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Memoirs of Dragora

Chapter 14: Love's Escutcheon

Dragora woke up feeling a bit better than when he fell asleep, but he didn't bother to move for fear of where the pain might hit. He just laid there, looking up to the covered sky, smiling to see everyone had built him a lean-to for protection against rain and sunlight. Suddenly he felt a breeze lower than where he usually felt it and his member perked up in response. Seeing the prank played on him, he sat up cautiously and saw he was indeed nude, but there was a set of clothes with a note.

"'Courtesy of Couerili' how quaint, apparently my clothes weren't good enough..." Dragora sighed to himself, always liking his mini cloth vest and unique pants, "If these aren't regal they're gonna give me supplies to create my clothes again dammit."

He tried the garments on and instantly liked the feel of the velvet and suede clothes, and instantly came to the conclusion they were indeed regal in design. They felt a bit heavy to his liking, with the garments being layered and braid-stitched, but he finally gave himself a few minutes before putting on the rest of the clothes over his bandaged and beaten body. He laid down and looked the other way, and he saw an extremely well crafted armor laying before his eyes, also with a note.

"'If you don't like the regal wear, I made this to protect you, at least until your wounds heal, probably even longer. I know how you liked your clothes so I made the armor to your preferences. Sincerely, Zerion' this is more to my liking..." The draconian said giddily as he looked at the heap in front of him.

Finally building up the strength to function, he got up and put on the tight-fitting clothes, followed by the chain mail, then the over-armor. The shape was light and complimenting to his movements, and he looked around for a reflective surface. Setting a conjured tower shield against the cliff-side, he stood back to admire the armor. It was very to the point, with full plate arm and leg protection, and the torso was in a splint design, but only completely covering his upper torso and covering his abs, leaving his side and lower back free to move completely.

"Well, that isn't the slightest bit seductive at all... I guess you do know exactly how I like my apparel." Dragora tittered to himself, thanking Zerion in his mind.

He walked out of the lean-to, seeing they were at the entrance of a canyon and the caravan was nowhere to be found. Looking around and panicking a little, he picked up his conjured tower shield and summoned a rapier to defend himself should enemies be nearby. He suddenly heard a yell from behind him and he sidestepped a gigantic pace to the right, leaving the marauder to land his hammer on the ground and look up, stunned from the quick movement. Dragora hit his shield with the butt of the sword and smirked, provoking the marauder to lunge again. His bait worked and this time the assailant was met by a powerful thrust through the hammer arm, making him drop his weapon in agony. Dragora cringed in pain as his wounds began to feel inflamed.

"Gah... I can't fight in this condition..." He panted, setting the bloodied tip of the fine sword at rest on the ground.

"Come on! Just finish me already! I'm useless now..." The bandit shouted, grimacing in pain and trying to pick up his weapon in the other hand.

"Gimme a sec, I've got my own wounds dammit..." Dragora retorted, lifting up his sword and lunging at the attacker clumsily.

"This is useless, we're both too injured to fight, let alone kill one another..." The marauder said after repelling two more lunges.

"I-I need to take a moment, these wounds are catching up fast." Dragora replied bluntly, dropping his shield to the ground and holding his stomach, trying to relieve the pain by putting pressure on the wound, "We crossed the unfinished bridge to Sylphistrine in our caravan and I apparently was thrown around more than anyone else... I have injuries all over, but since that sabotaging incident my stomach's been in pain."

"I heard about that commotion, you guys also broke a 200 person siege by charging through the gates and barraging over most of them..." The bandit said, driving the pointed end of the war hammer into the ground, "They were a rival group, so I guess I should be thanking you rather than fighting you." The would-be attacker finished.

"Here, rip some cloth off of that lean-to and patch yourself up, we'll pretend this never happened and I'll say I stumbled on my way out..." Dragora replied, stabbing the ground to get the sword to stay in place.

The bandit tended to his wound a little bit, his Canine instincts kicking in as he licked the wound before ripping of some cloth from the makeshift shelter and tied it around his arm above the wound. Dragora pulled out the hammer and handed it to the German shepherd out of common courtesy and let the bandit go on his way.

