Chapter 50 Bonus: Prima Draconis 4

Kishar was still curled around its son when Disaeite and Etirili caught up. Shanu’s struggles had ceased long ago, along with him. Kishar couldn’t bear to move. It couldn’t look at its own son. It couldn’t even bring itself to keep crying. It had simply entered a state of half-awake numbness, seemingly paralyzed.

It made no move as it heard the approaching wing-beats of its sister. The sound of crashing metal boots on the stone below it announced the snow leopard’s presence. “Kishar!” She roared up at it, as furious as she was wet. “What. The-” Etirili seemed to have been cut off by something unseen.

Disaeite’s consciousness touched against the first dragon’s own a moment later.“Kishar, is that… is that Shanu? Is he…”

“It’s all my fault.” The mourning parent tightened itself around the corpse of its son, the first it had been able to move since Shanu had stopped moving. “I never should have become dragon.”

“What?” Disaeite bent down by the two, gently nudging her sibling’s wing away to get a look at her nephew. “But, Tiamat created you from… from nothing.” She choked out the words as she laid eyes upon the frozen dragon beneath. “Kishar… I am so, so sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” It coiled closer again, shutting her out again. “I’m the monster who let this happen.”

“Just…” Etirili stepped up again, now approaching with more tact than she’d arrived with. “What happened? Why did you dump me in the lake?”

“I just wanted to talk… I just- I needed-” It tightened further until it felt snapping in the frozen flesh below it, and recoiled back. “I should be dead. It should have been me. He was better than I ever could have been…”

“Talk?” Disaeite furrowed her brow. To a dragon, talking to a serpent should be as talking to one’s prey. It simply didn’t happen, except taunts and jabs at best. “Why would you…”

“I just wanted the fighting to end. No more dead serpents! No more dead dragons!” Kishar quivered under her gaze. It was the largest of any of the dragons, save Tiamat, but had never felt so small. Looking up at at Disaeite now felt as intimidating as staring down Ningishzida himself. “I’ve watched to many kin die! I can’t- not again!”

“But why talk to the serpent if you didn’t want any kin to die!” Etirili was back to being livid. “You can’t reason with a serpent!”

“No…” Disaeite mental voice sounded as hollow as Kishar felt as she stepped back, eyeing the elder dragon with suspicion. “You- but- you see both sides as kin, don’t you?”

Words failed Kishar. It would wish it could have thought of better final words for its sister.

“You were a serpent, weren’t you?” The dragoness continued to back away, wings at the ready as if she were expecting a fight. “That serpent stole my chosen, and you were going to try to reason with her! What did you say to her? Where is my daughter?” The demands for answers were each punctuated by a roar, her own eyes watering up.

Kishar still couldn’t bid the words from within. It felt paralyzed, as if were staring into the eyes of a serpent. After a moment, the tears began anew, and it tucked its head back under a wing. Its own sister was looking at it like the enemy now, just as she should have from the start. The treatment being deserved did little to ease the pain it cause.

“We’re going, but this conversation isn’t over Kishar!” She unfurled her wings, and with a few mighty flaps, was off again.

Once again, Kishar was alone.

Takilnak had caught up quicker than projected. Kishar still hadn’t moved when its younger brother slammed down onto the ground beside it, and prodded into its mind. “Where is Disaeite? Has she found her chosen? Are you injured?”

Kishar’s head slowly snaked up from its coil over its son, neck stiff after refusing to move for so long. “Injured? I…” It faltered as it spied the stream running below it, stained in red. It could smell its own blood. When had it… As it uncoiled itself further, it found long gashes along its underbelly, in reach of its claws, and that most of the feathers on its tail were missing, seemingly torn out. It hadn’t even realized until then that it had been slicing itself open with its claws, and ripping its tail feathers out. “I suppose I am…”

“Get up! We need to catch up to her!” The smaller dragon dug its snout up under its elder sibling and forced it back onto its feet. However, as Kishar rolled away from him, and revealed Shanu’s corpse beneath, the fire in the stony dragon’s eyes tempered. “Shanu… I… my condolences, Kishar. No one should have to bury one’s child, but that is why we must find Disaeite.”

