she is already there. rarely is she not there now. ever since the penitentiary, she avoids her four walls like the plague, taking meetings amidst the snarling mass of dragons or within the expanse of the league's training facility, a bow or a sword in her hands. 

the sky still beckons. she ignores the calling, even though the ache has grown nigh unbearable. 

"caleb," she greets. aeris is at her side today, lyune nowhere to be seen. 

Caleb Harcourt

☉

she means to ask him to follow her. they'll get to the heart of their activities for the day, as they do every week, with snarling language interspersed between the clanging of metal on scales and metal on metal. but before that is a token of her loyalty, a test of his own devotion. 

it had been easier, surprisingly, with Roy Aker . she'd known as soon as the clutch was lain that one of them would end up in his care, but the other took time. at first, she debated raising it on her own, but she doesn't have the time needed for such devotion. 

there are few others she'd trust with something so important, something so intrinsically meaningful to her. 

but when he stops her and asks his question, she pauses, raises a brow at the redness on his face. it doesn't take much to put together the dragons he's asking about. 

"they've been spotted around the mirage islands," she says carefully. "but i - we - don't think they want to be found."

or they'd have come forward for us. 

Caleb Harcourt

☉

she recognizes that look in his eyes. it's different than hers was, not warped with self-desperation and a need to obliterate his body in unholy sacrament. yet it leaves a bad taste on her tongue, a hesitance to give anything more away. 

pulled in a dozen different directions, war looming closer, a calendar full of strategy meetings and paperwork, hours folded in on each other. she has no time to accompany him, no time to keep him from straying into darker territories. 

"not this time," she says. both of them knew what angelo fought for, and knew he'd allied himself with the league. no ill will had been left with them upon his departure, except perhaps the mourning of their chosen hanging up the mantle. 

"there are other ways, caleb, to be strong. avatarship, if that's what you're...it's not the end all, be all." she knows that better than anyone. she fought wo-chien and tapu fini and their chosen and she almost won. 

but the breeze dances around her and clouds roll over the sky. golds flicker upward, mouth quirking in irritation, her expression only barely hinting at the fear she feels. come, calls the sky, and she draws her shoulders up as shade stretches over them. 

"i wanted to give you something, before we started." she turns on her heels, expecting him to follow. 

the lift on the far side of the draciary takes them to the nesting caves up high. the caves for the salamence. her mouth is set and her glare is affixed upwards, willing the clouds not to drench them with rain. a drop spatters on her nose. 

"lyune sired a clutch," she says as the lift rattles to a stop and she steps out onto the rocky ledge, at ease despite the thin path and sheer drop several dozen feet to their right. 

Caleb Harcourt

☉

they would be stronger, and it's why she does not dissuade him from the quest. 

freya walks neatly along the drop's edge, one boot in front of the other, hands clasped at her back. the breeze tickles her sides, tugging at her hair. testing her, teasing her, beckoning her with the learned patience of a millennia. 

"they're not called children," she says with a laugh. "and yes, he's sired before. ori is one of his offspring. the rest died with my parents on the warfront."

her voice is factual. lyune does not mourn them as a human would. even now, he sleeps at the back of the cave, tired after the last of his hunts for the two surviving hatchlings. copper stains the inside of the cave. broken bits of egg lay scattered about. 

a single bagon hisses from behind a rock, wary of the newcomers. 

"her brother is already with my cousin."

lyune's eyes glow in the dark.

"i want you to take her."

Caleb Harcourt

☉

a bone crunches underfoot, its marrow sucked dry from gnashing teeth. freya keeps back, crouching low on the balls of her feet, watching with eyes that glow softly and reptilian in the dark. something stirs in her when caleb speaks her tongue.

golden cracks reverberate and she winces, cradling her temple. memories spill forth in snapshots - pieces of the other freya stitched together with pieces of herself.

she'd given lyune a part of herself too. 

the wind drifts under her limbs, calling, but she does not go to the mouth of the cave. she joins him, dipping fingers into memories, grasping the blade at her hip. the bagon does not move, does not flinch, as metal glints in the light. 

"ekess mavli," she whispers and her hand goes to caleb's wrist only it is not her hand. nor is it her mouth that chants: it is her mother's, it is her father's, and it is his, their, her legacy saying, "let her drink - blood of the tamer, blood of the tamed. ir mamiss, ir navnik, ir sugrart."

the blade presses to flesh, waiting to be fed.

Caleb Harcourt

☉

to endure is to suffer because you have a reason worth fighting for. to endure is to bleed. tiny white fangs are careful against flesh, tongue rasping at the shallow cut. some of it lingers on her lips, but she laps that away too with a flick, eyes dark. 

her own pupils warble at the sight, a monstrous keening in her spirit, made worse by the storm that's been gathering inside of her. 

mavli presses her silver head to caleb's palm and freya swallows, pain and pride vying for dominance on her face. eventually, when she trusts her words, she puts a hand on his shoulder and says, "and she is yours."

Caleb Harcourt

☉

flashes skirt by. sounds of claws scraping against stone, teeth on hide, scale on flesh. she feels the water and fog on her skin and thunder peals in the near distance. COME, commanded with a gust of wind at the outcropping, snatching at her braids, her tunic. 

she steps closer to caleb, shoving aside the weight in her mind with thoughts of home, and of the little bagon clutched so tenaciously in the man's arms. 

and the god of dragons relents, for the moment.

lyune gathers himself, wings tucked tight to fit in the manmade cave, and chuffs a disappointed whorl of smoke at his trainer. his tail flicks with impatience, but he pauses long enough to regard caleb, to blink slowly, and then pass through. 

his claws grate against the mouth of the cave, sending pebbles raining below, and when half of his body has emerged, he slides his wings out and lifts into the sky. 

"you'll do well with her," she says as she backs against the wall and slides down. anxiety teethes at her insides. 

Caleb Harcourt

☉