Revaramek the Resplendent -Missing Chapter L (Patreon)

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Additional Chapter L

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“There’s so many people here.”

“I know, Nyra.” Revaramek licked Nyramyn’s neck. “But you’re doing great.”

Nyra leaned into his affection, then returned it with a gentle nuzzle. “I’m trying. I must seem so foolish, to you.”

“Not at all.” Revaramek shook his head, brushing a wing across hers. “In fact, I’d say you’re being quite courageous.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Nyra said, smiling. “But I shall accept it as a compliment, just the same.”

The two dragons stood upon a wide, cobbled street, deep in the heart of refuge. Korakos perched atop Revaramek’s back. Nyra’s wound was healing swiftly, and at last she was able to walk without her mate’s support. The time for their journey into the desert was swiftly approaching. But before they left, Revaramek wished to introduce Nyra to the city, and the city to Nyra. Though Nyramyn was hesitant to walk among so many people, she nevertheless agreed to let Revaramek guide her into the city.

To make things easier for her Nyra, Revaramek and Mirelle plotted out their route in advance. Mirelle tasked the city guard with barricading off the streets, to keep the space clear for the dragons. The city’s residents all crowded in behind the barricades, as if to witness a grand parade. Soldiers in armor patrolled the lines of people, keeping order. At key intersections, urd’thin riding atop gryphons kept watch. A few more circled on the skies above. While Revaramek did not expect trouble from the townsfolk, he knew the more visible effort put forth into ensuring their safety, the more comfortable Nyra would feel.

As they traversed the streets, Nyra had slowly relaxed, just a little. When they first set out, her claw tips clicked against the cobblestones, her teeth were bared, and her spines all stood on rigid display. Gradually, though, her frills settled down, her snarl faded, and her claws retracted. Now, nearly at the last destination of their trip, she seemed more awed by the murmuring crowds than fearful of them.

Korakos, meanwhile, had been anything but scared. To ensure he didn’t suddenly run off into the crowd, the dragons made their son ride upon their backs. His exuberance was not so easily contained, however. Korakos had spent much of the walk running up and down the length of his parents’ bodies, or jumping back and forth between them. Even now he scrambled upon Revaramek’s neck, tiny claws digging painfully into frills to find purchase. Once atop Rev’s head, he settled himself between his father’s broken horns, watching the masses with wide eyes.

Nyra walked forward at his side, her steps slow and measured. She turned her head, staring at a black and red furred urd’thin, perched atop a deep gray gryphon. Both urd’thin and gryphon were clad in custom fitted chainmail, with heavy padding beneath to stop it from catching on fur, and feathers. The gryphon bowed his head, and the urd’thin gave a friendly wave. Nyra stared at them a moment longer, before somewhat awkwardly returning their gestures.

Nyramyn turned her attention to her mate. “Did you find the city frightening, when you first walked its streets?”

Revaramek flattened back his ears. “That’s a more complicated question than you realize.” He licked his nose as he led her onwards. “They certainly didn’t have gryphon-riding urd’thin back then.” Revaramek greeted the two guards as they passed them. “Nor was the city anywhere near as big, or populous. And, I suppose that would depend on what you considered my first visit to the city. Believe it or not, there was a time when they weren’t exactly fond of having me drop by.” Revaramek tossed his head. “Apparently I was once known for my unplanned and accidental destruction of important city…” He tilted his head. “Well, everything.”

Nyramyn gave him a long, cold stare. “You? I can’t imagine.”

“Neither can I!” Revaramek laughed, curling a wing across her back. “I’m sure it was all simply a grand misunderstanding.”

“Yes, of course.” Nyramyn nodded. “It couldn’t have been your innate clumsiness causing you to stumble into anything fragile.”

“No, certainly-”

“Or your complete and total inability to take a hint.”

“Well, that’s-”

“Or your well-known penchant for annoying literally everyone you come across.”

Revaramek put a paw across his chest. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Besides, it’s not my fault their banners are flammable, and they built so many buildings prone to collapse. If anything, they should have thanked me for helping them improve their construction standards.”