“R-right…” Kishar stumbled as it moved for the first time in hours. The penetrating cold in its son’s body has soaked into it as well, and its entire vessel felt sluggish and weak. Or maybe it had lost more blood than it had realized.

“Stay still,” Takilnak growled and touched its nose to the cuts and tears. “The serpent did that to you? Those looked like claw marks.”

“I… it’s not…” The dragon’s head settled again on its son’s corpse. It’s dear dear Shanu… What would come of Jesh? How could it ever-

“Kishar!” Takilnak moved to block his sibling’s view with a wing. “I know… I know this is hard, but the serpent! We cannot let it get away! It was irresponsible of Disaeite to go alone. We have to go. NOW!”

Something in the elder dragon finally seemed to snap into place. It had already lost one member of its family today. It stood to lose another.

… Two more, really, though it may be too late for Ninmada. “Alright... Let’s go.”

The two flew in silence as they tracked both Disaeite’s scent and Ninmada’s. Takilnak seemed concerned for his sibling, but lost on how to comfort it. The eleventh dragon had always had a difficult time with people. He had been a warrior, a hunter, foremost. He was almost as secretive about his prior life as Kishar.

All that most of the family knew was that he had spent far too long alone on the ice sheets before being chosen by Tiamat, and that managed to kill a serpent before he had even become a dragon, one by the name of Stornos, barely older than Kishar. Seeing the serpent’s skull mounted in its brother’s home had eventually made the first dragon stop visiting. It could still remember coiling up and listening to the other serpent’s poetry.

“We are close. The scent’s are growing more pronounced.” Takilnak angled his wings down, and began to circle as the pair arrived at their destination. It was the entrance to some sort of cavern, likely one hollowed out by floodwaters following the melt. The air wafting up was tinged with both serpent and dragon, but most chillingly… dragon blood. “We cannot delay further. Follow!” The younger dragon tucked his wings and dove, slamming down through the entrance, barely shrinking itself down in time to fit, refusing to take a vulnerable human form on the hunt.

Kishar hesitated, but followed after. Its flight was already unstable because of its missing tail feathers, and it was forced to take the descent far more slowly. Not too far inside the entrance they could already see a frozen anthronoid, curled upon itself in agony. It didn’t take too close of an inspection to identify the victim. Etirili, the first dragon rider, and oldest anthronoid in existence, had been envenomed. It took a few bites to down a dragon, far more for one of Takilnak or Kishar’s size, but a rider would be especially vulnerable. A single drop would be deadly within seconds.

Kishar felt as if it was going to be sick at the sight. Etirili was, in a sense, an older friend than even Disaeite. The two had met before it had come across any of its siblings. Takilnak had been through three riders in the war alone, as he had lead the charge in more battles than any other dragon. He deserved to be remembered as a legend, not Kishar. He would have made a far better first dragon.

“Keep close. We don’t know if the serpent will try to ambush us. It’s likely how it got…” the dragon trailed off. The death of his nephew and the first dragon rider in one day seemed to be weighing on him as well. “We push forward!”

“Of course, brother…” Kishar hung its head and followed after. These caves were perfect for a serpent, it observed. They wound and curved in a way that made its belly scales stir with anticipation. There was something just as satisfying in slithering along the perfect curve as there was flying on the perfect breeze, but it wouldn’t expect any dragon to understand any more than it ever expected itself to become happy with being a dragon.

A splattered blood trail became their main lead down into the branching tunnels. It started as a trickle, but grew to a dried out stream, with more ground painted in red than not. The tension in the air grew and grew as they descended. The air this far down should be chilled, but the presence of the serpent was enhancing it further. The pair could each see their breath before them. As Takilnak stooped down to squeeze through a particularly cramped portion, the room was filled with bats, screeching and chirping and trying to escape the colossal predators that had invaded their home.

There was no telltale rumble. There was no warning. No sign. One second there was no serpent, and the next there was. Kishar took the hit, roaring in agony as its old mentor’s fangs sank deep into its tail. It wouldn’t kill it, but it would certainly slow it down. “YOU’RE DEAD!” Strange fury it had not felt in millennia coursed through it as it faced its son’s killer, and it whirled around to sink its claws into the snake. Ninmada seemed to disappear entirely, and Kishar’s strike sailed uselessly over a bat fluttering around in the cramped space.

