Revaramek the Resplendent - "Missing Chapter A" (Patreon)

(As explained to those of you in the discord, this chapter occurs earlier in the story than those recently posted. You may remember that a while back, we skipped a few chapters in the chapter order. This is one of those chapters. In the eventual revised version, this scene will take place much earlier in the story.

This scene in question takes place before Revaramek and Nyramyn head into the desert, when Nyra is about to have her wound treated by the city's healers. )


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Chapter A

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Dawn painted the waking world in shades of golden fire. The small pond in Mirelle’s back garden glowed with molten radiance, reflecting its own miniature sunrise. Revaramek stared at it silence with a wing draped across his mate’s back, and a forepaw resting atop her own. Fatigue weighed against the dragon, and bleariness clouded his vision until he blinked it away. He’d hardly slept.

Today was the day the healers were to attend Nyra’s wound. Revaramek suspected they would have to reopen it, and excise some of the inflamed tissue to help it heal properly. Mirelle and her people concurred, and so The Cathedral was chosen to serve as a temporary dragon infirmary. While Nyramyn would have preferred to undertake any potential convalescence at home, it was important she be nearer the city’s team of healers. The Cathedral offered plenty of room, and when closed to the public, enough privacy to help Nyramyn feel comfortable.

The dragons had arrived before dawn. The full team of healers and surgeons wished to examine her first thing in the morning. That way, if a procedure was deemed necessary, they would have the rest of the day to perform it. After that, Nyra could rest and recuperate in Mirelle’s tavern, and gardens for as long as was required.

“Isn’t it strange?” Nyramyn stared down at the water, just as he did.

Revaramek flattened his ears. He was happy for the distraction, but unsure what she meant. “What, the light?” He glanced towards the sky, flight membranes flicking shut across his eyes to protect them from the glare. “Are you still adjusting to it? I know how much brighter it is than the swamp.”

Nyramyn glanced up at him, nosing the emerald scales of his neck. “No. The light isn’t strange. It’s beautiful!” Ever so slowly, she lifted a forepaw, and pointed a single finger towards the center of the pond. There, a fat green frog with crimson spots sat atop a lily pad. It stared back at them, its throat twitching. “Thatthing is strange.”

Revaramek snorted. “The frog?”

“Yes!” Nyra set her paw back down. “They’re so weird looking.”

“You’ve seen them before, Nyra.” Revaramek rumbled his amusement. “Hell, Korakos ate one yesterday.”

Nyramyn shrugged her pale green wings. “That doesn’t mean I’m used to seeing them. I’d never imagined there might be sting-toads without stingers!”

“They’re not sting-toads, Nyra, they’re-”

“I know, I know.” Nyra tossed her head. “And a good thing for you, too, considering your incredible ability to find a way to be stung on the nose every time we saw one.”

“Not every time,” Revaramek said, laughing to himself.

Nyra nudged him with her muzzle again. “I suppose that’s true. There was the time you were stung on the ear, instead. Still not sure how you managed that.”

Revaramek winced at the memory. His ear momentarily throbbed in sympathy. “Nor am I.

“You know, Water Ally Revaramek…” Nyramyn flicked her tail tip back and forth several times before settling it across his own. “It’s a wonder you survived long enough to find and surrender to me in the first place.”

“That is it.” Revaramek smiled at her, turning his head to gently lick her cheek. “And I certainly would not have survived that swamp without you.”

“No,” Nyra said, leaning into his affection. “You would not have.” She lifted her forepaw, idly gesturing with it. “I, on the other hand, would survive this world just fine with you.”

Revaramek snorted, nosing at one of her ear frills. “That’s hardly a fair comparison.” He licked it, earning a happy little trill. “This world is vastly more survivable than the swamp!”

Nyramyn shrugged her wings against his. “Not my problem. But, since I no longer need your assistant to survive, you should consider yourself lucky I enjoy talking circles around you. It gives me a reason to keep you around.”

Revaramek growled, a playful sound. He bumped her ear with his muzzle. “Surely, there are a few otherreasons to keep me around than belittling me.”

Nyramyn tilted her head, glancing down along Revaramek’s underbelly. “If you’re talking about that,” she said, giggling to herself. “Then no, that’s definitely not worth keeping you around for.”

Revaramek gave a mock gasp, pressing a paw to his chest. “Ouch, Nyra. My pride!”

“Is that where your pride is?” Nyramyn arched her neck, grinning at him. “And I here I thought your pridewas what I was belittling. And from this angle…” She gazed down between his hind legs again. “Little does seem like the right word.”