"No one was killed and he was merely injured for his actions, anything is better than another death." Dragora thought in his mind as he went back into the shelter to rest once more.

Zerion, who was holding his rapier and seemed to be struggling with the weight slightly, waked him up.

"Where were you guys? I woke up earlier and didn't see anyone here." Dragora asked, relieved to see he wasn't forgotten again.

"We went back to town. Did someone try attacking you perchance? The tip of your sword is covered in blood." Zerion retorted, finally setting the blade on the ground before Dragora.

"Yes, a bandit attacked, but I could only injure him before I couldn't fight anymore. We called a truce and he went on his way, neither of us could fight in our conditions." Dragora answered explanatively, looking at himself and feeling weak.

"Well, come on, I know I made that armor light, let's get you into the caravan, and unsummon your equipment will you? It weighs a ton..." Zerion stated, picking up Dragora gently, being sure not to disturb the bandages and wounds on the draconian's body.

Zerion set Dragora on his feet for a moment and opened the door, proceeding to carry the weakened draconian in his arms to the passenger seat installed right beside the front seat. He set Dragora in the seat gently, strapping him in with silk and leather straps, making sure not to tighten them to much before calling everyone else in. Everyone took one of the slightly remodeled seats, each having it's own strap system to keep everyone safe and securely in place. After everyone was strapped in, Zerion began maneuvering the caravan to head the canyon, with their destination on the other side.

Dragora looked around, seeing that he was surrounded by snow. He looked around and saw nothing but white, throwing him into a slight worry about not knowing his bearings. He called out for his friends but only heard an echo come from behind him. Dragora continued shouting out into the white, gently blowing snow that landed on his muzzle, making him shiver despite the snow being lukewarm. As he proceeded to the source of the echoes, the temperature started changing suddenly, and he found himself shivering to keep moving forward, yet the snow remained it's current temperature. Finally he saw a grand crag of crystal appear into the horizon the entrance seeming to be the source of the chilling breeze. The wind was blowing harder as he moved on, warming him up from the snow collecting on his heavy leather collar and gloves. Finally at the entrance, the gates gave a powerful gust of frigid that blew off the draconian's coat, but he proceeded onward through the gates, feeling warm air within. He kept moving forward through the hallowed halls, wondering why the snow persisted to fall even indoors. He stopped at a large pair of doors, with one being already slightly opened. Giving it cautious thought, he proceeded in, to be greeted by great-spear pointed at his neck.

"Who are you, and why do you invade my castle?" A voice boomed from across the dark hall, leaving Dragora curious as to who this glacier-carved lechatelierite structure belonged to.

"I'm Dragora, and I don't know why, I was lost in the snow and the only echo I heard came from the direction of your castle." Dragora replied feebly, knowing the spear could impale his throat at this voice's whim.

"Only those who lose themselves and follow the echo of their heritage can find this place... Welcome Dragora, fellow draconian and rightful heir to the throne of Dawn!" The voice boomed once more, the spear lowering and the hall lighting up to reveal an entire civilization of dragon-kin beginning to kneel before him, "Sorry for taking over the throne in your family's absence, but the people needed someone to guide them. Please, allow me to make it up to you by fetching your symbol of status and heirlooms..."

"Wait, what? King? Heirlooms? Symbol of status? I thought my father was a sage..." Dragora blurted out confused, being pushed along by a rather tall reptile gently toward the hall to the left.

"I'm guessing your father never told you, he was the rightful heir to the throne, but he refused: said his place was in the new colony and that his future lineage depended on it. That being said, you are the heir to the throne due to your older brother unexpectedly going missing. As for heirlooms, your father's sword wasn't the only artifact to your name, there was also your 3 suits of armor: one for you and two for a pair of personal guards, your weapons: being the sword you carry now, a rather large but well balanced pair of scissor-katars, and a rather ornate staff." The draconian that was smaller than Dragora said energetically.