Its tail was already freezing up, and it could feel the venom coursing up from the extremity to its core, fading in potency as its boiling blood fought it off. For once, Kishar felt relieved to have lava flowing in its veins.

“You lied to me! The blood does nothing!” Ninmada seemed to appear again from nowhere, this time behind Takilnak, but the dragon was ready. The younger dragon’s wing surged forward to punch the serpent on the nose and shove it away while keeping its fangs at bay.

“What blood?” The stony dragon snarled and leapt after the snake, trying to pursue the serpent before she could recollect, but its teeth snapped at thin air as the serpent seemed to disappear again.

“She’s shapeshifting!” Kishar warned, finally realizing the true nature of the apparent teleportation. “She’s an expert shapeshifter!”

“So you still remember our lessons, Nintinugga!” She appeared from below Takilnak this time, sinking her fangs into his keel. “Truly you must have surpassed me to be a DRAGON!” She wrenched, and attempted to disappear again as both heads whipped towards her. However, even in the form of a bat she could not avoid the twin spouts of flame aimed for her. The tunnel lit up in brilliant white, the two dragons breathing flames so intense that the bats around them seemed to evaporate rather than burn. The body of the serpent exploded out as it died, and the magic faded.

The pair were forced to leap back as the cave was suddenly plugged up with charred snake meat. Kishar barely avoided being crushed, and found itself tripping and collapsing into a pile of cinders. Its body was struggling to cope with even the one bite. Bit by bit, the venom was receding, melted and pushed back from its core as its magic did its work. The sickness returned ten fold as it thought about what was happening, and the wrongness of its form began to claw at its mind once again. Shanu’s fire hadn’t saved him. Why should Kishar’s? Kishar loathed this fire and yet it was asving its life. It felt vile. Wicked. Why had it survived? This body wasn’t its. It didn’t deserve it. Didn’t want it. Couldn’t stand to be in it any longer. “LETMEOUT LETMEOUT LETMEOUT LET ME OUT!”

It wasn’t sure what happened, but the next thing it knew it had been pinned to the floor of the cave, and all six of its limbs were being firmly held in place by its brother. Its chest stung, and it couldn’t feel most of its wing. Its breathing was ragged, and its eyes were wild, darting every which way. Its heart was beating so fast, and the ice was only receding faster. The wrongness was fighting for it, but how Kishar wished it would stop. It needed out. It couldn’t stand another day in this body.

“KISHAR!” The younger dragon roared in its face. “I know you are suffering, but Disaeite is in trouble! Now is not the time to tear yourself to ribbons!”

Kishar didn’t even bother to look down on the havoc it had wreaked upon itself. The pain was nothing at this point. “It’s my fault! My fault! It’s all my fault!” Kishar continued to thrash, snapping its jaws aimlessly in the air, chipping its teeth with the force of it. ‘

“IT IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT, THEN HELP ME FIX IT! Now, I need you to breathe. Ten seconds in, hold, then eight seconds out. Calm yourself.” Takilnak waited a moment, and allowed its sibling to get a hold of itself, before stepping off. “You’re falling apart, Aurora of Refuge. Please, once we’re back to Fellrock-”

“Don’t call me that,” Kishar sobbed as it rolled over. “I don’t deserve that. I’m a monster… you should kill me too…”

Takilnak hesitated as he turned around, and prepared to start digging through the serpent’s corpse. “Is this about you being a serpent?”

Kishar’s eyes stung, and it struggled to its feet, fangs bared. “So you figured it out? That’s right! And you- you vowed to wipe out the serpents! So go on! Kill me!”

“No.” The word came down like a hammer, with a confidence and finality that Kishar could only expect from its brother. “You are no longer a serpent. Mother saw fit to turn you just as she did us. It was to our benefit. Your knowledge of the serpents aided us much in the war, and you were an excellent teacher for us as we learned magic and shapeshifting.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Kishar rushed its brother, getting right up into his face and baring its venomous fangs. “You’ve always been Mother’s little lapdog! You’ve never questioned a thing she’s said or done in her life! You don’t know who she is! Or what she’s done!”