Revaramek snapped his teeth. “Oh, please. You certainly weren’t complaining back in the swamp!”

“Of course not.” Nyra snuggled up to him under his wing. “But that’s because yours was literally the only one available to me. Now that I’ve got a whole world to explore, I can go meet other males, and try them out until I find one who really satisfies me.”

“Oh, very well.” Revaramek hung his head. “I’ll watch Korakos while you go and have your fun.”

Nyra nuzzled his jaw. “Don’t sulk. Just to make things fair, I’ll let you and your former slave mistress have some fun together while I’m away. Even yours ought to impress a human female.” She scrunched her muzzle. “Probably.”

“Oh, gods,” Revaramek said, laughing. “If I even suggested as much to Mirelle, she’d purchase every pair of boots in town just to try them out on me.”

Nyramyn laughed with him. “Oh, tell her to wait until I’m back then. That sounds entertaining! Oh, I know!” She lifted her frills, flashing Revaramek a wicked smile. “Perhaps I’ll ask her to do that to you to entertain me, while I’m recuperating.”

Revaramek shifted his weight, swallowing. “But then who would take care of you while I’mrecuperating?”

Nyramyn scratched her neck with a wing-tip talon, her frills slowly settling back down. “You make a fair point.”

thegryphons, instead. Then we can both laugh!”

Nyramyn laughed again, a happy, melodious sound. “Oh, I bet they’d make a squawk!”

“Like you’ve never heard before!”

Nyra tilted her head. “Why do I suddenly have the suspicion you’ve heard that sort of noise from them before?”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “No idea why you’d imagine that.”

“No, of course not.” Nyra rested her head against his, still smiling. “Considering we’re going to ask them to watch our son for us, we should probably stay on their good side.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Revaramek patted her forepaw. “We can always have Mirelle order them to take care of Korakos.”

“Oh?” Nyra licked her nose. “Was she their slave driver, too?”

Revaramek chuckled. “You know, my love, some days I can’t tell you’re still teasing me from when you’ve started asking serious questions.”

“Just the way I like it.” Nyra eased her head away from his, looking towards the large, steeple-topped building looming beyond the nearby line of pine trees. “And speaking of your slave mistress, here she comes now.”

Revaramek turned his head to follow her gaze. Mirelle followed the trail in the grass that skirted around the trees, headed towards them. She wore a long-sleeved black blouse with silver patterns, with breeches in matching color and threading. Her dark hair was tied behind her head with a golden ribbon. As she neared the dragons, she slowed her pace, eventually coming to a stop a short distance away. Fatigue darkened her eyes. Revaramek wondered if she’d slept as little as he had.

Mirelle rubbed her hands together. “They’re ready whenever Nyra’s ready.”

Revaramek nodded, his belly twisting into cold knots. “Thank you, Mirelle. Let me ask her.” He turned his head to gently nose at Nyra’s ear. “Mirelle says-”

“I know what she says.” Nyramyn slipped out from under his wing, pushing up to her feet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Revaramek perked his ears. “You understood that?”

“Her words?” Nyra shook her head. “No. But it’s not hard to guess.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slow. “And before you ask, no, I’m not ready to do this. But sitting here staring at the frogs certainly isn’t going to make me ready, either. There’s nothing more that can be done to steel my nerves, at this point. I’d like to just be done with it.” She stepped towards Mirelle, then smiled back at Revaramek over her wings. “But thank you for the pleasant distraction while we waited, my love.”

Revaramek stared at her in silence. Pride swelled in his heart, and threatened to moisten his already bleary eyes with tears. She was so strong, he thought. Even as her body slowly failed her, her inner strength, her heart grew ever stronger. Every fear she had, she found a way to face it with a smile. Revaramek would never not be proud of her.

“You’re ever so welcome, Nyra.” He joined her, and then bowed his head to Mirelle. “Lead the way, please.”

Mirelle nodded, and turned back towards the tavern. “How’s Korakos doing?”

“Better than I am,” Revaramek said, chuckling. “Lucky little whelp slept all night long! I scarcely managed a moment’s worth of dreams. I’d have been pacing if I didn’t have my wings around her…” He inclined his head towards Nyramyn. “Think I might be even more nervous than she is!”

Nyramyn bumped him with her nose. “Tell Mirelle that you’re even more nervous than I am!”

“I just did, love.”

Mirelle glanced back. “What’d she say?”

