Chapter 5

“You said I was ‘gross’ a few days ago,” Hejinmal said.

“I did,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “Now give me my instrument.”

“Eh…”

Hejinmal placed the magical drum on the floor between them and Ilyshn’ish carefully drew it towards herself with a claw. Inhaling the rich aroma of the enchanted instrument, she felt the tension in her mind ease away. It was already stressful enough that she had been deprived of her hoard – the histories, manuals, records and maps within her humble lair stripped away entirely – and losing yet another precious treasure would have surely driven her over the edge or turned her utterly despondent like the other Frost Dragons of the enclave. Why was her brother so damnably upbeat anyways?

“Mother,” Ilyshn’ish asked, “has Hejinmal gone insane after all that has happened?”

“Your brother is…not the same anymore, daughter,” Kilistran answered.

“I’m still me,” Hejinmal protested, “you make it sound as if I’ve been transformed into something else entirely!”

“The you of times past would certainly have not agreed,” Kilistran returned. “Everyone who has watched you for the past few days recognizes this.”

“He still seems like a weakling to me…” Ilyshn’ish gave her brother a dubious once-over.

“That is not surprising,” their mother said, “coming from you. You’ve heeded my wisdom and made your way far ahead of the others – but you’ll see just how your brother has really changed soon enough.”

Kilistran yawned widely, shifting back into her pen. Ilyshn’ish’s mother showed little energy, not even reacting to the valuable drum that was passed right in front of her.

“Hejinmal, be a dear and let your sister know what’s going on. I don’t feel like much of anything anymore these days…”

Ilyshn’ish’s scales rippled in disgust as she watched the despondent Kilistran tuck in her head and close her eyes. She could detect no sign of the proud and cunning female that she long considered a role model for herself; the ambitious Frost Dragon matriarch who had set her children on the paths of power and knowledge. Even now, Ilyshn’ish openly agreed that her own strength relative to the others in her generation was in no small part due to her mother’s encouragement, and seeing her current state was disquieting, to say the least.

She scowled down at the drum from the Dwarf treasury. How could an entire population of Dragons turn into a pitiful group that resembled nothing more than chattel in such a short period?

“If you would like somewhere to put that,” Hejinmal said, “maybe we should start by finding a place for you to stay.”

Ilyshn’ish turned away from her discomforting observations, narrowing her eyes at her brother.

“You want to stick me in one of these pens?” Her icy tone set Hejinmal back a few paces, “Actually, there’s a mountain range to the south near here: it seems a much better place to stay – better than these…accommodations, anyways.”

“Actually,” Hejinmal said, “they only made the hoardings large enough for those of us that came initially. I’m not sure what they’ll find for you. They probably won’t let you just go around as you please – we should check and see what sort of arrangements they can come up with.”

“They won’t let me?” Ilyshn’ish furrowed her brow, “I don’t see anything that can stop me.”

She lashed her tail over the frozen stones, and her front claws idly drew long furrows before her. Hejinmal gave her a long look.

“Sister, it’s really not a good idea to display that sort of attitude around here,” he said carefully. “Can’t you tell from how all the others are behaving?”

“I can tell that they’re not worthy of being called Dragons anymore,” she sniffed, “if that’s what you’re saying. Why that is is beyond me. You say that there are some powerful individuals around, but all I see are these pasty Undead females wandering about like Quagoa.”

“Mother was right,” Hejinmal sighed, “you’re in for quite a bit of suffering if you plan on learning the hard way.”

“You mean the easy way?”

“Well, yes, I suppose that’s practically correct,” he tapped a pair of talons on the stone lightly. “Ilyshn’ish, you said to me earlier that it’s a good thing that I finally understood what father meant by his words to me. Mother is far more cunning than father ever was, even on his best days, so it would be a good thing to heed her words before something unfortunate befalls you.”

Ilyshn’ish peered at Hejinmal suspiciously. They got along well enough as far as brood mates went, but it was the first time that he had expressed anything like concern over her well-being.

“This newfound care for my health is quite unsettling, brother,” she said. “What are you plotting?”

Hejinmal let out a nervous laugh, and she tried to ignore his jiggling as he did so. Dragons weren’t even supposed to jiggle – she once again wondered just how he got this way.

“Ahaha…was I that obvious?” He asked.

“Rather than obvious,” she answered, “I’ve never heard you speak this way to anyone before. Spit it out.”

“Alright,” he cleared his throat in an annoyingly drawn-out way. “You’ve learned how to take on the appearance of Dwarves and things like that, yes?”

“Go on…”

“Yes, well, I thought I could ask you to look around in the Human city, as a Human or something along those lines. This place is a centre of trade, like Feoh Berkana once was, and many things from the world pass through here. With your magic, you can go in amongst them and find books and things that we’ve never seen before.”

That sounded a lot more like her brother. If he required her to perform tasks he knew only she was capable of, then his cautionary words to her would at least have some tangible motive behind them. It was something she had planned on doing for herself, anyway, once she decided it was safe enough to do so. If she could get him to owe her a few favours along the way…

“Fine,” she said, and Hejinmal heaved a sigh of relief. “I will see where this leads me for now. By the way, brother: I hope you don’t plan on shutting yourself in again. This flimsy wall is nothing like Dwarven architecture – it will collapse eventually if you keep…expanding like that.”

“Ah, no, they wouldn’t let us do anything like that anyways,” he replied. “Besides, now that I know, I know, yes? Plus with these bags that we all get, I can carry my books with me and read on the fly.”