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW OF HER PAST AS THE TURMOIL WITCH?” Takilnak finally pushed back, locking horns with his sibling and shoving Kishar back. “But who else do we have? She’s trying her best!”

Cackles erupted from Kishar’s chest as the two wrestled, shoving Takilnak’s tail up against the still-steaming serpent flesh behind them. “Then you should know what she did to me! What she does to me every day! I am her greatest crime! Her greatest shame! She can’t even bear to look at me! I stay in those mountains for her sake as much as mine!”

“That’s not true! She misses you!” Takilnak twisted, dislodged, and caught Kishar’s neck in his horns, slamming the larger dragon into the wall. “She loves you!”

“Then why does she-” Kishar went limp, and collapsed down onto the cave floor. “Why does she leave me in agony every day? She made me into something wrong, and then just… left me like that. This was never our deal…”

“Deal?” Takilnak squinted at the feathered dragon for a moment, before deciding it was defeated, and began trying to carve through the serpent’s stomach to open a passage to the next room.

“I… I’ve said too much already.” Kishar curled up against the wall. “She never wanted any of this to come out…”

“Then indeed, you should keep quiet,” Takilnak huffed, and finally entered fully into the snake’s belly. Kishar saw no need to argue. A few minute’s later, he returned, and nipped at Kishar to follow. “I have dug us our path. Come. I am not leaving you along in this state. We must find Disaeite.”

“And now…” Tiamat’s bleak mental voice washed over the crowd of dragons for the funeral, “once again, we must inter our kin to the earth. These will be difficult days for us to come. It has been two thousand years since we have lost another of the original twelve. Each of the fallen weighs heavily on my heart, but… Disaeite is something different. She and I had so much more time to bond, compared to the nine who fell before the reconstruction could truly begin.” Her colossal head swung down to Takilnak and Kishar to nuzzle each in turn. “We are now left with but two to carry the memory of what came before, and of the desolation our world saw. Another serpent has been slain, but… it brought desolation with it once more before justice could prevail. But this also means-”

Kishar could hardly continue to listen. Images flashes in the first dragon’s mind as it recalled the cavern. Disaeite’s crumpled corpse. There had been so much of her life essence in the stomach of the serpent… it was enough for a mortal to swim in. A lake in its own right. Her throat slit open.

It had to excuse itself before it could be sick. The images of not only Disaeite were flashing through it, but its other nine fallen siblings, and its fallen mentor Ninmada, and… and Shanu.

The dragon graveyard was far removed from civilization, high in the mountains of the Dragonlands. It even intersected some with the area that Kishar had called its own in the mountains before. It would have to leave. It couldn’t stay here anymore with Shanu so close. It could hardly sleep as it was. The last two days had been hell.

Tiamat had come to claim Disaeite personally, once she was alerted to the events that had transpired. Shanu was to be its responsibility, as his sire. It would not let anyone else touch the body. Even to help. Takilnak had received a few sizable gashes in his side for the trouble. At most it had allowed its brother to aid in digging the grave.

Dragons had few rituals surrounding death. It was rare enough for them to die that none had truly set in. Typically, the next of kin would work together to dig the grave, and then would hold a speech. If the body was recoverable, then it went to the graveyard in the Dragonlands, without exception. There were too many concerns of grave robbers wanting a dragon skull on their mantle, or a dragon toothed pendant. Tiamat even kept a Fatima on the grounds on watch over them.

Over forty dragons had arrived to dig Disaeite’s grave. Kishar knew she’d had a fair few children, and they’d had their own as well, but… so many. It made its own line look pitiful in comparison.

And now there would not be any line. It couldn’t bear the thought of having another child after this. It wasn’t even sure it would be around much longer. There was still the conversation to come with Tiamat. Takilnak had been entirely truthful to her upon his return, not that Kishar would have it any other way. It deserved whatever punishment was in store. Perhaps it could even be expelled, as one of Takilnak’s grandchildren had been for his assault of Orythia, in the time before she was a dragon.

