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

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Chapter C

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“Alright, Dragon.” Binir beckoned to Revaramek from the Cathedral’s rear entrance. “You can come back in, now. Everything went-”

“Oh, thank the gods.” Revaramek jumped to his paws, nearly bowling the surgeon over on his way through the doors. “How did it go? How is she? When will she be awake? What do I need to do for her? What should-”

“If you’d give me a moment to talk, I’ll tell you.” Binir scowled at him, moving aside to give him room. Then she glanced at Mirelle. “Is he always like this?”

Mirelle shrugged, then shook her head. “No. Normally, he’s way worse. This is him being anxious and restrained.” She snatched at one of the dragon’s tail spines, tugging it for his attention. “Revaramek, take a breath. Take three breaths, actually. Then listen to what Binir has to say.”

Revaramek stopped, gnashing his teeth. “Yes, yes, I know.” He curled his neck around to look back at Binir. “So, how did it go? Is she alright? Did she-”

Mirelle yanked his tail spine harder. “Three breaths! Then let her talk.”

The dragon pinned his frills. While he knew Mirelle was absolutely right, it didn’t make it any easier to do as she asked. He forced himself to swallow back his questions, and take a deep breath in their stead. Then he held it, trying to quell the nervous pounding of his heart. The dragon exhaled slowly, and took another breath, wishing it would also untangle the nervous knots in his belly. He sighed, and took a third breath, holding it till his lungs ached.

Binir waited until the dragon exhaled before she continued again. “Everything went very well, dragon. Despite her illness, her body handled everything aplomb.”

Revaramek tilted his head. “She did? With aplomb, you say?”

Mirelle released his tail spine, crossing her arms. “Wait for it…”

The dragon glanced back at her. “Wait for what, Mirelle?”

“Oh, no.” Mirelle waggled her finger at him. “I’m not going to make a joke about handling your plums for you…” Mirelle blinked when she realized what she said. “Damn it!”

Revaramek cackled, thumping his tail against the floor. His spines clattered against the wood. “Oh, that’s good, Mirelle! But no, I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort.” He forced himself to glower at her. “After all, this is a very serious time. We can’t be making dirty jokes until Nyra’s conscious enough to enjoy them with us.”

Binir rolled her eyes. “You two are made for each other.”

Mirelle glared at the dragon, then turned towards Binir. “If you knew him like I did, you’d have expected him to say that, too.”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “I was just going to comment on her use of the word aplomb! You don’t hear that very often, do you?” Mirelle opened her mouth to reply, only for Revaramek to lift a forepaw in front of her face to cut her off. “So, Binir! You said Nyra handled things with aplomb?”

The hint of a smile cracked Binir’s stony expression. “I did, yes. She had no trouble with her breathing, nor her heart rate. Neither did we have any trouble getting most of the bleeding to stop as we sewed her back up.”

Revaramek dropped his forepaw, a tiny tine of ice digging into his heart. “Most?”

Binir held her hands up. “The wound will continue to seep and bleed a little as it heals. That’s normal, Dragon. For now we’d like her dressings changed twice a day. In the morning, and the evening. We can do it for you, or we can show you how to do it, as required.”

“Teach me how. She’ll be more comfortable with me doing so, if possible.” He turned his attention towards his mate. Nyra lay in the same position he’d left her, with the healers now cleaning up the last of their supplies to make room for him. A white, gauzy dressing now covered the freshly stitched wound. “How long must she wear it?”

“At least a couple weeks.” Binir walked through the Cathedral, leading the dragon and Mirelle towards Nyra. “The exact time will depend on how quickly she heals. Even after she’s stopped seeping, a dressing will help protect the stitches.”

Revaramek nodded, measuring his steps so as not to overtake her. “But you do think she will heal? You took quite a bit of…” The dragon winced. Watching them work had been arduous. “Flesh.”

Binir gave a single, solemn nod. “The infection ran deep, but yes. We believe we’ve gotten all the necrotic tissue. And we’ve quite thoroughly sterilized her wound, afterwards. Just as importantly, we were still able to sew her shut effectively. So yes, given time, she should heal up just fine.” Binir glanced back over her shoulder. “But don’t let her get too exuberant. And no flying until the stitches come out.”