Revaramek grunted. “The same thing I did!” He flicked his tail, padding alongside his mate. “Anyway, we dropped Korakos off with the birds on our way here. He knows the gist of why we’re here. And he wanted to come along, but…” The dragon twisted up his muzzle. “He doesn’t need to see what I suspect they’re going to have to do.”

Mirelle grimaced, shaking her head. “Agreed. Are the gryphons going to bring him by tonight?”

“That’s the plan, yes.” He turned his head, watching Nyra as they walked. “As long as there aren’t any…” He swallowed, unable to finish that sentence.

“Everything will be fine, Revaramek.” Mirelle paused long enough to offer him a comforting smile.

Nyra nuzzled him. “Everything will be fine, Revaramek.”

Revaramek returned the gesture, chuckling to himself. “Are you sure you can’t understand Mirelle’s language yet? That’s exactly what she just said.”

Nyra gave him a blank stare. “Why would I say exactly the same thing, on purpose?”

“To mess with me,” Revaramek said. He gave her a lick, and then followed Mirelle again.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” Nyramyn walked along at his side. “When I do learn the local tongue, I shall have to remember to play dumb just to irritate you.”

Revaramek tossed his head. “Yes, I’m sure you will.”

Silence settled over them as they followed Mirelle through her back yard, towards the sizable tavern looming nearby. In the distance, sunlight glittered on golden sands. The sight caught Revaramek so off-guard, he stumbled over his own paws. When he caught his balance, he came to a stop and stared at the sands. The dragon blinked a few times, half-expecting the sand to vanish like so many mirages. Somehow, all these years later, that single patch of sand left in Asterbury’s furious wake still startled him from time to time.

“Isn’t it odd,” Revaramek said, as much to himself as anyone else. “That it’s never really changed? Your pond and your springs came back just fine, just like your moss and most of your grass. But this one patch of sand? It’s unchanged, year after year. The rain never washes it away, weeds never overgrow it. It’s never dirty, or discolored. It’s always just…” He waved his paw at it. “A perfect little patch of golden desert.”

“That…” Mirelle turned around, scowling. “Is actually a little disconcerting. I never really thought about it, that way. Maybe I should have had it dug up after all.”

“No…” Revaramek shook his head. “It’s better this way, to remind us of…” He trailed off. Memories flickered through his head. Crackles of blue lightening, tearing through the sky. The grass rotting away. Asterbury, screaming at Jekk about cruelties heaped upon an innocent pup. Aylaryl, pleading with Asterbury not to lose control. He swallowed. “Of everything. Besides, Vakaal would like knowing you let your children’s patrons play in it. He’d want it to be a happy place.”

Mirelle rubbed the back of her neck. “I suppose he would.”

Wind swirled across the garden, stirring up sand into tiny golden whirls. When the gusts shifted, the whirling sands crashed into one another. For a moment, and only a moment, Revaramek glimpsed the outline of an urd’thin amidst the swirling clouds. Then the winds changed again, scattering the golden dust back across the earth. The dragon blinked, glancing at Mirelle to see if she’d seen it too. But she was already walking back towards the house.

“Did…did you…” He licked his muzzle, splaying his ears. “Nyra, did you see that?”

“The little sand whirls?” Nyra offered him a smile, before she followed after Mirelle. “I did! They were very pretty!” She paused, waiting for him to catch up. “If we’re to be stuck here a few days, we should tell Korakos to keep his flight membranes closed around the sands. You know how he likes to play in them. I don’t want him getting sand in his eyes.”

Revaramek ground his teeth. Maybe he’d only imagined the urd’thin silhouetted by the sands. It wouldn’t be the first time his imagination got the best of him, after all. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was Vakaal, watching over them. He sighed, deciding against telling anyone else. Nyramyn had enough to worry about, right now. Besides, maybe it was just Vakaal, looking out for them. The idea made him smile, even if the whole thing was just in his head.

As he walked alongside Nyramyn, he glanced back at the sand one more time. Revaramek half expected to see a teeny, tiny little dune rising, with an even tinier urd’thin pup dancing across it. He snorted to himself, deciding that if he also saw a tiny little army marching towards the pup, he was going to go squish every single invader long before they reached their target. Everything looked normal, anyway. At least, as normal as a flawless patch of desert sand in the middle of a marshland could look.

The dragon sighed, and turned his attention back to more pressing matters. Mirelle led them to the back patio of the Cathedral. The expansive buildings grand, stained glass windows glowed with rainbow radiance in the morning sun. It’s towering steeples, arched buttresses, and decorative spiked battlements loomed over the garden, as imposing as they were beautiful. All the furniture had been removed from the wooden patio. The double doors of the back entrance were wide open. People bustled about inside. The usually enticing scents of ales and food were partly replaced by something more astringent.