"And perhaps a crown for status I'm assuming?" Dragora replied, still perplexed by how this little man could have such a loud voice.

"Nope, try again." The draconian said, making a sharp right turn.

"A ring or necklace? And who are you anyway?" Dragora asked inquisitively, taking another turn to follow the dragon-kin in front of him.

"Still no, and I'm your adviser, Auberlinz." The adviser replied bluntly.

"Okay... shoes, pants, shirt, gloves, hat, or even underwear?" Dragora replied playfully, wondering whatever the symbol could be.

"You'll never guess at this rate, but we're here anyway, only descendants of your lineage can play the Dusk Harp." Auberlinz retorted enthusiastically, motioning for Dragora to step inside and sit down on the embroidered and very comfortable stool in front of a set of tracks, "You'll be fine sitting on that for now, but this thing is too big to be played like that."

Dragora pondered over whether he should try playing or not, for he never had touched an instrument before apparently now, because the grand instrument came out on the set of tracks being pulled by the straining adviser. He marveled at the beauty of the crystal bodied string instrument and walked toward it instinctively.

"The harp will only make a sound when it's played by the king or an heir, for it is carved by the same hands that carved these halls; your ancestors, thus it also shares a similar latent magic that your sword has." Auberlinz explained intricately, seeing Dragora close his eyes and settle his hands on the strings, "I've never heard it all my years, it would be marvelous to hear it the same day as the coronation..."

Dragora began plucking gently and unsurely, the sound reflective his mind. After hearing this, he cleared his mind of doubt and began playing again, this time the sound being pure and harmonic, echoing through the entire castle, and dispelling the snow that had stopped suddenly. The sound continued, melting all the snow around the kingdom, revealing the buried houses and beautiful green fields that hid under it. The citizens themselves also began humming and singing the melody that purified the crystal until the crag became almost lucid except for around certain rooms, such as the treasure rooms, bedrooms, library, floors, and ballroom.

Suddenly Dragora opened his eyes and saw he was back in his seat in the caravan, surrounded with everyone looking at him in curiosity.

"What? I dozed off, I'm sorry..." Dragora admitted, embarrassed at being the center of attention.

"It wasn't that you were asleep, it's what was going on physically... first you were shivering and felt extremely cold then you warmed up suddenly." Slypnir replied quickly.

"That tune... so you know then, you know the responsibility you were born with..." Nij stated, a lone tear coming to his eye.

"Why didn't you tell me? If I were to find out sooner or later, why didn't you come out in the first place?" Dragora asked directly to Nijraketo, seeing guilt in his eyes.

"Tell you what? What's going on, I can't take my eyes off of the path right now, all I heard was you humming something after snoring and keeping me up." Zerion questioned to the group behind him as he navigated the caravan carefully along a cliff path leading down to an expansive plain bordered by mountains on one side and coastline on the other.

"I'm royalty... I'm the king of Dawn..." Dragora replied bluntly, causing Zerion to hit the breaks suddenly and jerking everyone toward the front.

"What? Okay, first you're a hero, and now you're the king of a forgotten kingdom? The lands of Dawn, nor the borders for that matter, even exist." Slypnir pointed out, seeing seriousness in Dragora's face and Nij hanging his head down, looking at the floor of the caravan.

"But they do, Dauntae's freezer wasn't always a frozen wasteland, that was to protect the kingdom from attackers, to bury it's name in history and be nothing but myth, but the Dusk Harp can dispel that spell and bring Dawn to it's former glory. That dock was protected as a hint, the broken fort in front of it being draconic masonry." Couerili stated, smirking as if she knew all along.

"How did you know this?" Slypnir asked inquisitively, Nij's head also shooting up and eying the cheetah with a cold and collected stare that made her turn away in discomfort.

"I'm... I'm the arch-mage that helped blanket Dawn, Farresetia. I've been under the name Couerili to throw off pursuers. I wanted to make sure Dragora was the heir before I revealed my true identity." Farresetia explained, Nijraketo's stare turning into wide grin.