“She won’t like that.” Revaramek scrunched his muzzle. “But it won’t be a surprise, either. What else?”

“The wound needs to stay clean.” When they reached Nyra, Binir helped clean up the last of the supplies. Her people laid out a fresh blanket alongside Nyramyn, and Binir waved at it. “You can sit with her now, dragon.” She moved back to give him room. “When we change her dressing later, we’ll teach you how to do it. It’s simple, really. But you’ll need to keep an eye on the wound as you do so. If you see any signs of redness, new infection, or anything at all that doesn’t seem right, inform us immediately.”

Revaramek settled down onto his haunches on the blanket. He stretched out a wing and gently draped it across Nyra’s back. “Of course. What about the pain? What can she take?”

“Some of the same things we already gave her.” Binir waved at the empty wooden bowls now stacked up on the counter. “But at a smaller dose. If it doesn’t help enough, we can give her a stronger dose, but the more we give her, the greater the effect on her consciousness, as well.”

“In other words,” Mirelle said. “Too much of that shit, and she’ll start getting loopy.”

“Yes.” Binir chuckled. “That. The pain should start to ease naturally within a week, or so.”

Revaramek slowly stroked Nyra’s neck. “Good. How long until she wakes?”

Binir rubbed her chin, then glanced up at the stained glass windows, gauging the sunlight filtering through them. “Within an hour or so, I’d say. Two at the outside. We’ll continue to monitor her until then. If it’s longer than that, we may introduce a small amount of antidote just to help bring her around.” She held up a hand to caution the dragon. “However, she will likely seem quite out of it, when she wakes. And she’ll be quite drowsy for the rest of the day. She may well doze now, and then. Tonight, try and get her to go to sleep early, and let her sleep until she wakes naturally. Tomorrow she should be clearer headed.”

“Understood.” Revaramek smiled down at his mate. “Anything else?”

“She’ll be quite wobbly at first, and likely the rest of the day.” Binir glanced back at the rear entryway. “You can let her go outside, but I wouldn’t let her walk around too much. And wherever she goes, you should walk with her, so that she can lean on you for support.”

“Already planning on it.”

“Good.” Binir crouched down near Nyra’s head, and gently rubbed the female dragon’s muzzle. “She did very well. I think she’ll heal up just fine.” She stood back up, dusting off her hands. “I believe that’s it, for the time being. I’ll leave you with her.”

Revaramek found her gentle gesture touching. He lowered his head to offer Binir the most respectful bow he could manage whilst seated. “Thank you, Binir. For all you’ve done.”

“My pleasure, Dragon.” She returned the bow, and then joined her companions nearby.

When Binir was gone, Mirelle rubbed Revaramek’s foreleg. “Do you want me to leave you alone with her?”

Revaramek shook his head, his voice soft. “No, that’s alright, Mirelle. I appreciate the thought, but it’s nice to have you here, right now.” He glanced down at her, a small grin parting his muzzle. “Besides, it’s not like she’s going to wake up wanting to handle my plums.”

Mirelle put her hand over her face, sighing. “You’re not about to let that one go, are you.”

“Not on your life, Mirelle!” Revaramek cackled.

Mirelle chuckled with him. “Well, given the circumstances, I’ll allow you two, maybe three more of those.” She tapped a booted foot against the floorboards. “And then I’m going to handle your plums, with my boot.”

Revaramek pulled his hind legs closer together, still grinning. “I’m not sure that euphemism works quite as well as you think it does.” He licked his nose. “But I hope you’ll at least tell me when I’ve expended my allotment.”

“I’ll think about it.” Mirelle turned towards the bar. “Speaking of things that are easily expended-”

“Let me stop you right there, Mirelle!” Revaramek held up a forepaw. “Because I am most certainly not.”

“You’re not what?” Mirelle gave him a confused look, then scrunched her face when it hit her. “Oh, damn it, Rev.” The dragon laughed, and Mirelle soon laughed with him. “You know, when you boast about it like that, it makes me want to ask Nyra if it’s true.”

Revaramek cleared his throat with an odd little growl. “What a shame then that you don’t share a common language.”

“Not yet,” Mirelle said, walking around the bar. She flashed the dragon a wicked smile. “But we will, soon enough.”