Revaramek wrinkled his nose. “What is that smell?”

Mirelle made her way up steps onto the patio, glancing back. “Alcohol.”

“Oh, Mirelle!” Revaramek arched his neck. “Something’s gone wrong with your brewing process! You can’t serve people alcohol that smells like that, you’ll make them sick!”

Mirelle made a face. “That’s not my alcohol.”

“I don’t care who made it!” The dragon tossed his head. “You can’t let people drink it.”

“It’s medicinal, you scaly idiot.” Mirelle pinched the bridge of her nose. “The healers brought a damn ocean’s worth. They’ve been using it to scrub everything clean.”

“Oh. Right.” Revaramek shook himself. “I knew that.”

Mirelle rolled her eyes. “Sure, you did. Are you ready to go in?”

“Why does it smell like that?” Nyramyn sniffed at the air, alternating between scrunching up her muzzle and poking her tongue out. “It makes my nose feel funny! Is that the smell of what humans drink here? Don’t they burn their throats?”

“No, that’s…” Revaramek glanced between Mirelle and Nyra. “Actually, that does give me an idea.” He waved at the doorway. “Mirelle, do me a favor? Go ask the healers if Nyra can have a little alcohol first. She mentioned something about steeling her nerves, earlier. A drink might help.”

Mirelle nodded. “Good idea. Give me a minute to ask.”

As Mirelle went inside, Revaramek settled on his haunches. “Let’s wait here a moment. Mirelle’s going to ask if you can have a drink.”

Nyramyn sat next to him, shaking her head. “No, thank you. I don’t want to drink anything that smells like that.”

Revaramek chuckled. “Not that stuff. What you’re smelling is their medicinal spirits. It’s not for drinking, it’s for cleaning wounds, and medical tools.”

Nyramyn cocked her head, ever so slightly. “Did you have to ask Mirelle about that?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

Mirelle soon returned. “Alright. The healers say Nyra can have a drink or too, as long as she doesn’t over do it.” She held her hands up. “If they do have to undertake a procedure, then they’ll probably give her some medicine that will help her sleep through the worst of it. And if she has too much alcohol, that can cause a problem.” Mirelle chewed her lip. “And their measurements of how much of what they can safely give her are all very…” She shrugged. “Approximately. So-”

“What do you mean approximate?” Revaramek narrowed his eyes, spines raised.

“I mean, no one knows exactly how much it’s going to take to put a dragon under.” Mirelle gazed at Nyra, furrowing her brow. “So they don’t want her to drink too much.”

Revaramek lashed his tail. “I thought they’d-” He clamped his jaws shut, cutting himself off. “Nevermind. I don’t want to make Nyra any more anxious than she already is.” He turned his head to nose his mate, who was now giving him a very suspicious look. “They say you can drink something as long as-”

“Why are you getting frustrated with Mirelle?” Nyra glared at him. “What did she say? Translate!”

“If they have to…” Revaramek glanced back towards Nyra’s improperly healing wound. “You know.”

“Cut me open, clean me out, and sew me back together.” Nyra’s voice was flat. “You can say it, Rev. We made our deal, and I will abide it, no matter how agonizing it may be.”

“Yes.” Revaramek swallowed. “That. But that’s what Mirelle and I were discussing. If they determine that the best course of action, they made medicine for you to take, that will put you to sleep. That way it won’t hurt-”

“It will still hurt when I wake!” Nyra snarled at him, but her sudden anger died away as quickly as it came. She hung her head, her ears drooping. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snarl at you. I’m just…”

“I know, love, I know.” Revaramek pressed his head to hers, speaking softly. “They’ll have medicine to help you manage the pain after you awake, too. They just aren’t sure how much it take to put a dragon to sleep.”

Nyra managed a little laugh. “How very comforting.”

“Which is what I was getting upset with Mirelle about” He glanced towards Mirelle, switching to the common tongue. “Unfairly upset, that is. Sorry, Mirelle.”

Mirelle rubbed his shoulder. “Totally understandable. Does she want something to drink, before she goes in?”

“I’m not sure.” He lifted his head from Nyra’s, addressing her in her own language again. “Would you like to try some alcohol? It will help you steady your nerves.”

“In that case, yes.” She bumped him with her muzzle. “Lots of it.”