Nyramyn snorted, flicking him with her tail tip. “Yes, you were a real hero to their many overworked engineers.”

“Exactly!” Revaramek nodded his agreement. “I shall never understand why they didn’t see it that way. At least they eventually came to recognize my heroism, however belatedly.”

“And surely,” Nyra said, nosing at him. “It’s merely a coincidence that you also happened to stop destroying things every time they let you.”

“Oh, absolutely.” As they approached another major intersection, Revaramek paused, his wing still across her back. “Alright, if you’re willing, I’d like to take a moment to introduce you and Korakos.”

Nyra pinned her ears back. “Again? We just did that a little earlier.”

“Yes, we did.” Revaramek pointed back the way they’d come. “For the people back there. These are different people.”

Nyramyn tilted her head. “Have they not already heard my name, though? I thought you said it had already spread through the city.”

“It has.” Revaramek ushered her towards the center of the crossing. “But that’s not the point. You appreciate your formalities, right? The city’s residents are no different. Think of this introduction as an important formal ceremony for a new, and important resident. It must be repeated several times so that everyone can participate.”

Nyramyn scrunched her muzzle. “I suppose that’s acceptable. Though it remains frustrating to be so introduced, and yet be unable to participate in the ceremony myself.” Before Revaramek could answer, she amended herself. “Verbally, I mean. Bowing and gestures shall have to suffice, for now.”

“And suffice they shall!” Revaramek gave another lick, then withdrew his wing. “Korakos, move over to your mother, will you? I’m going to tell everyone your names again.”

Korakos stood up atop Revaramek’s head. He waggled his haunches, staring at his mother.

“No, Korakos, don’t jump-”

Korakos leapt off Revaramek before the dragon could even finish his sentence. He thumped down against Nyramyn’s head hard enough to make her yelp, her muzzle dropping. He snatched at her horns for purchase, digging hind claws into her scales near her ears. Once he was settled, he smiled back at his father.

“But I’m good at jumping!”

Nyramyn winced beneath him. “That doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for your father and I. Or safe for you!”

“Yes, Korakos.” Revaramek lifted a forepaw to shake a single digit at his son. “If you’re going to leap back and forth between us, at least wait for us to be prepared. And make sure we’re closer together.”

Nyra glanced at him, her eyes narrowed. “That’s not what-”

“Can’t hear you, dear.” Revaramek strode forward, spreading his wings. “Introducing my family to the city!”

“You know, some days, I’m starting to understand the value Mirelle sees in kicking your-”

“Hello, good people!” Revaramek called out in a voice loud and booming enough to drown out Nyramyn’s playful threats. “Your favorite benevolent overlord is ever so pleased to see you all turning out!”

As people returned his greetings with shouts and cheers, Revaramek pivoted, sweeping his gaze across both sides of the street. Residents of all species crowded in behind gold-painted barricades. Humans formed the majority, there were plenty of va’chaak mingling amidst them as well. There were also a good number of urd’thin, as well as a few smaller, lizard-like kobolds, as well as several taller, furry, vaguely canine species. Revaramek thought they might have been called gnolls, but he could not remember for certain. Throughout the day, he’d even spotted several other species he simply was not familiar with. Lately there were so many people of all kinds finding their way to Refuge, Revaramek couldn’t even keep track anymore.

“And just look at all of you!” Revaramek made another slow turn, calling out to a few people in particular. “We’ve got humans and va’chaak, standing side by side gryphons, and urd’thin, and…” He waved his paw at something feline looking, with tufted ears. “Whatever the hell you are!”

The feline laughed and called something back. “Vrrshkeen!

Revaramek blinked at the creature, who he could only assume had just sneezed. “Gods bless you!” He scrunched his muzzle. “Anyway, it’s wonderous to see the city not only growing, but coming together more and more, day by day!” He pressed a paw to his chest. “It warms my heart to see once-bitter enemies, now standing together as friends.” Revaramek stretched a wing, gesturing with it towards an older human woman, and a younger male Va’chaak. “Where once you were foes, now you are family!”