Revaramek curled his tail around his paws. “Oh, Mirelle, Nyramyn is a fine, upstanding female. She won’t be interested in gossiping about such things like some booze-emboldened street corner harlot!”

Mirelle laughed again, fetching herself a mug. “Now you sound like the Tea Kettle.” She shook the mug at him. “And you don’t you dare tell him that you’ve got mecalling him that, either.”

The dragon stroked his mate’s neck, lifting his frills. “He wouldn’t understand me even if I did! I accidentally called him that to his face the other day, and that magnificently mustachioed madman thought I was asking him to make me tea. Said he’d left his kettle at home.” He cocked his head. “And can you even imagine him drinking tea? Do you suppose he just uses his mustache to strain it?”

Mirelle made a face at that idea as she poured herself some ale. “I’m still coming to terms with ‘magnificently mustachioed madman’. How long have you been waiting to uncork that one?”

“A few weeks.” Revaramek licked his muzzle. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any of those buckets, left? I could use another ale to help my nerves.”

“Certainly, Rev.” Mirelle retrieved the same bucket she gave Revaramek earlier. She washed it out, and filled it with a fresh pour of strong, golden ale. Then she carried it back and set it before the dragon. “Let me get mine before you take a drink. I’ve got a toast to make.”

“Very well.” Revaramek sniffed at the drink, savoring it’s slightly spicy, slightly bittersweet aroma. “Shall I clank my bucket into your-”

“Please don’t,” Mirelle said, collecting her own mug. “Knowing you, you’d smash your drink into mine, and break my arm.”

“Nonsense, Mirelle, I’d do no such thing.” Revaramek tossed his head. “I’d break your hand, at worst.”

Mirelle joined him again, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, that’s much better. Just hold your drink up, and I’ll do the honors. It’s short, anyway.”

“Very well.” Revaramek carefully lifted up his bucket. Golden liquid and pale foam sloshed about inside as he held it towards Mirelle. “Ready when you are.”

Mirelle held up her mug. “To love…” With her free hand, she waved at Nyramyn. Then she turned towards Revaramek, placing a hand over her head. “And to friendship…” She bowed her head towards him, and then turned back towards Nyra. “And to good health, and better days to come.” She bumped her cup against Revaramek’s, and then took a drink.

A smile crept across Revaramek’s muzzle. His throat tightened, ever so slightly. Mirelle’s words, though briefly, contained a meaningfulness that warmed him deep inside. “To love, friendship, good health, and better days ahead.” Revaramek drank some ale, and set it back down. Then he curled a foreleg around Mirelle, and hugged her to his chest, careful not to spill her drink. “Thank you, Mirelle. For all of this.”

“Of course, Rev. It’s the least I could do.” She hugged him back best she could with a single arm. “And thank you for being gentle enough to avoid spilling my beer all over the place.”

Revaramek released her, still grinning. “You see, Mirelle? You’re not the only one who can grow into a better person.”

Mirelle blinked at him a few times. “I don’t even know where to begin unpacking that one, so…” She took another drink. “I’m just going to ignore it.” She looked past him, watching Nyramyn sleep. “She looks awfully peaceful, doesn’t she?”

“That she does.” Revaramek’s ears drooped. “I hope she doesn’t hurt too badly, when she wakes.”

“She’ll be alright, Rev.” Mirelle rubbed his shoulder. “I know she will, because she’ll have you here to take care of her.”

Revaramek managed to smile again, nodding. “That she will.”

The two of them passed the time with drink and idle chatter while awaiting Nyramyn’s return to consciousness. When their vessels were empty, Mirelle got each of them a refill. The healers kept a close eye on Nyra, but did not encroach upon the dragons. Between the alcohol and the companionship, the rawness of Revaramek’s nerves slowly eased. By the time Nyramyn stirred, ever so faintly, Revaramek was as close to relaxed as he’d been all day.

Nyramyn murmured, her eyelids twitching. She lifted her head slightly, then lowered it again. Revaramek gently stroked her neck, keeping his wing across her like a comforting blanket. He lowered his head to give her ear a lick, then whispered soft reassurances. After a few moments, Nyra’s eyes opened to bleary slits. She lifted her head to look at Revaramek, then blinked a few times, struggling to focus on him.

“You…” Her voice was hoarse.

“Yes, love?” Revaramek licked her nose.