“She says yes, Mirelle.” Revaramek held up a paw. “Before you ask, no, she won’t have a preference. She’s never really had actual alcohol, before. Bring her that strong golden ale that I like. The sweeter one.”

“Right.” Mirelle turned away. “Let me go and find a drinking bucket.”

“A bucket?” Revaramek glowered down at his friend. “You’re going to make Nyra drink out of a bucket? She’s not a racehorse, Mirelle! At least give her proper glassware!”

“Glassware.” Mirelle paused, then turned back around, her hands on her hips. “You want me to give a nervous dragon who’s never had alcohol in her entire life, a small, fragile glass vessel? To hold in her shaking paws, and put up to her muzzle? Are you trying to give the surgeons more work to do?”

Revaramek huffed, thumping his tail against the wooden patio flooring. “Oh, you know what I mean. Give her a big soup pot, or something. Anything but a bucket.”

Nyra swatted his foreleg. “Translate!”

Revaramek licked her neck. “In a moment, love, in a moment.”

“A soup pot?” Mirelle arched a brow. “How about the same soup pot you put your dirty balls in?”

The dragon tilted his head, a grin parting his muzzle. “Firstly, my balls are not dirty now, nor were the then!” He snorted. “Other than your boot prints. Secondly, I did not put them in your soup pot.” Revaramek lifted a forepaw, crooked a digit, and gestured at himself in a rough circle. “I strategically placed it to protect myself fromsaid boots.”

“Be that as it may,” Mirelle said, laughing a little. “I rather doubt Nyramyn would find that story as amusing as we did, when she realized what she was drinking out of.”

“Oh, Mirelle.” Revaramek glanced at Nyra, lifting his frills in playful dragon smirk. “I assure you she’s had more in her muzzle than-”

“Let me stop you right there, Rev.” Mirelle waved him off. “And leave at least a little of that charming revelation to the imagination.”

“Imagine away, Mirelle!”

Mirelle grimaced. “I’m trying not to, actually. Anyway, I stopped using that pot for cooking as soon as you repurposed it. Now it just carries grease and rubbish out to the fires.”

Nyra swatted his leg again, harder this time. “What are you two talking about?”

Revaramek opened a wing and brushed it across Nyramyn. “We were discussing what manner of drinking vessel you should use.”

Nyra cocked her head, her eyes narrowed. “Then why were you smirking at me like that?”

“Mirelle made a dirty joke,” Revramek said, glancing away.

“That sounds more like you than her.” She slapped his scales again. “Why won’t you translate-”

“How about that drink, Mirelle?” Revaramek gently nudged Mirelle towards the tavern with his paw. He switched back to the common language. “Just get her one of those fancy drinking bowls the birds use.”

“Stop pushing me!” Mirelle smacked his paw away. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“Why is everyone swatting me?” Revaramek shook his forepaw. “Just pick something classier than a bucket.”

“The same reasons as usual, I should imagine.” Mirelle offered Nyra a smile, then glanced back at Rev. “Since when do you care about classy?”

“Since it’s for Nyra!” Revaramek stretched his wing further, cradling her under it. “She deserves the very best, Mirelle.”

Mirelle gave a little sigh, relenting. “I can’t argue that. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m talking about drinking buckets. I commissioned an entire line of them, specifically for dragons. After I noticed you tend to just…” She waved at his face. “Messily lap up whatever I give you. Just think of them as great big bowls with handles.”

“Oh, very well. But at least bring her your nicest bucket.”

Mirelle offered an overly stiff bow. “Right away, my benevolent overlord.”

Revaramek shook himself, trilling. “That’s more like it.”

“When she’s ready, why don’t you follow me inside?” Mirelle started towards the door. “She can get settled and comfortable, and I’ll bring her drink. They’ll give her a few minutes first.”

“Very well.” As Mirelle vanished into the Cathedral, Revaramek gently stroked Nyra’s foreleg. “Mirelle has suggested we go inside, when you’re prepared. So you can get comfortable, and try to relax before they examine you.”

Nyra nodded once. “Very well. We…” She took a slow breath, then swallowed. “We may as well go inside.”

“Everything will be fine, Nyra.” Revaramek licked her neck a few times, hugging her beneath his wing. “I promise.”

“So you keep telling me.” She arched her neck into his affections. “And…even though I’m only here because we made a deal?” Nyra turned her head, her eyes meeting his. “Thank you for being here with me, Revaramek.”

“Of course, Nyra.” He pressed his nose against hers. “I will be by your side, every single moment. I promise.”

