Revaramek the Resplendent - Missing Chapter G (Patreon)

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Chapter G

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Revaramek watched dawn’s purple bruise gradually give way to growing fire across the sky. Unlike Korakos, the older dragon found slumber’s embrace elusive. His racing mind refused to give into the fatigue that smothered him like a warm blanket. Now and then he blinked, and in those moments of darkness there were fitful, restless dreams. But deeper sleep refused him, leaving Revaramek wondering if he had truly slept at all. Perhaps, he mused, he had slept, and all the night’s events were merely another slumbering reverie.

A quick glance around confirmed he was not so lucky. A scattering of dead fireflies still littered the blankets spread across the grass. He’d tried to brush them aside, but there were just so many of them it was all too easy to miss some in the darkness. Yet now that seemed but a whimsical fairy tale compared to their unnerving visitor. Two figurines of sand, an urd’thin pup and a dragon hatching, now stood watching them from beneath one of the nearby trees. Revaramek had moved them there overnight, but he could he sworn he’d turned them the other way.

Nyramyn stirred beneath his outstretched wing. Revaramek turned his attention to his mate. She lay on her side, in the much the same position she’d slept most of the night. Korakos was curled within her forelegs, where he’d moved after Revaramek got up to reposition the figurines. The little hatchling blinked awake, then stretched his front legs, tiny forepaws splayed. A yawn split his muzzle, his little tongue curled inside. As he stood and shook himself, Nyramyn’s eyes opened to bleary slits.

Revaramek stretched his neck to lick her nose. “Morning, love.”

“Is it?” Nyramyn returned his affection, squinting against the encroaching sunlight. “I thought I’d only just fallen asleep.”

Revaramek couldn’t help laughing, brushing his wing across her back. “No, Nyra. You’ve slept from dusk till dawn. In fact, you slept quite soundly.” He waggled a forepaw towards the empty medicine bowls nearby. “Whatever that stuff was, I shall like to take some myself tonight. I’m fairly certain Korakos could have used your head for a scratching post and you still wouldn’t have woken.”

Nyra chuckled, licking her nose. “I suppose that’s why they gave it to me.” She flattened her ears. “I think I need to pee now. Will you help me walk over there?”

“Certainly, love.” Revaramek with drew his wing, and pushed to his feet.

“Thank you.” Nyra nosed at Korakos. “Watch out, little one, momma needs to stand.”

Korakos give her muzzle a few licks, then backed away to give her room. When he caught sight of the figurines nearby, he gasped and bounced on his paws. “Momma! Momma!” He bounced again. “A sand thing came!”

Nyramyn slowly pushed herself to her feet, wobbling a little bit. “A what now?”

Revaramek grit his teeth, tail tip flicking. “Kor, why don’t you let me-”

“A sand thing!” Korakos spun around in an excited circle. “Like the furry thing, but different, and made of sand! And he was scary, but father protected us, and the sand thing gave me new toys, and then he turned into sand and floated away!”

Nyramyn laughed softly. “That certainly sounds like an exciting story you’ve come up with, this time.”

“Uh huh!” Korakos spun again. “And there were glowbugs, and the stars were singing, and father sang too, and I did magic, and I helped you heal!”

“My, little one, your dreams must have been far more exciting than mine.” Nyra slowly turned around. “Mind my tail, Kor, I don’t want to knock you over if I lose my balance. Rev, will you…” She trailed off, peering down at the blankets. “Why are there dead bugs everywhere?”

Revaramek pinned back his frills. “Suffice it to say, my dear, that a lot happened while you were asleep.”

“Something to do with glowbugs?” Nyra took a few unsteady steps, looking around at all the dead insects.

“The local ones are called fireflies, Nyra, and-”

“Where did those come from?” Her gaze stopped on the sand figurines. “Did Mirelle bring those for Korakos?”

Revaramek swallowed, unsure how exactly to broach the subject. “No, Nyra. She did not. Let’s get you taken care of, first.” He moved to brace himself against her, then glanced back at Korakos. “Don’t play with those little statues, Kor.” He took a few steps at Nyra’s side, then looked back again when he heard Korakos scurrying through the grass in the opposite direction. “And stay out of that sand!”