Nyra scrunched her muzzle. “You…look funny.” Her words were slightly slurred. She lowered her head back down, staring at his underbelly. “And your balls look funny, too.” A fit of giggles overtook her, her wings shaking. “I should start callin’ you, funny balls.”

Revaramek snorted, glancing between Nyra and Mirelle. “Is she alright?”

Mirelle gave him a blank look. “Rev, I’ve no idea what she said. But if it was something strange, I’m sure it’s just the aftereffects of the medication.”

“She said she should start calling me Funny Balls, because my balls look funny!” Revaramek glanced between the two of them a few times, then froze. “I…really shouldn’t have translated that for you, should I.”

Mirelle only smiled a wicked smile. “She seems fine to me, Funny Balls.” She took a slow drink. “They did say she was going to be out of it.”

“True enough.” Revaramek looked over at the healers, watching from nearby. The fact they did not seem at all alarmed put him at ease. He stroked Nyra’s neck again. “How’re you feeling, love?”

“Strange.” Nyra arched her neck into his touch. “Like…my brain is somewhere else, and I can’t find it. Or…I drank too much swamp water. Or…my brain drank too much swamp water?” She turned her head a little, looking back at the gauzy bandages affixed to her body. “How did…?”

“It went very well, Nyra.” Revaramek eased his wing back to give her a clearer view of herself. “They said you handled it with…” He trailed off. “Actually, I’m not sure there’s a direct translation for the word…” Revaramek shifted into the common tongue. “Aplomb.”

Mirelle stared at him. “Are you already telling her that stupid joke?”

Revaramek tossed his head. “I don’t know how to translate it.” He returned to the swamp dragon language. “The healers told me you did very well, and had no problems. They expect you to heal up cleanly, but we’ll have to change your dressing twice a day. They’re going to show me how to do it later, so-”

“Am I peeing?” Nyra shifted herself, slightly lifting a hind leg. She peered at her belly. “I feel like I’m peeing.”

Revaramek followed her gaze, resisting the urge to scramble away. “Not at the moment, love, but perhaps we should get you outside.”

“Yes!” Nyra lowered her hind leg. “Outside! Because I think I have to pee…”

“I guessed as much, love.” Revaramek pushed himself up to all fours. He held a paw out to her. “Take my paw for support if you-”

“I’m not peeing already, am I?” Nyra looked back at herself again. Then she gave a little gasp. “Have I already peed? I can’t tell!” She stretched out a hind leg, shaking it. “I feel funny.”

Revaramek rested his paw across her foreleg. “No, Nyra, you haven’t. Let’s go outside before you do. Why don’t you try sitting up, first? They said you’re going to be wobbly, so move slowly.”

“Alright.” Nyramyn gathered her forelegs beneath herself, then pushed her chest up into the air. “Am I doing it?”

Revaramek chuckled. “You’re halfway there, love.” He gently tapped his webbed tail against her haunches. “Now get your back legs under yourself, and sit up slowly.”

“My back legs…” Nyra turned her head, staring at her hind limbs as if willing them to move. “Under myself.” Ever so slowly, she pulled her back feet closer, and gradually sat up onto her haunches. Then she turned towards Revaramek, a beaming smile parting her muzzle. “I’ve done it!”

“You certainly have, love.” Revaramek glanced over at Mirelle, who was watching calmly. “I’m trying to get her up and outside. She thinks she has to pee, but…she can’t tell.”

Mirelle arched a brow. “Yes, let’s get her out of the bar, then.”

“I’m trying Mirelle, but she’s not all there, right now.”

Mirelle sipped her beer, chuckling. “So I noticed. Poor thing looks like she’s drunk.”

Nyramyn swayed back and forth on her haunches a few times. Each movement tipped her a little further to the side until Revaramek extended his wing, and curled it around her. Even that light pressure was almost too much, and she ended up half toppling over until she was leaning against him. Then she gave a soft, musical laugh, and nuzzled at Revaramek’s neck. She rested her head against him, her eyes drifting closed.

“Yes, Nyra, it’s nice to be with you, but it’s not time to go back to sleep.” Revaramek gave her the softest nudge he could manage, pushing her into an upright position on her haunches. “Sit up, love.”

Nyramyn did her best, wobbling a little more. “How’s that?”