“Thank you.” Nyramyn gave him a lick, then sighed. “Let’s go in.”

Revaramek led Nyramyn forward, through the doorway. He walked slowly, cradling her beneath his wing as she looked around. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, painting the interior in colorful rainbow hues. The tables and chairs that usually filled the main dining hall were now piled up in corners, or stuffed into storage rooms. The air was heavy with the astringent scent of medicinal spirits. Nyra wrinkled her nose against it. Decorative brass censers hung from the ornate crossbeams that spanned the ceiling. The scented smoke that wafted from them was flowery and comforting, but struggled mightily to cut through the harsh smell of alcohol. The elaborately carved front doors were wide open, but even the breeze could not clear the air.

Layers of soft, white linens were spread out across the floor, along with plenty of rounded, gray cushions. The long, polished countertop bar that ran along one side of the room was now occupied by more vials, bottles, and medical tools than Revaramek could count. Mirelle stood behind it, pouring ale from one of the many great wooden barrels stacked up decoratively along the back wall.

Nyra paused, staring across the room, where the healers and surgeons had gathered to give the dragons some momentary space. Revaramek counted at least a dozen of them, all dressed in the golden uniforms of the city’s healers. Revaramek was pleased to see a mix of humans, va’chaak, and urd’thin among their ranks, as he knew Nyra would benefit from their peoples’ combined expertise. They offered waves and calls of greeting, which Revaramek returned. Nyra watched him, then lifted her forepaw and attempted an awkward wave of her own.

“You can get comfortable there,” Mirelle said, pointing across the bar. “Where all the cushions are. That whole area has been scrubbed, and the linens are clean as can be.”

Revaramek nodded, and then walked Nyra onto the outstretched linens. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, Nyra.”

Nyra bumped her tail against him. “As comfortable as I can be, exposing my wounded belly to humans.” She pulled some of the cushions together, then slowly settled herself onto them.

“They’re not allhuman,” Revaramek said, easing onto his haunches alongside her.

“True.” Nyra adjusted her wings, shifting to her side. “I did notice some of your half-breed children amongst them.”

Revaramek tossed his head, fighting back a laugh. “I keep telling you, those aren’t my children.”

“If you say so.” Nyra tilted her head, watching them. “They certainly look like the offspring of a dragon and a human to me. But…” She turned her gaze towards Revaramek, poking her tongue out at him. “I suppose you’d know better than me what all your children with Mirelle look like.”

Revaramek flared up his frills, his eyes widen. “I certainly don’t have any children with Mirelle!”

“No?” Nyra stared at him. “So that wasn’t one of your slave duties when she was your mistress?”

“Of course not!” Revaramek thumped his tail. “And she wasn’t my slave mistress.”

“The older one, then.” Nyra gestured with a paw. “What’s her name, again?”

Revaramek lay down onto his belly, crossing his forelegs. “Enora.”

“Yes, that one.” Nyra nosed at his ear. “How many children do you have with her?”

“Zero!”

“What’s she teasing you about now?” Mirelle came around the counter, carrying an immense, gold and silver vessel in her arms. Elegant, stylized dragons were inlaid all across its brilliant surface. A large handle was carved in the shape of the dragons forelegs, as if they were holding hands. “Here. My classiest bucket.”

“Mirelle, that’s not a bucket!” Revaramek sat up to take it in his forepaws. “This is a beautiful chalice, fit for a queen! As it should be.”

“It’s not real gold and silver,” Mirelle said, chuckling. “And it’s not a chalice, either. A chalice has a footed base, and-”

“Can’t hear you, serving my mate ale from a gold and silver chalice.” Revaramek set it before Nyra. A little foam dribbled down the sides. Scents of fruits and bittersweet spice drifted from the golden liquid within. “Ooh, I love this one. Here, Nyra, try it.”

Nyra lowered her head, sniffing at it. After a moment, she gave the ale a single, cautious lick.

“If she doesn’t like that one, she’s welcome to try the rest until she finds one she enjoys.” Mirelle stepped closer to wipe her hands off on Revaramek’s scales. “Now, are you going to tell me what she was teasing you about, or not?”

Revaramek gave a derisive snort. “She’s back to asking about the parentage of the va’chaak.”

Mirelle glanced at the female dragon as Nyra took another curious drink. “I thought you cleared that up for her?”

“I did.” Revaramek lay back down, resting a foreleg across Nyra’s. “But she’s taken revenge on me for laughing at her about the idea, by playing dumb and assuming they’re all mychildren.”