Korakos to a stop, whining. “But I wanna play in it!”

“No, Kor, stay out of it.”

Nyra gave him a confused look, her ears splayed. “But he likes the sand.”

Revaramek lashed his tail, his jaw clenched. “I don’t think we should let him play in it, anymore. I’ll explain why in a bit. One thing at a time first.”

“Oh, very well.” Nyra flattened her ears, but did not otherwise push the subject. She hobbled towards the gap in the tree line, leaning against Revaramek. “You know, I don’t feel quite as sore as I expected.”

Revaramek looked away, flicking his tail. “That’s good to hear, love.”

As they passed between the pine trees, Revaramek looked towards Mirelle’s house. A few of her windows were open to allow fresh air in, but he saw no movement beyond them yet. Knowing Mirelle she’d be up before long, and he’d have to fill her in on the nights events, too. Perhaps, Revaramek thought, it would be easiest to sit them both down together. He’d still have to translate, but at least he could get it all over with in one fell swoop.

After Nyra had relieved herself, Revaramek helped her back to her blankets. She settled down on her side, then looked around, licking her muzzle. “Do you think you could find me some water? I’m ever so thirsty.”

“Certainly, love.” Revaramek licked her head, just between her ears. “Keep an eye on Korakos, will you? Please don’t let him go near that sand right now.”

Nyramyn huffed, thumping her tail against the blanket covered ground. “You had better tell me what that’s about before-”

“Can’t hear you love, busy doting on you and fetching your water!” Revaramek turned away, heading for The Cathedral’s rear entrance.

As promised, Mirelle had left the doors unlocked for him. In addition to being large enough to allow dragons and gryphons to easily pass through, the Cathedral’s main front and rear doorways had two sets of handles. One was sized for humans and smaller creatures, while the other was larger, and sturdier. Just the same, Revaramek carefully depressed the larger handles, then pushed the doors in as gently as he could. The dragon was fairly certain Mirelle would have his balls in a display case if he damaged her tavern again.

To Revaramek’s surprise, The Cathedral’s interior was already illuminated for the day. Lamps and glass light fixtures were aglow with flicking flames, casting the tavern’s great hall in a warm orange glow. Delightful smells emanated from the kitchen, a mixture of sizzling meats and baking breads. Binir, the elder human healer, stood alongside a table, sorting another batch of herbs and other medicines. While the other healers were not yet present, a familiar, green-scaled Vachaak dressed in golden clothing stood across the table, assisting her.

“Oh, hello Tavaat!” Revaramek padded towards the table. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Didn’t Mirelle give you time off from tending the bar while the tavern is closed?”

The lizard glanced up, snorting. “You know damn well I haven’t worked in the tavern in years.” He jerked his thumb towards the kitchen. “But the old bag said we gotta come help some loud-mouthed dragon take care of his sick girlfriend.”

Revaramek cackled. “Did she now? Well, don’t let Beka hear you call her an old bag, or she’ll put her knee into your old bag.”

Binir glanced up at the va’chaak, the hint of a smirk on her lips. “Don’t expect me to tend that injury.”

Revaramek rumbled his amusement, bowing his head to the older human. “Good morning, Binir. Didn’t expect to see you back so early, either.”

“I’m always up with the dawn.” She set a bowl filled with greenish paste aside, then gathered up a pile of reddish leaves. “Thought I might as well come and check on Nyra’s progress, and get her next day’s worth of medications prepared.” She looked up at him, pausing her work. “How’s she doing? Did she rest well? Any problems?”

That was a hell of a loaded question, Revaramek thought. But the dragon saw no sense in telling the healer, or his other friends, the specifics of the night’s events. At least, not yet. “The sleeping medication worked a treat. She slept as soundly as that drunken urd’thin who keeps passing out on the tavern floor!”

Tavaat grunted, cleaning out a mortar and pestle with soapy water. “We really oughta just get him a cot.”

“That you should,” Revaramek said. “Nyra slept soundly from sunset to sunrise, and today she’s not as sore as she expected. I haven’t changed her dressing yet this morning, but last night her wound looked nice and clean.”