"I thought you looked familiar! I can't believe I forgot who the arch-mage was..." Nij stated happily, remembering one of his most trusted advisers and mages.

"Of course you did, you had me erase any specific names from your memory, or at least lock them away. And now we'll be able to restore Dawn to the maps, reawaken the people, and gather up an army that could take on any mercenary." Farresetia retorted giddily, the thought of her homeland being revived.

"Wait, I thought Dawn was the draconian kingdom?" Slypnir said, confused at how a cheetah was in a high position in a draconic court.

"Dawn held two continents with a just, iron rule that made the people prosper. During that land grab, many different cultures blended and thrived, for your king here had a good and just belief that everyone is balanced by nature, where ones who lack in physique are often strong minded and strong willed, and those who lack mental power are the most able for important jobs. This led to the supreme age of the empire-"

"-Where economy was golden, people were respected, even I walked among the people to prove that point, and I enjoyed every moment of it, it's how I found Farresetia here." Nij said, finishing the cheetah's explanation.

"So how am I the ruler if your are? I guess it would be best that way, I can't do politics and battle an empire at the same time..." Dragora stated, relieved to see his father more enthusiastic about the position than himself.

"My time has passed. Once I stepped down, it was permanent, but if you want, I can assist your adviser, as I told him he would be in control until I return." Nij replied, sure that the adviser would willingly go along with the idea.

"That sounds fine, Auberlinz seems like a decent person. He was definitely enthusiastic about hearing the harp, said he didn't hear it in his life-time, didn't you play the harp at coronation?" Dragora asked Nij, still confused about customs.

"Actually, I couldn't... when I tried, it sounded horrible because my mind was unclear, but based on how you hummed the melody, I'm guessing you know how to play it purely." Nij retorted, looking hopefully to his son to lift the spell over the forgotten kingdom.

"There's a catch though, the magic used was extremely powerful, once you play... no doubt anyone who is tied to magic will feel it's release throughout the world, meaning the tundra near Aerinia will also melt, thus every mage will know when Dawn awakens once more. The repercussion of this is that everyone will feel it, no matter allegiance or affinity, so the mages in the UMU will also feel the awakening." Farresetia stated bluntly, making sure Dragora was down to earth on the situation.

"Then shouldn't we try gathering other forces first? If we alert them to our plans how do we know they will not act?" Dragora questioned, thinking of the allies they could earn.

"True, but no one will listen to a prophet with no truth behind his words: if we release the magic, all the mages will listen, they cannot deny when a powerful magic has been dispelled." Farresetia reasoned, knowing how skeptical some royal court mages can be.

"Aerinia will support us, of that I'm certain. Sylphistrine... is out of the picture, the two nobles in the desert will mount a movement as well, perhaps if we can convince the released spirits of Krjn we'll have another edge in battle besides ancient weapons." Slypnir stated, knowing that the trio was respected in Aerinia and no doubt them hearing of ancient royalty among the trio would be the spark they needed.

The debating continued as Zerion approached the coastline of Claw Bay, where Dragora's ship was docked to be upgraded. The gates to the industrial town open in a grand manner as they drove through, catching the eyes of the workers, bosses, and inventors that lined the streets and alleys. Soon enough, a small crowd was following the curious caravan, it not being pulled by manticores and fortified enough to take on a city. To the citizens eyes they were looking at something invincible, but in inventors' eyes, they saw inspiration to strengthen their armies. Finally the party pulled into the dock area, with the walkways and bollards lined with merchant ships, except for one. Dragora told Zerion to take a left into the nearest waterside warehouse and saw Dragora's prized ship almost done being modified.

"Lazy bastards, said they'd have it done bout two weeks ago... well, looks like I'm off to work then!" Dragora said optimistically, seeing a chance to work on his pride.

"Ohh no you don't, you're taking it easy, just direct us on where to put things an' stuff." S'kria said firmly, putting his hand on Dragora's shoulder and pulling toward himself slightly to get the eager draconian back in his seat, "You've taken enough injuries for a lifetime, now start taking it easy, trust in us."