“Oh, I see.” Mirelle turned on her heel, gazing at the va’chaak among the healers. “You havebeen busy.”

Revaramek slapped his free paw against the ground. “Don’t you start! She already wanted to know how many of them were yours.”

Mirelle arched her brow, and then burst into raucous laughter. “She really has the wrong idea about us. I shall have to set her straight, as soon as I can speak her tongue.”

“I’m quite sure she knows better.” He switched over to the swamp dragon tongue, and then pointed to one of the va’chaak. “Mirelle says that one’s hers!”

Nyramyn lifted her muzzle from the ale, licking droplets from it. “Is he? Yes, I can see the resemblance. Mirelle must be older than I thought, though, that creature looks almost as old as she does.”

Revaramek cackled. “Oh, Nyra! Now that is cruel.”

Nyra laughed with him, but then snapped her teeth. “Don’t you dare translate that to her.”

Mirelle sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Do I even want to ask?”

Revaramek quickly shook his head. “No. You definitely do not.”

Mirelle chuckled, adjusting a sleeve. “Very well. At least find out if she likes the ale.”

“She wants to know if you like the drink.” Revaramek ran his finger around the rim of the bucket, then licked the foam off of it.

“Actually, yes!” Nyra lapped up a few more mouthfuls, then offered a happy purr. “It’s quite strange, but it’s also quite good. And it makes me feel warm.” She drank some more, then glanced at Mirelle. “Tell her what I said! And also, thank her for me.”

Revaramek grunted, tail tip twitching. “You two have got to learn to talk to each other.” He shifted languages. “Yes, Mirelle, she likes it a lot, and she says thank you.” He looked past her, to where the healers were now all watching them. “Are they ready?”

Mirelle nodded. “Whenever Nyra’s ready. She can finish her drink, or keep enjoying it while they examine her.”

“That might help distract her.” Revaramek patted Nyra’s forepaw. “Love, how do you feel about the healers coming over while you’re still drinking?”

Nyra swallowed hard, flattening her ears. “Very well. The sooner they begin, the sooner they’re finished, right?”

Revaramek smiled, and licked her cheek. “That’s exactly right.” He gestured for Mirelle to fetch them, but kept his attention on Nyra. “Now, for the most part, I’m just going to let them do their work, at first. I’ll translate anything important, or any questions you have for them. If anything hurts too much or makes you uncomfortable, speak up and I’ll stop them immediately. Otherwise, this will be over the quickest if we just leave them to their duties. You enjoy your drink, and I’ll hold your paw, and keep you company. How does that sound?”

“Acceptable, Water Ally Revaramek.” Nyra pressed her muzzle to his in gentle, appreciative kiss. “But don’t forget, you owe me an adventure in the desert.”

Revaramek returned her kiss, ignoring the group of healers looking on. “Is that what you think we’re going to find out there? An adventure?”

Nyra shrugged her wings. “You don’t find an adventure, Revaramek. You have an adventure. And yes.” She arched her neck, and tilted her head, a haughty expression. “I expect to have an adventure with you.” Her voice faltered, her posture softened. “It’s just…you used to regale me with, with tales of all your old adventures. And…for so long, I thought you were just…” A wistful smile crept across her beautiful green muzzle. “A gifted storyteller, with a vivid imagination. And yet, whenever your words held me in thrall, whenever the hardships and horrors of the swamp melted away around me, I…” She swallowed, sighing. “I couldn’t help but wonder, what it must be like. Just…just to havean adventure.” Nyra sniffled, leaning her head against him. “To know life as more than just…a struggle. To find my joy in more than a morning of clean rain, or a bite of sweet crab. To see impossible things, to know and understandwonderment, as…” She sniffed again. “As you know it. So yes, I made our deal because I will not, I cannot let you leave me behind again. But beyond all that, I’m going with you, because…” Her voice broke. A few tears brimmed in her eyes, then swiftly ran down her pebbly scales. “Because I want to have an adventure with you, while I still can.”

“Oh, Nyra…” Revaramek cupped her muzzle in a paw, pressing his head to hers. “You will have somany adventures in your lifetime! You-”

“No, Rev, I won’t!” Voice crackling, she blinked away more tears, then stroked his leg. “But I-”

“You will!” Revaramek shifted, grasping her muzzle with both paws, staring into her eyes. Tears blurred his own vision, and he forced words through his tightening throat. “I know you think you aren’t going to make it. And I know you think me a fool for believing you will! I won’t argue it with you, because-”

“You’re not a fool, Rev.” Nyra closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. “You’re just filled with boundless optimism.” She flicked her tongue out, brushing his nose. “A trait to be cherished. But I fear it leaves you unprepared for what may happen, and I…I dread what that would do to you, if I’m gone, and you…” She sucked in a shaking breath. When she opened her eyes once more, terror filled them. “I don’t want you to think it’s your fault. You’re so convinced you can save me! What if you can’t? Rev, when I’m gone, I don’t want you to think it’s because you failed somehow. That…that would be a wound far harder for you to close than any I have ever suffered.”