“Excellent.” Binir took the freshly washed utensils from Tavaat, piling the leaves into the mortar. She passed him a bundle of greenish twigs with clusters of tiny blue and yellow flowers. “Separate the flowers, if you would please.” Binir glanced up at the dragon. “You’ll want to continue changing the dressing twice daily, for now. If it’s still clean, and showing no signs of redness or drainage today, I shan’t bother her to inspect it myself. However, if it is, let me know immediately.”

Somehow, Revaramek doubted that was going to be a problem. “I’ll tell you right away.” While the two worked, Revaramek inspected Tavaat’s clothing. The lizard’s shirt and trousers were both a vibrant golden color, hemmed in black, with more black stitching in intricate patterns along the seams. They paired well with the dark green color of his scales, matching some of the gold and bronze marks he bore here and there. “You’re looking fancy, Councilman. Is the Council meeting today, or are you just trying to impress Beka?”

“Neither.” Tavaat shrugged, carefully slicing away batches of flowers. “Beka knows a tailor who made it for me. And…well, it was for Council meetings, but I like it! So I’ll wear it whenever the hell I want.” The lizard clicked his tail, tail tip flicking.

“So you shall, Tavaat!” Revaramek turned his head towards the kitchen doors, sniffing at the air. The scents of food had intensified, allowing him to pick out the smells of savory sausages and fatty ham being cooked nearby. His belly rumbled ominously, and he lifted his voice. “Say, Beka, is that you in there, my dear friend? You know you’ve always been my favorite human, right? Don’t tell Mirelle, or Enora, but-”

“Oh, I’m absolutely going to tell Mirelle!” Beka emerged from the kitchen doors, waggling a greasy spatula. Fresh food stains splattered the cream-hued apron that guarded her sky-blue blouse. She’d tied her hair back behind her head. “But you don’t need to sweet talk me, Dragon. I’m already making food for your mate and your child.” She gestured with her spatula at Binir. “She told me your Nyra can’t eat that much, just yet, so hopefully I’m making her enough food. This kitchen’s not exactly sized to accommodate dragons.”

“I’m sure it will be plenty…” Revaramek trailed off, then advanced towards her, tail lashing. “Wait, what about me? I should hope you’re making my breakfast too.”

Beka rolled her eyes. “Why should I make you anything? You’ve got wings, use them! Go hunt yourself some pygmy goats, or something.”

Revaramek narrowed his eyes, frills lifted. “You know damn well I’m not allowed to hunt pygmy goats anymore. Besides, you made that entire feast for everyone in that kitchen, so I know there’s plenty of room.”

“First,” Beka said, waving the spatula at his nose. “That took an entire army of cooks and assistants. Second, it also took all day long.” She spun around, her ponytail flipping over a shoulder. “But yes, dragon, I’m making food for you too.”

Beka vanished back through the kitchen doors, and Revaramek followed her as far as he could. He stretched his neck, and pushed his head through the door, peering into the kitchen. Long lines of pots and pans of all shapes and sizes hung from hooks. Spices of all kinds filled countless racks. A row of great stone hearths occupied an entire wall, with fires blazing in some and smoldering coals in others. Kettles perched above other fires, with grills and spits above yet more. Several of the largest pans Revaramek had ever seen were filled to the brim with sizzling sausages and other meats. Another held a mixture of potatoes, onions, and peppers, with a block of cheese nearby. Countless eggs waited in several baskets. A few large, smoked fish sat within another pan, waiting to be placed above a fire. Beka scurried to and fro, somehow managing everything all at once.

“Dear Gods, Beka!” Revaramek cocked his head. “You’re doing the work of an entire army of cooks back here. You should really talk to Mirelle about hiring you an assistant. I know she’s a real cheapskate, but I’d you’ve earned the help at this point.”

Beka rolled her eyes, swiftly flipping an entire pig’s worth of bacon rashers. “Hilarious, dragon. Tavaat was supposed to be assisting me, but as you could see, he’s been drafted to help Binir instead.” She moved from the bacon to the sausages, swiftly turning them. The other sides were nicely browned. “That’s alright, though. It just means I have an excuse to make him do all the cleaning.” She glanced over her shoulder. “How’s your mate doing? I don’t want to bother her while she’s recovering, but Tavaat and I did want to do what we can to help.”