“Very good.” Revaramek moved closer, holding his wing around her to help steady her against his body. “There you go. When you’re ready…try and stand up. Move slowly, and lean against me if you need to.”

“Alright.” Nyramyn tried to rise, but only made it halfway before she dropped back onto her haunches. She curled her neck to snap her teeth at her own rear legs. “No, I said stand, not sit! Stand!” Nyra tried again, and this time, made it all the way up onto all four paws. “There! I’ve done that, too!” Almost immediately, she started tilting sideways again.

Revaramek quickly braced himself against her, shoring her up. “You’re alright, you’re alright. Just get your balance.”

“I’ve got my balance!” She nipped at his neck. “See? I’m not even falling.”

“Yes, my dear,” Revaramek said, chuckling. “You’re doing very well. When you’re ready, let’s try turning towards the doors, alright?”

“Alright.” With Revaramek’s support, Nyra gradually turned a half circle until she was facing the rare entrance. She stared at the wide open doors. “Is that where we’re going? It looks awfully far away.”

“It’s not that far, Nyra, you’ll be just-”

“It must be at least a hundred thousand wingbeats from here.” Nyra lowered her voice to a whisper. “If I fall, you’re going to have to carry me.”

Revaramek laughed again. “You know, I can’t tell how much of this is the medication, and how much is your natural desire to tease me.”

Nyra nipped at his scales again. “A little from the swamp, a little from the cave.”

“I don’t think that’s a saying. Nonetheless…” He took a slow step forward at her side, watching closely as she did the same. “I shall support you every moment, and yes, even carry you on my back, if I must.”

“Me, on your back?” Nyra gave him a funny look, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think it works that way. You have to be on my back for it to reach my-”

“Not talking about that Nyra,” Revaramek said, taking another slow step with her. “Just talking about carrying you.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” Nyra managed another several paces, then paused when her legs grew too wobbly. “I thought you meant the other thing! Which…” She scrunched her muzzle. “I don’t think we can do, until my stomach stops hurting.” Then she gasped, her ears and frills shooting up. “Revaramek! Why does my stomach hurt?”

Revaramek nosed at her ear, then pointed towards the bandages along her underbelly. “Because you’ve just had surgery. Remember?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She peered under herself, then looked at each of her four paws in turn. “I probably shouldn’t be on my feet, yet.”

“We’re just going outside, love.” Revaramek pointed the talon tipping his other wing at the Cathedral’s back doors. “And we’re almost there. You can lay back down once we’re on the grass.”

“It does look slightly less far away.” Nyra glared at her legs as if issuing silent instructions, then took another wobbling step forward. After that, her stride picked up speed as if momentum was taking over, forcing Revaramek to do the same. “Look how fast I’m going!”

“Yes, Nyra, you’re a real championship sprinter.” Revaramek kept his wing tightly wrapped around her to help keep her balanced. “Careful not to trip over anything.”

Even as Nyra hurried forward, she gazed around, wide-eyed, as if neither her head nor her legs knew what the other was doing. “We’re moving so swiftly the world is but a blur!”

“I suspect that’s the medication,” Revaramek said, laughing. He watched the ground as they approached the rear entryway. “Careful, Nyra, there’s a little stoop here.”

Nyra scrunched her muzzle, coming to a sudden stop. “You took a little poop here? Mirelle’s not going to like that.”

Revaramek flashed her a grin, trying not to laugh. “Now you sound like the Tea Kettle! You have to be doing that on purpose. I’m also shocked that those words sound so alike in our language. Anyway, watch your feet, here.”

Nyramyn tilted her head down, carefully stepping across the doorframe, and out onto the patio. She squinted against the sunlight, pinning back her frills. “It’s too bright out here. Are we getting closer to the sun?”

“I certainly hope not!” Revaramek guided her across the patio, one step at a time. “Though I suppose if our sphere is about to drift into the sun, we’ll have a lot fewer problems to worry about. Careful of the steps here, Nyra. Take them one at a time.”

The dragons descended the steps onto the grassy expanse, with Revaramek keeping close watch over Nyramyn’s movements. Once they were off the patio, Revaramek led her away from The Cathedral, and towards a large patch of shade nearby, beneath the line of pine trees. A large assortment of blankets and cushions were already spread out across the ground, placed there by the healers while Nyra was still asleep. Revaramek helped Nyra reach them, and then supported her as she eased herself to the ground. Once she was laid down, he settled down next to her.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Revaramek licked her neck.