“Family?” The va’chaak curled his lip, folding his arms. “I ain’t never met that lady in my life.”

Revaramek blinked. “Not really the point I’m trying to-”

“And whaddya mean foes?” The older woman jabbed a finger in the air towards the dragon. “Just cause he’s a va’chaak, I’m supposed to have been his enemy?” She slapped the back of a hand against her palm. “I’ll have you know I helped tend the va’chaak wounded after the war, just the same as anyone else! We may have been on different sides for a time, but I haven’t ever in my life considered the va’chaak people to be my enemy! Why, the very notion-”

“Yes, you’re a real saint!” Revaramek turned away, while the older woman continued rambling on. “The point is, though the city has known conflict, now it knows peace, and-”

“And we’d like to keep having peace!” Another man called out, waving a fist in the air. “So how about you stop tryin’ to sow fresh divisions with all foes and enemies talk?”

“I’m trying to make a damn point!” Revaramek tossed his head. “About how far we’ve come, and how wonderful it is that we’re all united.”

“Yeah, but me old gran-”

“Certainly has no bearing on this discussion!”

Nyra stepped closer to him. “What are they arguing with you about? What did you tell them? I haven’t heard my name yet.”

Revaramek huffed, glancing back at his mate. “I haven’t told them anything yet. I was trying to make a point about how we all used to be enemies, and now-”

“You all used to be enemies?” Nyramyn tilted her head. “I don’t imagine they’d like to be reminded about that. You should leave that part out, and move on.”

Revaramek hissed through his teeth. “Yes, thank you Nyra.” He cleared his throat, then spoke up to the crowd once more. “Anyway, remember how you all call me the hero of the marsh, and practically worship the ground on which I walk?”

An urd’thin in a red sweater, seated on a tree limb, called back. “I wouldn’t go quite that far!”

Revaramek glanced over at him. “Yes, well, worship is a strong word. Perhaps, deeply respect and adore me, as your beloved benevolent overlord, would have been better.”

The urd’thin scratched his muzzle. “Wouldn’t go that far, either. And you’re not really an overlord, are you? More of a…loveable, protective oaf.”

Revaramek blinked, pulling back his head. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” A woman near the urd’thin chimed in. “You’re more like a clumsy guardian we’re all mostly thankful for.”

“Exactly.” The urd’thin nodded. “And most of the time, we even like having you around.”

The dragon grit his teeth, his frills pinned back. He lashed his tail, and then gave a little sigh. “You know what? I’ll take what I can get.” He tossed his head. “Besides, I only stopped here because I wanted to introduce my mate and child to you.”

“Then get on with it!”

Revaramek stomped a forepaw. “I’m trying!” He snorted. “You know, the last intersection wasn’t anywhere near this disruptive. They were happy to listen to my little speech about unity, and how happy it makes me. If you don’t want to hear me talk, I may as well just hurry things along.” He waved a wing towards his mate and child. “This is Nyramyn, and that’s Korakos atop her.” Revaramek turned his head back towards his family. “Come on, Nyra, we’re-”

A great, rousing cheer erupted from the crowd. The sound rolled through them in waves, rising and falling. Soon, a round of applause broke out, following the cheer with its happy, concussive patter. A few whistles, hoots, and hollers broke through the wall of sound. Revaramek glared at everyone, lashing his tail.

“Oh, sure,” the dragon said. “She gets a cheer, and I don’t?” He shook his head in disbelief, laughing. “Still, I suppose if anyone deserves it more than I do, it’s Nyra.”

Nyramyn splayed her ears, gazing around before looking at Revaramek.

“That means they like me, right?” Nyra scrunched her muzzle. “It’s awfully noisy.”

Revaramek turned to nose her. “Yes, Nyra, it means they like you. Come along. We mustn’t keep Mirelle waiting.”

“But you’re the one who keeps insisting we stop at every crossing so you can tell everyone my name.” She narrowed her eyes, nipping at his scales. “I’m starting to think you only want to stop so that you can talk to the people, and get them to cheer for you.”