“That’s quite appreciated, thank you.” Revaramek offered her a thankful smile. “And she’s doing as well as can be expected. Speaking of which, I’m supposed to be bringing her some water. Has the barrel been filled, or shall I go to the well?”

Beka pointed her spatula back towards the main hall. “There’s fresh drinking water in barrel as of few hours ago. I made Tavaat fill it while I started prepping for breakfast.”

“You’ve been here that long?”

“It’s not that much earlier than on days when The Cathedral is open for breakfast service, anyway.” She picked up a large wooden spoon, swiftly stirring the mixture of potatoes and other vegetables. “We thought about coming out to say good morning, but we didn’t want to wake you, or startle Nyra.”

“That’s kind of you.” Revaramek licked his muzzle, struggling to keep from drooling at the ever-growing intensity of tantalizing scents. “Afraid I was already awake, though. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Beka exchanged her spoon and spatula for a large grater. She set about shredding the block of cheese with aggressive precision, then paused a few moments later. “Dragons can eat cheese, right?”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “It’s never bothered me. Perhaps don’t put too much in. It’s not something Nyra and Korakos are especially used to, just yet. Nyra probably doesn’t need to get the shits on top of recovering from surgery.”

Beka scrunched her face. “Yes, a dragon with the shits, just what I wanted to think about while cooking breakfast.” She went back to shredding the cheese. “Tell you what, I’ll add cheese to half of it. I’m going to scramble most of the eggs, and add some onion and pepper to that, as well. The rest of them I’ll soft fry, and put them on top of the potatoes so the yolk runs down into everything.”

Revaramek groaned. “Oh, Beka, what are you trying to do, lure me away from Nyra?” He snorted, faking a glare at her. “Well, I shall not be so easily enraptured, foul temptress!” Revaramek made a show of tossing his head in disdain, only to bang it against the doorframe. “Ow!” The wood creaked ominously. “My head!”

Beka smirked at him. “Perhaps you’d best just fetch the water before you accidentally bring this place down around us.”

“Perhaps so.” Revaramek withdrew his head from the door, then rubbed it with a forepaw.

Binir watched him from the nearby table, a brow raised. “Everything alright, Dragon?”

“Only a fractured skull.” He rubbed his head beneath the stump of a horn. “I’ll survive, somehow.”

Tavaat grunted. “He tends to break things. You’ll get used to it.”

“I shall hope I don’t have to.” She waved at the dragon. “Aren’t you supposed to be bringing your mate water?”

“I’m working on it!” Revaramek winced, still rubbing his head. When the worst of the ache had passed, he set his paw back down. “Tavaat, do you know where Mirelle keeps her drinking buckets?”

“Yeah.” Tavaat counted off a few more flower clusters, then passed them to Binir. “I’ll fetch a couple.” The lizard went around behind the counter, rummaging around. Something clattered, something else clanged, and soon enough he returned carrying two large, empty buckets. “Actually, I dunno where the fancy buckets are right now. Regular buckets good enough?”

Revaramek took a deep breath, only to heave the longest, most put upon sigh he could manage. “You want my mate to drink from an actual bucket? Why don’t I just show her to the local horse trough? I’m sure the added flavors of equine drool will really perk her right up!”

Binir shot the dragon a glare. “I’m sure they’re clean, dragon. Just bring her some water so she can take her medications soon.”

Revaramek tossed his head, playfully snarling. “Fine! But mark the words of your benevolent overlord! I shall remember the day the two of you turned against me, and forced my precious mate to drink water from an ordinary bucket like some worn out pack mule!”

The dragon took the bucket handles in his jaws, carrying them to the drinking water barrel. He filled one first, and then drank it down to quench his own thirst. Then he filled them both anew, sloshing water across the floor. As he carried them outside, more water spilled across the floorboards. Tavaat cursed behind him. Revaramek snorted, flicking his tail tip. As far as he was concerned, mopping the floor was to be Tavaat’s penance for forcing poor Nyra to drink from a common bucket.