No. That wouldn’t be much of a punishment, would it? Perhaps staying as it was would be the greatest punishment of all.

Shanu’s service was far smaller. Tirath had come to lay his dragon and husband to rest. Takilnak and Tiamat came to attempt to comfort the first dragon and mourn as well, but their kind words did little to aid Kirash’s aching heart. Jesh was still mortal, and would not be able to come until he was a dragon. If he ever would be, that is. Kishar certainly wouldn’t take him, not that the boy had done anything wrong. It was in no position to ever be able to have a child ever again.

Once Shanu’s service was complete, after Disaeite’s, Kishar simply laid there in the dirt atop the earthen mound. It couldn’t bring itself to stay. It couldn’t bring itself to leave. Disaeite, Elitiri, and Shanu had truly been the only two individuals in this world who had brought it nothing but unadulterated joy, and it had gotten them all killed in the same day.

Eventually, Takilnak flew Tirath back to Fellrock. The giraffe seemed almost as aimless as Kishar now. The first dragon supposed that the former rider was still family. It would have to make a proper apology later. The absence of the dragon and former rider left only Tiamat and Kishar.

The mother and child sat in silence for an entire day, simply watching the clouds go by, and listening to the wind whistle over the cliff faces around them, before the dragon finally managed to speak. “What will be my punishment?”

Tiamat seemed horrified at the suggestion, but quickly forced the emotion down, and tried to center herself again before responding: “My love, have you not been punished enough?”

“I loosed the secret to a serpent. I got another of the original twelve killed. I got the first dragon rider killed. I got…” It faltered. “I should not be a dragon.”

“You made a mistake. I know I’ve made my own-”

“No, mother.” Kishar’s eyes finally rose to meet hers, red and stained with multiple days worth of tears. “I never should have been a dragon. Please. Please… I… I have to get out. I need- I need out. I need out, I need out-” Unbidden, its claws began tearing at its flesh once again. It tore great canyons of flesh and gore asunder, spilling ichor out over the grave of one it had once gifted blood to again. “I NEED OUT I NEED OUT I NEED OUT I NEED OUT!”

SNAP! Its jaws clamped down over one of its wings and tore it free in a violent wrenching, before tossing the limb over the side of the cliff and into the unknown below. It writhed and kicked and squealed in agony and misery as it tore more and more pieces from itself. Every inch of this body was vile. It was incorrect. It was a boiling pot and Kishar was the crab. “I NEED OUT! I NEED OUT! I CAN’T ANYMORE I NEED OUT! I AM WRONG! I AM NOT A DRAGON! I AM NOT-!”

Tiamat had been so shocked at the display that she failed to jump into action at first. Her own horror as Kishar tore itself to pieces in desperation seemed to paralyze her just as Disaeite had been paralyzed in Ninmada’s gaze. Finally, as the wing sailed over the side, she jumped into action, wrapping the dragon up into her wings and holding it as still as she could. Kishar continued its fight, clawing at her as well as itself now, but she continued pouring healing magic into it as it squirmed and screamed. The ground here was almost as red as the cave. It deserved what Disaeite had gotten. It should have been Kishar.

“My love, please. Stop! I- I cannot turn you back to a serpent. Even if I could, it would not be safe for you!” She squeezed tighter. “I cannot give you back your ice, I cannot- I am so sorry, Kishar. I am more sorry than I ever realized anyone could ever be. I cannot comprehend how I have done this to you! Please! There must be something!” She was sobbing along with him, mixing the gore staining her scales and the grave below them with ears. “There must be something!”

Kishar’s desperate attacks upon itself eventually slowed, until it could do nothing but hang limp in its mother’s wings. It wasn’t even sure it had stopped out of anything other than the exhaustion that came after losing that much blood. “I never wanted to be a serpent either… I only ever… I told you what I wanted… after… after you killed Ninazu.”

“To be mortal?” Tiamat’s eyes quivered, and threatened to spill tears out further. “But then you would-”

“Die… yes.” It clumsily swung its head back up and against its mother’s chest, listening to her heartbeat. “In a few decades, maybe. But it would be better than this eternal torment.”