Nyra jerked her head up. “I have to pee!”

“Of course you do.” Revaramek stood right back up. “Alright then. Get up slowly. First onto your haunches, then stand. I’ll support you.” He glanced back at Mirelle. “Any preference for where Nyra goes to…you know?”

Mirelle waved towards The Cathedral. “Well, I’ve just had the privies renovated.”

Revaramek lashed his tail. “I rather doubt she’s going to fit in there, Mirelle!”

Mirelle just rolled her eyes. “Just take her somewhere beyond the trees. She’ll be out of view, back there.”

“Very well.”

Revaramek helped Nyra to her feet, and then walked with her through the gap in the trees to a place she could relieve herself. Then he helped keep her steady, and when she was finished, walked her back to the blankets and cushions. Once again, they both eased down onto the bedding. Revaramek stretched a wing across her, draping it over her back as she got comfortable.

“Here, Nyra.” Revaramek moved a few pillows in front of her. “Rest your head on these.”

“Very well.” Nyra laid her head down against one of the cushions, only to gasp and lift it again. “Revaramek!”

“Yes, Nyra?”

She glanced back at herself, her ears splayed. “Why does my stomach hurt?”

“The surgery, Nyra.” Revaramek gave a half-hearted wave towards her bandage again. “Why don’t you try and get some more rest?”

Mirelle gathered a cushion for herself, and sat down on it, sipping her ale. “How’s she doing?”

“As well as can be expected, I think.” Revaramek stroked Nyra’s foreleg as she lay her head down. “She’s already asked me several times why she’s in pain. And, she was quite impressed with her own ability to sit up, and move her limbs.” He licked his nose, rumbling. “I have a sneaking suspicion she won’t even remember walking out here, tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Mirelle set her mug nearby, in the grass. “Do you think we should have the gryphons watch Korakos another night?”

The dragon shrugged his wings. “I’m not sure. I think it will be alright for him to join us, as planned. I’ll make sure he knows the medicine may cause her to act funny, or sleep all evening.” He glanced at Nyra. Already, she was struggling to keep her eyes open again. “Probably the second one.”

Mirelle leaned back onto her hands. “Gods know she deserves the rest, even before today’s events.”

“That she does.” Revaramek stroked her foreleg again, turning his attention back to her. “Go to sleep, Nyra. Get some rest.”

Nyramyn murmured, but did not otherwise reply. Before long, she’d drifted off to sleep again, her breathing slow and measured. Revaramek took the opportunity to examine her bandage again. They had affixed it to her scales with sticky resin, and so far, it showed no sign of coming loose. Nor did it appear at all discolored. Satisfied, he eased a little closer to her, wing draped over her back.

“How’s it look?” Mirelle leaned over, trying to see around Revaramek.

“Quite good, so far.” Revaramek scratched his neck with his wing tip. “I was a little worried when she surged ahead, near the door, but doesn’t look like she’s pulled anything.”

Mirelle smiled. “She’ll be fine, Revaramek. Those stitches are harder to pull out than you think.” Her face darkened, if only for a moment. “You should have seen the poor birds, after the battle for the town. I swear, Kurekka was more stitches than feathers for a month, or so.”

A smile broke through Revaramek’s worried expression. “I’d say that would have an improvement for that ugly old rooster!”

Mirelle laughed at that, shaking her head. “I’ll tell him you said that. The point I was going to make is that if he could avoid pulling out his own stitches, I’m sure Nyra won’t have any trouble.”

Revaramek nodded once. He stared down at his paws, idly kneading the blankets upon which he lay. “Korakos likes them.” He flicked his tail. “The birds, I mean.”

“Good!” Mirelle picked her mug back up, but did not yet take a drink. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t. They’re a lovely couple. And from what I’ve seen, they dote on your little bundle of scales as if he was their son.”

“Yes,” Revaramek said, smoothing down the bedding he’d ruffled up. “They absolutely do. I know they’ll take excellent care of him while the three of us are gone.”

Mirelle worked her mug back and forth in her hands. “Does he know, yet?”