“What?” Revaramek sucked in a breath, feigning indignity. “I would never!” He turned away, padding down the street. “Anyway, let’s go before this lot starts babbling about their collective old grans and their myriad crafting projects.”

“Wait, I think you mixed words from the local language in there. What is…” Nyra tried to speak the unfamiliar syllables. “Ooold… graan?”

Revaramek snorted again. “Don’t ask.”

“But then why did you bring it up, if you’re not going to explain it?”

Revaramek hung his head. “It’s a local term for elderly human females who are unnaturally gifted at making things.”

“Well, that sounds like quite the blessing.”

“You know, you’d think that, but mostly they all just brag about who’s grandmother made which banner, painted which sign, and dug which latrine.”

Revaramek led Nyra onwards through the city, along streets lined with people. He was a little surprised by just how many of the city’s residents had turned out to catch a glimpse of his family. Then again, despite his frequent presence, he supposed dragon visits were still relatively rare. Those that did come to entreat with Mirelle and the Council rarely stayed longer after their negotiations were concluded. Once in a while, a draconic visitor wandered the city, under watch, or visited local pubs and eateries. But all in all, Revaramek remained the only dragon that most of the locals saw semi-regularly. It was his great hope that in the future, once Nyra was saved, she and Korakos would become just as well known, and just as welcome.

Along the way, Nyramyn marveled at all the structures humans had built. Though she had seen the city from the air, walking its streets was something else entirely. Wonder shone in her pale, golden eyes as they passed by lines of colorfully painted homes with tiled roofs. Another road was lined with white buildings decorated with lines of black wood. Other buildings were hewn from whole logs notched and stacked together. Many more were constructed from bricks of baked clay, or heavy stones mortared together. Muddy alleyways cut little lines between blocks of buildings. Signs hung from posts and overhanging eaves, offering a variety of goods, services, and foods. Sunlight glittered off myriad glass windows.

Everywhere there were little decorations. Flowering plants grew from pots and barrels, to decorative animals and beasts carved from wood and stone. Slatted blinds adorned windows. One shop had a small, fenced off area out front where countless, imaginatively colored butterflies of blown glass hung on strings and danced on the breeze. A few other winged creatures mingled amidst them, including several familiar looking dragons and gryphons. Banners and flags of all shapes and sizes hung everywhere. Ornamental pottery adorned entryways and little patios.

Revaramek explained everything to her as they passed it. He did his best to keep his explanations on the simple side, so as not to overwhelm her. Still, for a dragon who loved to explain the meaning of things, he found such intentional simplicity challenging. Revaramek told her the blacksmith’s forge was a place where metal was made. Though he could have spent all day explaining the differences between stone and ores, and making up the parts he didn’t know himself, Revaramek forced himself to swallow down that information, and continue walking. Restaurants and eateries were easier. He simply told her people went there to barter for food, rather than hunt and prepare it themselves. For now, the finer details of commerce could wait. He explained various storefronts in the same ways, places people could barter for things they wanted. Some offered clothing, others decorative items, or goods for the home, or services, and so on.

The dragon also made sure his mate understood that people did not normally line the streets this way. What she was seeing was a good representation of the city, if not a complete one. Many of the usual vendor carts hawking sizzling meats and trinkets that often lined the streets and intersections were moved back to make room for barricades and teeming crowds. The beasts of burden that pulled carriages, wagons, and other wheeled conveyances were no where to be seen, as if the city workers feared Nyra would be to tempted to stop and feed upon every ox and mule she saw. Some pubs and eateries were chock full of people, while others were shuttered for the day. The same was true of businesses that faced the barricaded streets.

With the city’s usual order rearranged, and the crowds so concentrated, so too were the scents different. Revaramek had done his best to prepare Nyra for the overwhelming chaos of city scents, but it had still taken her time to adjust to the constant assault upon her senses. The smell of so many humans packed together on a warm day was nearly overwhelming. It mingled with the unique scents of the urd’thin and gryphons, va’chaak and every other resident. With the food stalls pushed back and some of the restaurants closed for the day, there were far fewer food scents tempting them to stop every couple of steps. Yet those that remained were somehow even stronger than usual, as if the scent of spiced lamb roasting over open flames were made all the sharper by virtue of being the only such smell to cut through the others.

