rage. He prepared himself to accept whatever punishment she meted out, knowing he had earned her ire, and any sentence she saw fit to pronounce. Valar stood before his mother, his head held high, ready to face her fury.

But there was no fury. There was no lecture, no discipline. Whatever anger Valar’s actions might have stirred was long since washed away in a flood of motherly love, and terror. Kylaryn snatched him in her forelegs, hugging him against her chest. “Oh, my poor son! My poor, precious child!” Mother squeezed him tight, enclosing him within her deep blue wings as if hoping her embrace alone would heal him, body and soul. “I’m so sorry, Valar! I should have been there with you, to help you. To protect you!” Kylaryn’s body shook against him. Her wings trembled. Her voice cracked. “My poor son! I’m so sorry…”

Valar pressed his head to his mother’s chest. Was she…crying? Valar could count the number of times he’d seen his mother cry on one paw. She was, in every way, the strongest dragon he knew. Her heart and soul were as steely and unbreakable as her war-forged body. Valar had seen Kylaryn cry after Amaleen died, after his father abandoned them, and after Aran’alia fell. And now, she cried for him, for reasons he did not even fully understand.

“It’s alright, mother.” Valar wrapped his bloodied forelegs as far around her as he could, hugging her back. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

For some reason, that only made her cry harder. As she cradled her son in her wings and sobbed, Valar’s whole family joined them. His brother and sister hugged them from either side, while Voskalar wrapped his wings around the entire group. For several long moments, they remained that way, simply holding one another, sharing love and comfort while the greatest dragon Valar ever knew poured her heart out for her wounded son.

Only when Kylaryn’s tears had ended, did Valar’s family part from her. Even as everyone eased back, Valar his forepaw across hers. He smiled up at her. “Everything will be alright, mother.”

“Thank you, Valar.” She glanced around at the others, sniffling. “Thank you all.” She swallowed hard, fixing her gaze on Voskalar. “I’m going to need you and Kyly to go and fetch Melira, for us. Have her round up her people’s best healer, and bring them both back here with all the supplies you two can carry. I want them to attend Valar. He’s more wounds than I can count, and they’ll need to be stitched with hands far more delicate than mine if we hope for them to heal cleanly.”

Valar flattened his ears and looked away, but did not protest. He waved a paw towards the gryphon. “If you’re bringing the humans here, I want them to tend him, too.”

“After they’ve dealt with you.” Kylaryn sharpened her voice, brooking no argument. “If your bird survives that long, then he can wait a little longer while your injuries are cleaned and stitched up.” She glanced at Voskalar again. “As soon as you’re ready, please.”

“I’m ready now. Well…almost.” Voskalar seized Valar in his forelegs, hugging him tightly. “You really gave us a scare, Valar. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Vos.” Valar returned his hug, thankful for his step-father’s concern. “But thank you. Now go get the healers.”

Voskalar chuckled, rubbing Valar’s scales with a forepaw. “You sound like your mother.” He hugged him a moment longer, then let him go. “Alright. Now I’m ready. Kyly, you up for a long flight?”

“Of course.” Kylyra slipped forward to hug her brother as well. “You may think you’ve fooled us, Valar. But we know better. You’re not fine. And it’s okay to admit that to yourself, you know.”

“I know.” Valar hugged his sister with his wings, nuzzling her neck. “But I appreciate it, just the same. You should go.”

“Very well.” Kyly released him, stepping back. “But upon our return, we all get to fuss over you until you’re completely healed. Right, mother?”

Kylaryn nodded. “Right. Now, be on your way. Fly swiftly as you can. And tell them to prepare for an extended stay. If Valar’s bird lives, he’s going to need serious medical attention for some time.”

“We’re going.” Voskalar hurried towards the exit, casting a last glance back. “We’ll return as soon as we can.”

“See you soon, brother.” Kyly flashed him a smile, before she followed Voskalar through the exit, and onto the rocky tail through the forest beyond.

Valar curled his tail around his paws, glancing up at Kylaryn when the others were gone. “He’s not my bird, mother.” Valar curled his tail around his paws, splaying out his frills.

“If he lives, he will be.” Kylaryn stared down at him until Valar felt as if her eyes were boring into his very soul. “With a wound like that, there will be little he can do on his own until it’s healed. You’ll need to tend him as you would a hatchling. Help him bathe, support him on his way to the latrine, and so on. Do you understand that, Valar?”

Valar lifted his spines, his ears up. “Of course.” He had not considered how much direct support the gryphon might need in his recover, but neither would he shy away from it. “I’ll do whatever it takes, as long as he survives.” Valar swallowed as an uncomfortable silence settled over the cavern. He glanced between the gryphon and his mother. “You…you don’t think he’s going to make it, do you?”

“No, Valar.” Kylaryn slowly shook her head. “He may yet see the dawn, but…” She sighed, stroking Valar’s paw. “I don’t think he’ll make it through the day.”

Valar whimpered, looking down at the bandaged gryphon. Blood still caked his fur and feathers. “Then I won’t leave his side. Not until he’s awake, or…” He swallowed. “Or until he’s gone.”

Kylaryn curled her wing around him again. “We need to get you cleaned up, Valar. Your wounds need to be scrubbed out, and bandaged. When the healers arrive-”

“When the healers arrive, they can treat me right here.” Valar lay down alongside the gryphon, pressing up against him. “I promised him, mother. That if he died, I would not let him die alone. It doesn’t matter if he knows I’m here, or not.” He rested his paw atop the gryphon’s, squeezing it. “I promised him I’d stay with him, and stay with him I shall. Live, or die, I will remain at his side.”

“So be it, Valar.” Kylaryn rose to all fours, glancing at her youngest son. “Voskyr, help me fetch some fresh bandages, and cleansing spirits. If Valar won’t leave the gryphon, we’ll just have to clean his wounds right here.”

Valar waited until the others left the room, and then he whispered to the gryphon. “I’m right here, bird. I kept my promise. We did everything we could to save you. I don’t know if it’s enough, but I won’t leave you now. Just…try to hold on, a little longer. Try to live. Life can be so much better. There’s so much more to it, than bitterness and anger. We are so much more, than our resentments. I wish that were an easier lesson to learn.” He took a trembling breath. “I don’t know if you can hear me, or not. But I’m right here. And I’ll stay right here, by your side, for as long as you need me. Whether you die tonight, tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. I’ll be here, at your side.”

Valar nosed the gryphon’s ear. “Whatever happens next, I’m right here.” He sniffled, then lay his head down alongside the gryphon’s. “I’m right here.”