"Fine... But if something goes out of hand I'm jumping in!" Dragora replied, feeling teased for not being able to work on his own ship.

Dragora's ship, the "Wind-hymn" had been refitted with Tyralthium plating on the outside over ebony wood, and the inside being redone to hold 20 passengers or 30 standard crates. Dragora looked over the almost finished ship and began giving out instructions that became more precise as he went on. Soon enough, the rest of the plating was sealed on, the spacious deck had 4 deeply grooved notches for the wheels of the caravan to fit into, and the ship's packing had been refitted to hold 10 people and 15 extra crates comfortably. Dragora took to a wooden plaque and began etching into it, and after he was done he hung it over the door to the captain's cabin proudly and began etching away at the still slightly rough rails throughout the ship. After Dragora was done, the stair rails had a deep spiral cut with a smooth surface, and the normal guardrails had deep swirls engraved into them.

"Now it's done... Alright! Let's start getting that caravan on here!" Dragora ordered, seeing the vehicle start to move slowly toward the ship.

"At this rate it won't fit, we need to widen the gangplank and entryway." Slypnir said to Dragora cautiously.

"Hold it! I think you're right..." Dragora trailed off, conjuring up a katana to his side.

"Why not just use an-...ax..." Slypnir finished after Dragora already cut through the wood cleanly and was now just smoothing out the edge with a knife.

"Keep it coming! It'll fit now, I'm sure of it." Dragora commanded, seeing the caravan start moving again.

The caravan fit neatly onto the ship and into the notches, already beginning to be secured in place by everyone outside of the vehicle. Zerion jumped out and started helping as well, tightening the straps as tight as he could.

"Alright, that should be secure enough. Zerion, you wanna play scout or turret?" Dragora asked, knowing in his mind already Zerion would choose the turret.

"I'll take turret, haven't had a chance to try firing this thing yet." Zerion replied, seeing a knowing grin flash across Dragora's face.

"In that case, I'll be in the crow's nest then." Slypnir replied eagerly, relieved to not be behind a cannon.

"Alright. Everyone man your stations!" Dragora ordered, opening the portcullis to let the rather armored ship catch the current out.

S'kria guided the ship out while Dragora jumped back on with ease, heading over to the sails and letting them catch the gust of wind Slypnir summoned to see a smile broaden across his companion's face. The ship was already far enough out to only see the city on the horizon by the time Dragora finished rigging and headed over to the helm, seeing it being unmanned and S'kria walking toward the starboard bow, looking out to the vast blue. Nij was leaning over the port edge, trying to adjust to movement and rocking with little success. Zerion was eagerly playing with switches, enjoying himself immensely from the whole experience of firing the powerful cannon off into the sea. Slypnir found the spyglass in an intricate compartment in the sturdy roofed roost, and began feeling along all the walls for other neat storage nooks that Dragora had put in there. Midnight, Luxi, Farresetia were down below, inspecting the cargo that was already packed before they started unpacking the caravan and moving supplies down into the hold. To their surprise, it was very strictly organized, with signs over each section to indicate what goes where, and of course, the liquor being well stocked with kegs and barrels from all over the world.

"You have quite a selection down in the hold, I'm guessing you are going to deliver a shipment before we actually head to Dawn?" Midnight asked cautiously, half-hoping it was just Dragora's personal stock.

"Actually no, after an almost botched smuggling shipment I retired from the sea, would you be so kind as to bring out the spiced rum to start off?" Dragora answered eagerly, his eyes now locked ahead with anticipation of a Lothgrenier patrol ship they could sink.

"Wait, you smuggled stuff? I thought you were an honest trader..." Luxi replied, baffled by the discovery.

"Only part-time when there was nothing to be had in terms of running honest goods, and there was the occasional pirating, but I was an honest person nonetheless. I made sure to only knock the victims out and neutralize them, any mate I caught firing intentionally at people was severely punished if not executed." Dragora replied in a serious tone, then relaxing into a smile remembering the runs from Claw Bay to the other side of the world.