Outside, Revaramek spotted Mirelle standing near Nyra. Despite their inability to understand each other, they were carrying something resembling a conversation. Mirelle was talking and gesturing, and then Nyra did the same. Korakos ran in little circles around Mirelle’s feet, then suddenly pounce on one of her leather boots. He snatched the bootlace in his jaws, and took off running around. When the lace caught, the sudden stop nearly jerked the little hatchling off his feet. Both Mirelle and Nyra laughed, watching as Korakos stared at the stretched out lace in confusion.

Revaramek carried the water to his mate, then gently set both buckets down. “Here you are my dear, the freshest of water for the most beautiful of dragons.” Before she could reply, he waved at the buckets, switching into the common tongue. “Look at this horribly common drinking vessel, Mirelle! Can you believe Tavaat is forcing my poor mate to drink out of some everyday slop bucket?”

Mirelle chuckled, crossing her arms. “That’s not a slop bucket, Rev. It’s literallyfor carrying water. It’s-”

“Exactly!” Revaramek tossed his head. “My lovely Nyra should be gracefully sipping from an elegant chalice made for drinking, not carrying! She isn’t a slobbering peasant’s donkey, ready to plunge her snout into the trough!” Nyramyn shoved her muzzle into the bucket, drinking deep. A variety of loud, slurping noises emanated from it. Revaramek glanced over at her, then back at Mirelle. “Well, not normally, anyway. The point is, you should give Tavaat a pay cut for his terrible service, and insulting choice of drinkware.”

Mirelle only rolled her eyes. “Tavaat’s a councilman, Rev. We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, he is!” Revaramek pointed a wing tip at her. “And you’re the Head Councilwoman. Therefor, you control the Council’s pay scale. Therefor again, pay cut!”

Mirelle shook her head, laughing. “I’m not docking Tavaat’s pay just because he gave you a regular bucket for your water.” She pursed her lips. “What’s he even doing here, anyway?”

“Forcing Nyra to drink from a filthy wash-bucket, that’s what!” Revaramek stomped a forepaw, but when Mirelle just stared at him, he relented. “Apparently, he was supposed to be helping Beka make breakfast for everyone. But, Binir’s here as well, and she’s recruited him to help prepare Nyra’s medications for the day, instead.”

Mirelle’s eyes widened. “Beka’s cooking breakfast for everyone by herself?” She ran a hand through her hair. “I should probably go help her out.”

“Yes, I think she’d greatly appreciate that.” The dragon licked his nose, glancing down at his son. Korakos had taken to pacing back and forth, staring at Mirelle’s boot lace as if it were a serpent he sought to intimidate. “Perhaps you could take Kor, with you. I…” He trailed off, turning his eyes to Nyra. She’d finished her bucket of water, and was now helping herself to the second one. “I need to talk to Nyra about something without him interjecting. And then I’ll need to tell you the same things.”

Mirelle’s face darkened. She nudged a dead firefly with her boot, and then turned to stare at the sand figurines. “I noticed those. The furry little shit finally showed up, huh?”

Revaramek clenched his jaw, his heart thumping. “No. No, this was…” He growled to himself, struggling to explain it. “Something else.”

Mirelle’s brows raised as she turned back towards him. “Is that good news, or bad news?”

“I’m not sure yet.” He scooped Korakos up into his forelegs, switching into the swamp dragon language. “Kor, I need to talk to your mother alone for a little while. Why don’t you go with Mirelle into the tavern?” He gave Nyra another glance to make sure she didn’t mind. She nodded her agreement between gulps of water, and Revaramek returned his attention to Korakos. “Mirelle will get you some snacks. You can look around in there, but stay where she can see you. And you behave yourself. If Mirelle calls your name, you come to her and sit down quietly right away.”

Korakos wriggled a little. “But I-”

“Do as you’re told, little one.” Revaramek gave him a lick. “Alright?”

Korakos nodded. “Okay, Father.”

“Good boy.” Revaramek passed the wriggling hatchling to Mirelle, switching back to her words. “Here, take Korakos with you. He should behave himself, but if you say his name sharply, he’ll come and sit at your feet. You can give some treats from the kitchen, that should make him happy.”