Sorrow gripped Revaramek’s heart. He slowly shook his head, pain filling his belly in an anxious flood. The dragon opened his muzzle to reply, but the words caught in his throat. He worked his jaws without sound, managing only to give his head a single, slow shake. Revaramek swallowed, fighting a sudden lump in his throat. How, he wondered, could he possibly tell poor Korakos that his family was leaving again?

Mirelle set her drink aside, then scooted closer to set her hand atop Revaramek’s paw. “I know, Rev. I know. It’ll be alright.”

Revaramek sniffled, fighting to force words through his suddenly constricted throat. “I don’t know how how to tell him, Mirelle. He’s…” The dragon whimpered. “He’s already been through so much! How can I possibly tell him, that I’m leaving him behind again?” He stroked Nyra’s foreleg with a trembling paw. “That we’re leaving him?”

“I don’t know, Rev.” Mirelle gently hooked her fingers under Revaramek’s much larger paw, lifting it. Then she cradled it in both hands, softly squeezing. “But I do know you’ll find a way. And I’ll be there to help support you, if you need me.”

Revaramek managed a smile. “Thank you.” He took a shaking breath, watching Nyra sleep. “It will have to come from both of us. But we can’t tell him while Nyra’s only half here. We’ll have to wait at least a few days, when she’s back to her senses.” He whimpered again, his belly cold and taut. “It’s just, he waited damn near his whole life to see me, you know. Hoping and dreaming, telling himself stories about me. Wishing to see his mother happy, again. And when he saw me? He was so filled with joy! As if his tiny life was finally complete. And…” Tears spilled down Revaramek’s muzzle. “And now I have to take that away from him! He thinks he’ll never be alone anymore, yet here I am, about to leave him behind all over again.”

Mirelle squeezed his paw tighter. “He’ll understand. It’ll hurt, but-”

“It’s going to break his poor little heart!” An anguished sob twisted Revaramek’s voice. He struggled to keep his tears quiet, not wanting to wake Nyra. “How can I put him through that again? I don’t even know how to find the strength to tell him, let alone where to begin. Or how to comfort him, when he realizes we’re leaving him here.”

“Revaramek.” Mirelle spoke his name like an oath, softly but with great conviction. “You have never in your life shirked from a challenge.” She released his paw, and moved to kneel alongside him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. “And I know you won’t falter in this one, either. Because you’re Revaramek the Gods-damned Resplendent.”

A tiny smile fought its way through his tears. “Mirelle, I-”

“Aren’t you?”

The dragon nodded. “Of course, I am.”

“Exactly.” Mirelle rubbed his scales, her voice like iron. “Of course, you damn well are. And I know Revaramek the Gods-Damned Resplendent will do whatever he has to do.” Her tone softened, slightly. “Even this. But it won’t be like before, Rev. You and Nyra aren’t just going to vanish. You’re going to talk to him about it, before you go. He’s going to know why you’re leaving, where you’re going, and he’s going to know you’re coming back. Both of you.” Mirelle tilted her head back, staring up into Revaramek’s eyes. “Yes, Rev. It will break his heart. But I promise you, he has the strength to endure it, and emerge all the stronger.” She reached up, and gently cupped the dragon’s chin. “I know this, because I know who his father is.”

Revaramek smiled, then gently bumped his muzzle against Mirelle’s head. “Thank you, Mirelle.”

Mirelle patted his jaws. “Of course, Rev.” She rose to her feet, and hugged his head tight. “It’s true, too. For all your bluster and bravado, you may well have the kindest, strongest soul I know. And it’s probably the best thing your son could have possibly inherited from you. I promise you, he’ll be just fine, Rev.”

“I hope you’re right.” Revaramek returned her hug, gently rubbing Mirelle’s back. “We’ll find a way to tell him, as soon as Nyra’s ready. We’ll let him rage and cry, and suffer together his anger and his tears. Then we’ll all have a few weeks to heal, and prepare for the anguish for parting ways again.” He shifted his gaze, staring at the large, lingering patch of sand in the midst of Mirelle’s back garden. The breeze swirled across it, spinning loose sand into little shapes. “And then we’ll go into that gods-damned desert, and find a way to save Nyra.”

Atop the little patch of gold, the whirling sands danced.