Soon enough, the end of their journey lay in sight. Though the day’s wanderings were primarily intended help Nyra acclimate to living amongst humans and other peoples, Revaramek had also arranged a destination with Mirelle. Deep in the city was something he knew would help illustrate to Nyra just how much the city could grow to cherish the presence of dragons.

Ahead of them was a grand square, once the centerpiece of the village, long before it grew into a thriving city. Some of Refuge’s largest, most popular pubs still surrounded the great plaza, ringing it with ornate, multi-story story buildings. One was designed in the style of an ancient castle, with miniature towers and parapets. Another had four tiers of expansive balconies like a grand staircase, each overlooking the next.

Every tavern was filled with people, a raucous crowd waiting to see and celebrate the Hero of the Marsh, and his family. Many more people filled the plaza outskirts. The gold-painted barricades that lined the street extended into the square, keeping the plaza’s center clear of people. Guards patrolled the barriers, but just like everywhere else, their presence alone was enough to keep order. Though Revaramek did not expect anyone to cause trouble, he was happy Mirelle had gone to such lengths to ensure his family’s first real visit into the city was both pleasant, and safe.

At the far end of the plaza stood a familiar statue, depicting a smiling dragon surrounded by books. A small, temporary dais had been erected near it. A cloth tarp was draped across something else resting near the statue. Mirelle stood atop the dais, dressed formally in the city’s colors. From the looks of things, she’d been addressing the crowd before they approached. Revaramek wondered if someone had been keeping tabs on their progress on Mirelle’s behalf.

“And here, at last, they are!” Mirelle swept her hand towards the approaching dragons. A cheer erupted from all around the square. The joyous cries rang loudest from the balconies and patios of the many taverns. Mirelle waited for the cheers to die down just a little before continuing. “May I present to you, Revaramek, Hero of the Marsh! At his side, his beloved mate, Nyramyn! And, riding atop his mother, their beautiful son, Korakos!”

The cheers and applause rose to thunderous levels. At his side, Nyramyn flattened back her ears, raising her voice just to be heard. “Are you sure that noise means they’re happy with us?”

“Quite sure!” Revaramek pinned his own ears back. “They’d better not deafen my son, though!” He turned his attention to Korakos. “Kor, put your paws over your ears until it quiets down!”

Korakos, now standing up atop Nyra’s head, did no such thing. Instead, he took a deep breath, and then roared as loud as a little hatchling could roar. That merely emboldened the boisterous audience. Their shouts and cacophonous ovation grew louder still. That, in turn, further encouraged Korakos. The tiny dragon filled his lungs another, and then howled again, tilting back his head as if trying to bring down the sky itself. As the gathered masses responded once more, Revaramek gave up on trying to protect his son’s hearing.

“Well, that’s that, then.” He chuckled to himself, glancing at Nyra. “If he goes deaf, he goes deaf.”

“What?” Nyra tilted her head. “I can’t hear you!” She lifted a forepaw to rub one of her ears. “I think all this shouting is making me go deaf!”

“That goes for all of us then!” Revaramek ushered Nyra along with a wing. When the noise died down a fraction, he looked back at her. “That sneaky Mirelle must have something else in mind. Someone must have been telling her how far along we were, so she’d know when to begin her speech.”

Nyra licked her nose. “What speech?”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “Whatever speech she must have been telling about us to get the crowd so riled up! Clearly it was timed to finish up just as we arrived.” He turned his attention towards the tarp-draped mystery object behind the dais. Whatever it was, it was less than half the size of the statue. Mirelle certainly hadn’t told him about it. “Wonder what she’s cooked up this time?”

“There you are, finally!” Mirelle hopped down off the dais, and hurried towards them. “It’s about time!”

Revaramek snorted, his tail tip flicking. “Considering you seemed to be at the very end of an unexpected speech, I suspect we’re actually right on time.”

Mirelle only smiled, smoothing down her indigo blouse. “Actually, if I’m truthful, you’re earlier than expected.”