"You were quite the captain in your day weren't you? Farresetia replied coming up the hold.

"You should know, I've escorted you at least 6 times, not to mention those shipments as favors..." Dragora replied bluntly, making the cheetah blush in embarrassment to how many favors she owed the draconian for escorts of her and her supplies, "you should especially remember that one time when a fleet ca-"

"Yes I remember, no need to go into detail..." the cheetah replied, blushing wildly at this point, "I know I'm making up at least three for this whole thing, which leaves me with... 24... you know, I really didn't know how to keep track of things back then."

"Come on, tell us what happened during that one trip when the fleet came." Luxi burst out in humorous curiosity.

"Well, we were doing an honest trade route when we were attacked. A fleet, flaunting Lothgrenier flags no less, decided to do a "cargo raid" or in other words, daylight robbery. Anyway, I wouldn't put up with it and fired. In the end I protected all of Farresetia's cargo, which was a daunting 6 supply ships, and damn near scuttled mine." Dragora explained lively to the eager group, for Nij also perked up interest, as well as Slypnir kneeling down and Zerion cocking his head to the side at an angle toward him.

At this point Farresetia was as flushed as could be and shied away quietly, already knowing the story first-hand, plus some. Nij seemed to have gained his bearings somewhat and was able to walk around rather than be slung over the side of the ship. Zerion just looked forward again and started tinkering, laughing a little to himself, for knowing there was more to his love than met the eye. Slypnir was used to the more gentle side of Dragora and took a moment to process the story, wondering if there was more to it.

The ship continued sailing toward Dauntae's freezer, with glaciers and drifts of ice becoming more common as Dragora at first dodged them, then just started plowing through them. Slypnir spotted a hut off to the west and saw that Dragora seemed to be intentionally avoiding it for what reason he didn't know. Zerion also saw the hut as well as Nij, who was examining the rigging and how it was done.

"Dragora, the hut's right over there, don't you want your wings?" Nij asked quietly after approaching the draconian straining to keep looking forward.

"We'll go there after I play the harp and get rid of this ice." Dragora replied in a serious tone, accidently hinting fear into his voice.

"What's wrong?" Nij retorted quickly, picking up the subtle dread in his son's voice.

"I had a nightmare and I don't want to chance it." Dragora answered bluntly, feeling prodded and wanting to change the subject.

"There's no need to feel uncomfortable about telling me what's going on, we're traveling together aren't we?" Nij asked, noticing Dragora starting to look uncomfortable.

"We were headed toward the island, when a sea monster came out and devoured the ship. Most of my dreams have been premonitions, have they not? I want to avoid this encounter at all costs if I can..." Dragora snapped defensively, still feeling prodded, but looking down in regret at releasing fear induced rage on a merely curious innocent.

"Sorry if I upset you, I just wanted to know what was bothering you and why you were so determined not to notice island." Nij replied gently, thinking he may have gone a little to deep into his son's mind.

"He's right about the sea monster, as widely known as Ohteskhri is among scholars, they know little of his defense system and test to see who's worthy. But by the sound of it, we didn't have that giant cannon on the boat in your dream, and I know Zerion's got an itchy finger to test it on something real." Farresetia stated, finishing loudly so the draconian in the turret's ears perked up excitedly.

"I hope Zerion can fire that thing fast and accurately then. Everyone steady yourselves, I'm pivoting the ship!" Dragora commanded, turning the ship sharply through the ice drifts toward the island.

"Wait, I remember now, Dragora's dream..." Slypnir gasped to himself, now realizing why his companion tried so hard to avoid it.