Revaramek stared into her eyes, lost in the fear. “Nyra…” His heart shuddered in his chest, and his voice rattled in his throat. “You know me so well…”

“I just…” Nyra nuzzled himself, lifting a paw to cradle his head. “I need to know, you’ll be alright. That you’re prepared for-”

“I’m prepared!” Revaramek hissed his words with more fervor than he meant.

Nyra hissed right back at him. “You’re not! You’re not! You’re convinced you’re going to save me! But what is that going to do to you, if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not…” Wrong.He was going to say, he was not wrong. Somewhere, deep in his heart, Revaramek knew she was right. He was convinced he could save her. He wasconvinced they still had their entire lifetimes to spend together. He wasstill convinced that Nyra would watch Korakos. He believed all these things. And if he was wrong, if he failed to save her, then her loss would cleave him to his very soul. And into that open wound, an ocean of guilt would pour. For if he could save her, but failed, then was that not his fault?

Revaramek worked his jaws a few times, but no words came out.

“It’s alright.” Nyra sniffled, gently nuzzling him again. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Finally, Revaramek managed to croak out a few words. “You’re right, Nyra.”

Nyra rested her chin atop his muzzle. “Of course, I am, Water Ally Revaramek. I’m always right.”

Her gentle jibe brought a faint smile to Revaramek’s muzzle. “So you are. Then surely even you must admit, there is a chance that I can save you.”

Nyra blinked back further tears. “Only when you admit there is a chance you can’t. And that if I die, it isn’t your fault.”

“There is a chance…” Revaramek struggled just to repeat after her. “That you might…not do well.”

Nyra snorted, her breath washing across his face. “You need to say it. If I die, it is not your fault.”

Rev forced a battered smile to his muzzle. “If I die, it is not your fault.”

“That isn’t funny.” Nyra’s claw tips prickled against his scales. She flashed her teeth. “I’m seriousRev. When I look into your eyes, I don’t want to see my loss reflected in them. I know, all too well, how hard it would be for you to lose me. Just as I once thought I’d lost you. Do you not think, there were nights when I lay awake, silently crying, because I thought it was my fault? That I had somehow brought about your death. That you were lost to the swamp, because of some mistake I’d made, some error I’d taught you by accident, some deathly thing I’d forgotten to warn you about. I had to tell myself, to convincemyself, that sometimes? Sometimes bad things just happen. They’re not anyone’s fault.” She took a shaking breath, tears running down her cheeks again. “I need you to understand that you didn’t make me sick! But neither can you healme.”

“But…maybe-”

“Yes, maybe!” Nyra sat up straighter, cradling his head in both hands. She mantled her wings around them. “Maybe you can find someone who can save me! But maybe you can’t. I…” Her voice broken, and for a few long, painful moments, the only sound that came from her was an anguished whine. “I need you to come to terms with this, Revaramek. Korakos needs you to come to terms with it. Because if I die, he will need you, more than ever. He will need you to be the strong, optimistic, joyful, happy dragon you’ve always been. Not some…guilt-ridden wreck, wondering how he could fail, at something he couldn’t even control. So…So I need you to say it. And I need you to believe it.” She eased back, staring into his eyes.

Revaramek forced himself to meet her gaze. His heart rattled in his chest. Every word spoken was its own battle. “If you die…it is not my fault.”

Nyra pressed her forepaw against his chest, just above his heart. “It is not your fault.”

Revaramek was silent for several heartbeats. He rested his forepaw atop hers, over his chest. After several deep breaths, he’d managed to collect himself, a little. The dragon lifted his other forepaw, and wiped a tear from Nyra’s muzzle. “I love you, Nyra.”

Nyramyn smiled at him, her ears lifted. “I love you too, Revaramek.”

“I’m still going to try and save you.” Strength filtered back into his voice.

Nyra’s smile widened. “I know.”

“And I’m going to take you on the best gods-damned adventure you’ve ever imagined.”

Nyra laughed, like beautiful, tension breaking music. “You’d damn well better.”