“Good thing you had your spies keeping track of our progress then, hmm?”

Mirelle adjusted a red-hemmed sleeve. “Something like that. I just had one of the gryphons keeping watch from the skies stop by and tell me how far along you were now and then. Anyway, I’ve warmed the crowd up. Gave them the whole spiel about how Nyra saved your life while you were trapped in the swamp, how you were forced to leave her behind, and how she found her way here.” She dusted her hands off, grinning. “Just know, just the basics.”

“I see.” Revaramek lifted his head, gazing across a portion of the crowd. “And what am I supposed to tell them?”

“Who says you have to tell them anything? They already know who you are.” Mirelle laughed, turning towards Nyra. “Besides, your mate likes formal things, right?” Mirelle smiled at Nyra, and offered her a little bow. Nyra returned it by lowering her head. “I thought perhaps she might like to introduce herself to them. You can translate for her.”

Revaramek stretched a wing to gently brush it across Nyra’s back. “Perhaps you’re right.” He pointed a single digit towards the tarp-draped object nearby. “Dare I ask what that is?”

Mirelle merely shrugged. “You’ll find out, soon enough. Now go on, see if Nyra wishes to introduce herself. If not, I’m sure you can manage.”

“I’ve managed it so far! I’ve done quite a fine job introducing my family to your city, today.” Revaramek lashed his tail, snorting. “Aside from that one intersection with all the hecklers.” He turned his head, lifting his frills as he spoke to his mate. “Nyra, Mirelle says, that since you enjoy formality, perhaps you’d like to introduce yourself to the city. After all, they’re really here to see you and Korakos, not me. So if you’d like, you speak, and I’ll translate.”

Nyramyn licked her nose, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Alright. What…what should I say?”

Revaramek smiled, bumping his nose against hers. “Whatever your heart tells you, my love. As much, or as little, as you like.”

“Very well.” Nyra looked around, swallowing. “Where should I stand?”

“Roughly there, I suppose.” Revaramek pointed to the area in front of the dais. “That way everyone should be able to see you, and you can address most of the crowd without having to move around very much.”

“Alright.” Nyra padded across the plaza, hooking her tail around Revaramek’s foreleg to draw him after her. “Come with me.”

Revaramek chuckled, walking after her. “I wasn’t going to let you go it all alone, love.” He glanced back towards Mirelle. “She’s willing to do it, but she’s not sure what to say.”

“I gathered as much.” Mirelle patted the dragon’s tail, then hurried around him, and scrambled onto the dais again. “Just tell me when she’s ready.”

As they neared the wooden platform, Nyra’s gaze wandered to the statue of the dragon, surrounded by books. She stared at it for several long moments, before sucking in a sharp breath. “Is that you?”

Revaramek rumbled laughter, his finned tail swishing. “Of course, it’s me, Nyra! Who else would it be? Buralva?”

Nyramyn splayed her ears. “I’ve no idea who that is.”

“Nevermind.” Revaramek snorted, tossing his head. “It doesn’t matter. Yes, that’s a statue of me! Why else would Mirelle and I have planned for our walk to end here?”

Nyra shrugged her wings. “How should I know? I’d just assumed it was a central location with space for as many people as possible.” She padded around the dais, moving closer to the statue. “But I should have guessed you’d be planning to show yourself off, instead.”

“Nonsense.” Revaramek shook his head, following at her side. “I’m not showing myself off. I’m showing off a statue of myself. There’s a difference.”

“If you say so.” Nyra flicked him his hind leg with her tail.

“That’s father!” Korakos stood up atop Nyra’s head, bouncing a few times despite her protests. “There’s a big rock that looks like father!”

Revaramek reached up to pluck the hatchling off Nyra’s head, to spare her his troublesome claws. “That’s called a statue, Korakos. And yes, it’s me. The city carved it to commemorate me.”

Nyra grunted. “Oh, here we go.” She lowered her voice to a playful whisper. “You see, commemorate means-”

“You see,” Revaramek said, ignoring her. “Commemorate means to celebrate and honor someone, often after they’re gone. You remember my stories, of how I came to meet your mother in the marsh?”