The drifted slowly toward the island, with Dragora turning the helm over to Farresetia so he could die down the sails to let the ship only cruise toward the foreboding islet. Dragora gave the signal to halt the ship and went over to Zerion, giving him instructions on what to do. Slypnir used the spyglass to inspect the water around the hut intently, indeed seeing the water on the shores considerably darker than around into deeper waters. Nij knelt down on the bow behind the front cannon, keeping the primer tip glowing for a quick shot. Farresetia was preparing to cast avidly while Midnight had a great bow ready. Luxi went below deck alongside S'kria, with neither of them being fighters in nature and not wanting to witness the battle that was bound to happen. Suddenly Dragora went inside the caravan and shut the door, and Zerion began firing at the waters around the island. The waters rose and bubbled over a large figure emerging, finally breaking the surface tension and sending waves rippling in all directions. The crew rained all kinds of weapons down upon the large vanguard, arrows and cannon shells lodging into the great beast's skin, ripping through it's fins and flaking off countless scales quicker than it could react. As the monster began reeling up to suck in the ship, Dragora Shouted a command out from inside the caravan for everyone to aim for the mouth. The arrows traced up the body until each one was striking the muscle behind the jaw bone, followed by heavy cannon fire piercing into it's mouth and causing it to delve back into the water as deep as it could go to heal. An old otter came out of the hut, waving for the ship to plow through the ice and come to shore to talk.

After everyone was done cheering, Dragora took up the helm after rigging the sails and headed further toward the island, happy to see his nightmare didn't come true and was just a warning. Luxi and S'kria came up from the hold, happy to see the fighting was over with and started running over to the port side bow, eager to set their legs to rest on solid land. Dragora dropped down the gangplank and started down first after anchoring the ship a little ways off due to the reef that was around the island as well, making everyone get their feet wet in order to reach the old otter.

"Ahh, so the former king returns, defeats my guardian, brings his youngest son, and mayhap lift the ice off of Dawn so I may return to my home there?" Ohteskhri asked happily, seeing the two purple-eyed draconians standing next to each other.

"Yes, but first, we were hoping you'd take care of something first..." Nij replied gently nudging Dragora forward encouragingly.

"We were hoping you could help his wings start growing again. The growth was stunted when he got a fever at the age of four, almost five." Slypnir stated firmly, trying to make an impression that they won't settle for otherwise.

"My my my, royalty getting sick is a rare thing indeed, how have you coped with such a hindrance?" the otter replied curtly, slightly ticking Dragora off in his mind.

"It wasn't a naturally caused fever, the curse over Krjn had a role to play in it..." Zerion retorted quickly, seeing Dragora's face get serious and him remain quiet.

"Ahh, so the young king had an adventurous will and got a little too curious... I SUPPOSE I could do something for you, on one condition." Ohteskhri stated in a sly tone, really ticking Dragora off in his mind.

"What would that be? We can give you a ride on Dragora's ship to Dawn if that's what you want..." Nij asked, looking to Dragora for support in the proposal and only seeing his scales getting flushed in frustration.

"Just a minor task, really... give me a plot of land say around 100 acres on the main continent..." Ohteskhri sighed in smugness, finally tipping Dragora over the edge.

"That's blowing it out of proportion! That's it, I've had enough of this smart-ass, let's go, I'm not giving up land that isn't even in the kingdom any more to some smug old bastard that probably can't even walk that far!" Dragora roared in anger, making everyone jump in surprise and S'kria backing up in fright.

"Ah-ha! That's what I was trying for, Your wings are still functional, just merely stunted in size." Ohteskhri replied gently, seeing the nubs on Dragora's back twinge back and forth in adrenaline.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Dragora asked aggressively, still wary of the sudden change of personality.

"Dragora, your wings are... moving? I never noticed that before now..." Slypnir gasped, baffled at the sight, thinking that the wings were completely stunted and just dead weight.

"Come inside, I shall do what I can to help them grow. But you must keep in mind, this will be no small tinge of pain, Draconians don't really fly until they've matured due to the pain of the wings growing." Ohteskhri stated cautiously, looking to see if Dragora still wanted to go along with it.

"I'm no novice to pain..." Dragora replied, taking off his upper armor while they went inside, revealing his scarred, beaten, and bandaged body to the otter, who was now looking to the rest of the group for an explanation.

"Most of it is recent, it was from a rough ride. Though the already made scars are throughout life." Slypnir explained quickly to Ohteskhri as they followed Dragora into the hut.