“And… and what of Jesh?” She curled around it further, protecting it from the view of nonexistent onlookers. “Responsibility of him should fall to you, as Shanu had no siblings or other children…”

“You can take him. He is a smart boy. He will honor you well,” Kishar shut its eyes tight, and basked in the warmth and safety of the deity. The irony of it feeling safe with her of all people almost made it sick, but it would take what it could get. “One child for another. I know you will be lonely without Dis.”

“But- but I will be losing another…” Tiamat sniffled.

“I will not die yet. You can… you can always take more. Please, Mother.” It prepared for the ultimate plea. Its strength was fading far too fast after losing so much of its vitality. “Let me go. Give me what I bargained with you for, all those years ago…”

“And you would be happier like that? You would have no element, no innate magic…”

“I’d rather be an empty vessel than be burning from the inside…” It was finally beginning to drift off. “I simply… desire… to be mortal.”

Nintinugga sat upon the roof of its home, in Fellrock, watching from a distance as the sun rose. Today would be transformation day for Jesh. Disaeite’s chosen could not be recovered, and instead… Jesh would be turning alone this year. A tragedy such as this had shaken the entire family. Changes were being made to the entire operation of the academy. Chosen were no longer to go in knowing their dragon parent’s purpose for them.

Tiamat had agreed to take Jesh as her own, and so it was a great celebration that another first generation dragon would be joining the family. Nintinugga’s house would belong to the boy, once he was ready for it. The former dragon would have no need for it now.

The sun had finally crested the horizon. Every dragon atop the ziggurat, there for the spectacle, leaned in closer. It must be time, then. From here, Nintinugga could neither hear the ritual, or see Tiamat, as her spells obscured her from the city below. That was fine. It was only waiting to see the new dragon crest those steps, whether he managed to walk them himself, or had to be carried down.

A ripple among the crowd. Their expressions were so difficult to make out from here. Mortal senses were so dull in comparison. It flicked a tongue between its lips. At least it would retain some sense of smell, at least in comparison to humans.

It had known without hesitation what form it would want to take as a mortal: a mamba, once again. No one would suspect it now. Serpentfolk were far too common. It would simply be another face in the crowd. It wouldn’t want it any other way.

A mind felt against its own: Tiamat. “Yes, Mother?”

“I thought you might want to see him,” was the simple reply, and she briefly shared her senses with her now-mortal child. A fledgling dragon was laid bare before it, golden and resplendent, just like the pendant that Shanu had gifted his son… and given Kishar credit for.

“He is beautiful, mother.” The snake grabbed its bag, and started for the stairs down into the courtyard. Its business in the city was concluded. Perhaps it would one day return. Perhaps it may not. There were far more uncertainties when one was no longer eternal.

“He has chosen a name as well. Aurjeule. Just like the pendant you both gifted him.” Nintinugga could feel her presence following it as the snake pushed out the courtyard door, and onto the streets of the ministry complex.

“A fitting title. May he act as a protective charm for mortalkind.” The mamba nodded, with a subtle smile. Its feet were beginning to hurt already. It seemed this new body would have the same issues that fledgling dragons had. It would need to exercise to reach par compared to other mortals. It relished the prospect.

“Promise you’ll pray if you ever need my help, and to let me know how you’re doing!” It was beginning to feel as if it had a little dragon riding along on its shoulder now. “I know I sound overbearing, basically asking you to write…”

“I will continue to pray, Mother.” Nintinugga nodded, a fuller smile gracing its lips. It was already passing by the gates of the ministry complex, and pivoting towards the docks. It had already booked a ship off of Fellrock and to the north. It still had no plan for when it got there, but it had plenty of coin, and magical expertise. Perhaps it could start an herbalist’s shop? Or perhaps it would simply build a cabin in the outskirts of some small fishing village in the countryside. Its options had never felt more infinite, despite its own newfound finite nature.

“Then all I can do from here is wish you luck, and remind you: my love will be with you until this world fades as an ember in a bonfire, even if you fade first, Nintinugga.” A pause. “I am sorry. I hope you find your happiness out there.” And with that, her presence withdrew, and the mamba was left alone with its own thoughts, and its infinite possibilities.