Mirelle grunted as she took hold of the hatchling. She shifted him around so he could put his forepaws over her shoulders, and rest his haunches against her forearms. “You’re heavier than you look, little guy. Come on, let’s find you something to eat.” She turned away, glancing over her shoulder. “We’ll be back when all the food is ready. But if you need more time just let me know.”

“Thank you, Mirelle.” He waggled a single digit at Korakos. “Remember. Behave yourself.”

If Korakos heard his father, he paid him little heed. Instead, he swung his head around, staring at everything around him as if being a few feet higher had provided him some great revelation. He stretched his neck over Mirelle’s shoulder, only to pull it back and stick his head over the other one. As Mirelle crossed the yard, Korakos repeated the act, seemingly trying to glimpse everything around him from each possible vantage.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Revaramek settled down alongside Nyra. “And while we’re alone, we need to talk about what happened last night, while you slept.”

Nyramyn finished her water, and pushed the bucket away. She stretched her neck, gently nuzzling him. “Whenever you’re ready, love.” She licked his cheek.

Revaramek swallowed hard. His heart fluttered. Where did he even begin? The dragon stroked his mate’s foreleg, thankful for her patience as he considered how to approach the night’s events. His gaze wandered along her green-scaled body, towards the swatch of gauzy fabric affixed to her lower belly. After half her wound inexplicably healed, Revaramek had shown Korakos how to change the dressing. Together, they’d spread fresh salve across the center of the bandage, then gently smeared sticky resin across Nyra’s scales to hold the covering in place. Now that it was morning, it was nearly time to repeat the process.

“I suppose we may as well start with why you wound doesn’t hurt as much as you expected. Let me remove your bandage.” Revaramek curled towards her, hooking his claws under the fabric’s edge. He slowly pulled it free, exposing a freshly stitched pink line only half as big as it was the night before. Everything looked clean, with no sign of infection or unexpected drainage. A few stitches now marked only skin, where they’d once held together a wound that was no longer there. “Take a look.”

Nyra curled her neck around, staring back at herself. Her eyes narrowed and her frills went flat as she studied the injury. Then her spines shot up, and she let out a little gasp. “What happened to it? It was so much bigger last night.”

“It was healed.” Revaramek set the bandage aside. “I never expected-”

“Youdid that?” Nyra gaped at him, and before he could reply, she went on. “I didn’t even know your spark could do that.”

“Actually, it wasn’t-”

“Why didn’t you do the rest of it?” She cocked her head, then sucked in a little breath. “Wait, did you hurt yourself trying to heal me?”

Revaramek grimaced. “No, Nyra, I didn’t-”

She swatted at him with a forepaw. “You shouldn’t be risking yourself trying to help me that way, you big, loveable oaf! You should have-”

“Nyra!” Revaramek snapped his teeth sharply enough to silence her. “I’m not the one who healed you.” He set his paw across hers. “Korakos is.”

Nyramyn stared at him in silence for a long, still moment. When she finally spoke, she managed only a single, breathy word. “What?”

Revaramek gently stroked her foreleg. “You remember back in the swamp, how every night I’d put a paw against you, and will whatever spark I had to keep you safe from the poison?”

Nyra slowly nodded once.

“And…” He swallowed, his ears back. “You realize Korakos knows you’re ill, right?”

Nyra nodded again, her jaw trembling.

“I don’t think he realizes just how sick the swamp made you, but…” He squeezed Nyra’s forepaw, his voice shaking just a little. “He does know you’re unwell. So I told him about our ritual, the I used in the swamp, to try and keep you healthy. And he wanted to help me.” He held his other front paw up. “Now, I know it’s too late to erase the damage that’s been done. But I thought it couldn’t hurt to try, just the same. And we already know that hisspark is going to be so much stronger than mine. I just…” Revaramek stared down at her half-healed wound. “I didn’t expect it to be so strong, already.”

Nyra’s eyes followed his. She gazed at her own injury for a time, then returned her eyes to Revaramek’s. “What happened, Rev?”

“We started it the same way.” Revaramek set his free paw near her wound. “The same words. Nyramyn was not poisoned. As if your life was but a story, and I was changing it for you. Korakos spoke the words as well, and I could feel his spark flowing through him, into me, into you. But…” Revaramek shuddered at the memory, his scales clicking. “He wanted to do more, for you. To make you healthy, to make you strong, to…” He trailed off, realizing that without ever meaning to, Korakos had asked his spark to save his mother’s life. “To save you.”