Dragora stopped fast, wondering where he was. Inside the hut through the doors was a grand abode, almost the size of 20 huts that Dragora saw outside. Everyone but Ohteskhri wondered why he stopped and went to look past him. Everyone stood amazed at the site, wondering how the house could have grown without the outside doing likewise, but Ohteskhri merely nudged everyone onward, mindful of Dragora's scathes.

"Oh wait, now I remember, this hut is just a conduit for a portal leading to your house in Dawn." Farresetia blurted out upon looking at the architecture of the abode, making Dragora start going for the door.

"I don't want to leave my ship behind! What if you're guardian wants a snack?" Dragora stated aloud, almost opening the door before Zerion picking him up similar to how S'kria did.

"It won't eat your ship, more rather guard it since it's past the radius." Ohteskhri replied quickly, calming the jumpy draconian down, "Now go lay on that table stomach first please."

"That might be difficult..." Slypnir replied hastily, lifting up Dragora's undershirt after Zerion set him back down to show the fresh scars that were there from the consecutive beatings he endured.

"Okay, lay on a side that is least damaged, but keep your back toward me." Ohteskhri retorted understandingly.

Dragora did as he was told, laying on his right side with his back toward the old otter. Farresetia and Nij both nudged the crowd back near the door to give the aged fur some room, with Slypnir and Zerion most reluctant and wanting to be there to hold their companion's hands. Ohteskhri started quickly, having Dragora drink a potion while he started saying an incantation, the draconian cringing in pain almost immediately. Dragora downed the potion, trying to get his mind off of the burning he felt in his back, but just cringed and let out small whimpers as the pain became more intense. The pain was starting to become too much for Dragora, as he started letting out roars and curses, but the group looked in awe as the nubs on the draconian's back starting growing and developing into wings, the muscles around shifting in response to support the new appendages.

Slypnir starting tearing up, hearing the cries and roars of pain out of his friend, and finally had to step out of the door onto the islet, the roars suddenly being nearly silenced and he cried to himself. Zerion was about to do the same, but the wings were almost fully-grown, with but the muscles to develop inside the tensing and flexing skin as Dragora's roars turned to whimpers and then an unnerving silence. When it was over with Dragora was still silent and Slypnir burst in to see if something happened. He ran over and held his companion's hands that were quivering and tried to look into the squinted-closed eyes. The wings on Dragora's back began flapping and stretching, flexing and folding in, what seemed involuntary at first eventually looked intentional as Dragora slowly opened up his eyes to be greeted by Slypnir's looking into them with concern.

"Are you alright? When the roars from over the frozen glacier stopped, I came in to see what happened..." Slypnir said quietly, gently hugging his half-conscious friend.

"I-I'm alright, just..." Dragora breathed heavily out before passing out from pain.

"His threshold was actually higher than I've ever seen... most couldn't even bear half-way before passing out." Ohteskhri stated worriedly, looking around for something to ease the pain for when the draconian woke up, "You wouldn't happen to have Desert Rose in that coat of yours, would you?"

"Actually yes, half my coat is filled with it from when we went to visit those nobles and I went regent collecting." Slypnir replied quickly, tossing a rather large, but light bag to the otter, "Could you tell me the recipe to that pain relief solution? I only know how to make balms, antidotes, and disinfectants..."

"It's 3 parts desert rose oil, 2 parts aloe oil, and 4 parts scorpion poison distilled. The only side-affect is he might be drowsy or a little out of it, so it's best to keep him in a bed facing toward a wall to give his new wings room to exercise and build up strength." Ohteskhri explained firmly to Slypnir, making sure he understood every part of the instructions.

The aged fur moved with dexterity, making four 3-dose pain relievers for Slypnir to hold securely in his coat while Zerion carried Dragora to the ship's hold and laid him on a medium level bunk to give his wings room between the roof and floor. After they were all on the ship again, Farresetia took the helm and steered the ship back toward Dawn, plowing the tyralthium shell once more through the ice.