“Uh huh!” Korakos wriggled around in his father’s grasp for a better look at the statue. “It was raining!”

“It sure was.” Revaramek settled on his haunches to cradle Korakos in both forelegs. “And in this world, Asterbury…” He flattened his ears. “The furry thing. He was fighting with the city. You remember my stories about that, too?”

“Uh huh!” Korakos nodded a few times. “You beat him up and then he beat you up and then had a dream about a song that made you feel better and then you met momma!”

Revaramek laughed at his son’s oversimplification. “Yes, well.” He licked his nose. “Something like that. But before that-”

“Was it the same song?” Korakos twisted around to stare up at his father.

The dragon tilted his head. “The same song as what?”

“As the stars!” Korakos pointed a little finger towards the sky. “The stars sang when the sand thing came to yell at you. Was it that song that made you feel better?”

“I…” Revaramek worked his jaws in silent thought. Was it that song? It had been familiar, hadn’t it? At the time, in the middle of the night and newly awakened, he’d certainly believed the melody to be the same. “I think it was, yes. In fact, I-”

“Was it the song you sang to me?” Korakos stared up at his father, placing a paw against his chest scales. “After the sand thing left?”

“No, Korakos.” Revaramek shook his head. “That was a song an old friend wrote, many, many years ago. But you said you heard me singing my sleep too, right? That…that was probably Vakaal’s song. The stars’ song.”

Nyramyn bumped her muzzle against Revaramek’s neck, giving him a few tender licks. “And here I thought you were just going to lecture him about the meaning of the word commemorate.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Revaramek shifted Korakos around again, turning him towards the statue. “The town carved this to commemorate me, after I’d lured Asterbury into the swamp. You see, they had believed I’d given my life, to save them. And, in truth…” He went quiet, staring at the sculpture of himself. He looked so happy in it, so joyful. So proud to have been their hero, at long last. “I believed the same. I took Asterbury into that swamp, knowing full well that I was going to die, there. And I alright, with that. Because I knew I’d saved all these people.”

Nyramyn rested her muzzle across her neck. “For all your bluster and bravado, you really are a hero. And I shall ever thank whatever gods will listen, for guiding you home to me.” She reached out, and squeezed his forepaw.

“As shall I, Nyra.” Revaramek smiled, a warm happiness in his heart. Then, a little of that warmth faded just as quickly as it came to him. “But let’s not thank them too loudly. I’m not too fond of the only gods who seem to be listening to me lately.”

“We’ll thank Vakaal, then. At least he-”

“Father has lots of stories!” Korakos leaned over Revaramek’s foreleg, pointing to all the carved books.

Nyramyn lifted her head, chuckling. “Yes, love, he certainly does. The town seems to know him quite well.” She gestured at the plaque, at the statue’s base. “What does it say?”

“It says…” Revaramek’s throat clenched with sudden, hot tightness. “That I…” He swallowed, and forced himself to speak. “That I made my mother proud.”

“Oh…” Nyra’s ears drooped. She opened a wing, and curled it across Revaramek’s back, hugging him. “Then they know you as well as I, for I know you surely did just that.” She nuzzled him, offering a comforting purr beneath her breath. “She would be ever so proud of you, to see you today.”

A smile fought its way across Revaramek’s muzzle, battling through age old loss and sorrow. “Thank you, Nyra. I’d like to think she would.” For a few moments, the dragons sat in silence, taking simple comfort in one another. Finally, Rev lifted his head, gazing out across the crowd. People milled about, murmuring, awaiting their eventual formal introduction to his family. “Perhaps you’d like to say something to the people, now?”

Nyra flattened her spines. “I suppose this is as ready as I shall ever be. I still don’t know what to say to them, but…” She looked at the statue again, cocking her head. “I imagine it should be nice for them to come to know me, as they have known you. I think, perhaps…” She turned her attention back to Revaramek, and for a long moment, stared into his eyes. “I have an idea. Tell Mirelle I’m ready.”