Nyramyn gave a little whimper, her tail twitching. “Oh, my beautiful child…” Unshed tears glimmered in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “Did he…” She glanced towards the Cathedral, where Mirelle had taken Korakos. “Did he understand what he was doing?”

“I don’t think so.” Revaramek stroked her foreleg. “When he started asking for more, his spark was like an eruption, a storm. As if he’d called to his spark, but summoned an entire damn lightning bolt. It coursed through me, into you, taking over. Hell, it started seizing my power, as if to add it to its own. And whatever was happening, it…” He gestured at a few firefly corpses. “It summoned them. They were reacting to it, somehow. Like it was driving them mad. They were flying all around us, faster and faster until they flew themselves to death. And then you started healing.” He drew a line in the air, just above the vanished portion of her wound. “By then, Korakos was almost in a trance. He…”

A shiver ran down the dragon’s spine. “He was shaking! And couldn’t hear me telling him to stop!” The dragon worked his jaws, shrugging his wings. “I tried to force him to, but it was as though his powers were fighting mine. Only when I managed to overcome it, and break the connection between us, did everything finally end. By then, half your wound was healed. Korakos collapsed, and I…” Revaramek stretched a trembling foreleg out into the air. “I shook him, called his name, terrified. But then it was as if he was…waking, from a dream. Asking if he’d ‘done magic’, and helped you. All I could tell him was that he had.”

Nyra whimpered, staring at the Cathedral’s backdoors. “Oh, Kor! My poor little son…”

Revaramek stretched his neck, nuzzling her jawline. He grasped her forepaw tighter, squeezing it. “I know, Nyra, I know. But he’s alright.”

Nyra shivered, pulling her head back to stare into Revaramek’s eyes. “We can’t let him try that again.”

Don’t let him save her. The words of the night’s unnerving visitor echoed through Revaramek’s head. He won’t survive.

“I completely agree,” Revaramek said, his voice taut. “And we need to have a talk with him about that.” His tail curled in on itself. “Among other things.”

“We…” Nyra sighed, leaning against Revaramek. “We should tell him everything, when Mirelle brings him back. Get it over with. The sooner he knows, he sooner he can prepare himself.”

“You’re probably right.” Revaramek stretched his wing across Nyra’s back, leaving her wound uncovered for now. “I wanted to wait until you were stronger, but…if you’re ready, then so I am.”

“I think it’s for the best.” Nyra gently nuzzled his neck. “When I used to leave him at home in the swamp, to search for the gate? I always tried to give him at least a few days notice, before I left. So that he was ready to say goodbye, again.”

Revaramek winced. His heart sank. His poor son was going to have to say goodbye to both of them, this time. “We’ll come back to him.” Revaramek hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud, but their slipped off his tongue before he could stop himself.

“Yes.” Nyra rested her muzzle across his neck. “We will.” She took a slow breath, then idly waved a wing at the sand figurines. “You may as well tell me the rest of it now, too.”

Revaramek stared across the grassy expanse, towards the patch of sand that sprawled across a patch of Mirelle’s garden. “Do you remember, our first years together in the swamp? I used to tell you stories of my life, and my adventures.” Revaramek swept a forepaw through the air. “You’d listen in rapt attention, a smile on your muzzle…” Then he clenched his paw into a fist, chuckling. “And disbelief in your heart.”

Nyra nuzzled the back of his neck. “In my head, really. My heart wanted to believe you, but head refused to accept it was true.” She licked a few scales. “But you know I believe you now, don’t you?”

“Of course, Nyra.” Revaramek rubbed her fingers with his pads. “And it never mattered if you believed me or not, so long as my tales brought a little joyful light into that dark place you called home. But what happened last night?” Revaramek tossed his head, then snorted. “Even I would be hard pressed to believe it had been anything more than some fevered dream, had Korakos not also experienced it.” He cast a glance at the tiny sand statues. “And did those not yet linger as unnerving reminder.”

Nyramyn nodded, nuzzling his neck again. “Take your time, Rev. Whatever happened, I believe you.”