The reminder that there were other things that she could get her claws on mollified her irritation over the whole situation somewhat. The Undead female had mentioned that there were ‘other articles’ as well. If a small amount of her time could net her great gains with little risk, then all the better since she was going to take her time exploring the city with this apparent shelter near at hand anyways.

“One of those Undead said that there were other things that came along with those bags,” she said. “Do you have them as well?”

“Hmm…yes,” Hejinmal’s belly scraped over the floor as he turned to head towards the table at the entrance. “Adults like us receive four Infinite Haversacks. We all also receive a Periapt of Health, Ring of Regeneration, Ring of Sustenance and Greater Ring of Fire Resistance. In addition, there are several Message scrolls provided for communications purposes.”

Ilyshn’ish’s mind worked as he listed off the treasures. They had never entered into her possession before, but they were items seemingly similar to the ones listed occasionally in the ledgers of Feoh Berkana during the peak of its prosperity – except for the Greater Ring of Fire Resistance, but she decided it was just a more powerful version of that sort of accessory.

“There must be some catch to all of this,” she said as she padded after her brother. “Why is everyone getting these? How do they even have so many? It makes absolutely no sense that anyone would think to make even one of us any stronger.”

“Because they are so much stronger that it doesn’t matter,” Hejinmal replied simply. “Everyone is getting these because they believe us so weak that we will eventually perish without them. They are not a tribute, nor are they gifts: just a practical consideration for the times that lie ahead of us. Ah, excuse me…”

Hejinmal called out to the Vampire Bride holding the clipboard, who was walking in the opposite direction. She had several of the same bags that Ilyshn’ish had seen on Hejinmal slung over her shoulders. At his voice, she turned her head to look up at them as they approached.

“What can I do for you?” She said.

“Do you have a place for my sister to stay?” Hejinmal asked, “I’m still showing her around, but she has something to put away.”

The Vampire Bride twirled her pen in her fingers as she looked along the row of pens. The pen stopped, and she looked back up again.

“This way, please,” she said.

She led them back over to the entrance with the desk. At the end of the hoardings, there was a large door, which the Vampire Bride pushed open. She stepped back and gestured towards the doorway.

Ilyshn’ish and Hejinmal stretched their necks to peer inside. The length was about the same as the pens that housed the other dragons, but it was only half the width. Several brushes, mops, brooms and buckets were stored at the back of the room, and a long, hanging shelf with towels and boxes placed upon it ran along one of the walls.

“Well, it’s a bit narrow,” Hejinmal said, “but it has some furnishings. You have a door as well – the others don’t have that.”

Ilyshn’ish’s tail twitched.

“Brother,” she growled in a low voice. “This is a broom closet.”

“I-is it? I’ve never seen one before…”

“It definitely is,” she told him. “I saw a few in the Feoh Berkana while wandering around. All of the inns had them.”

“The size might be a problem in a hundred years or so, but it looks nice and cosy for now, yes?”

Ilyshn’ish’s tail whipped out and slapped Hejinmal across his right haunch. Hejinmal let out a loud yelp, and Ilyshn’ish froze in shocked disgust as he rippled from the impact. It took a moment to find her voice again.

“I’m not some shut-in like you!” She shouted over his whimpering, “How can I stay in a place like this? Look here, you–”

She turned her head back towards where the Vampire Bride was, but she had gone off somewhere. Ilyshn’ish looked into the room, then twisted her neck back to look towards the desk before her senses registered someone approaching. A different Vampire Bride walked past her with something in hand, retrieving a hammer from the shelf in the closet before nailing the plaque with the impromptu 19 to the door. The number ended up slightly lopsided and, after a few failed attempts at straightening it, the Vampire Bride simply shrugged and put the hammer away.

“There you go, Number Nineteen,” she said. “Oh – we’ll be squeezing by you to access the cleaning tools inside, so don’t block the way when you’re in there…where are you going, Number Nineteen?”

“I am NOT Number Nineteen!” Ilyshn’ish growled as she stormed off, “I’m going somewhere else – you can have your stupid closet!”

“Your orientation and training are incomplete,” the Vampire Bride called out after her.

“Bite me!” Ilyshn’ish snarled.

After several more strides, the Vampire Bride started shouting behind her.

“A Dragon is fleeing!”

The two others at the desk turned and ran towards Ilyshn’ish. Several Frost Dragons poked their heads out from their pens.

“Halt!” One Vampire Bride cried.

“Stop!” Called the other.

The two Vampire Brides from the desk grabbed her tail and dug their heels into the stone, but the icy surface offered them no purchase. The remaining Vampire Bride ran after them as well. The Frost Dragons exchanged glances between themselves as the three Vampire Brides, fastened to Ilyshn’ish’s tail, skidded along the top of the wall.

“It’s Ilyshn’ish…”

“What is she doing?”

“...she’s fighting the Vampire Brides.”

“What!”

“We’re going to be blamed for this! We’ll be killed!”

“Stop her!”

“I’m not ready to become a purse!”

The wall shuddered under the force of a half dozen Frost Dragons dashing after their defiant sibling. Preparing to take wing, Ilyshn’ish was bowled over by three of her half-siblings.

“Ugh!” She shouted, “Why do you all have so much energy all of the sudden! Get…off!”

The tangle of Dragons and Vampires continued to writhe upon the wall as the remainder looked on.

“Sister, I–”

“Hejinmal, I swear if you jump on me I’ll–”

Ilyshn’ish didn’t get to finish her threat. The struggle rolled them off of the wall, and they plummeted to the mostly-cleared section of the city below. Six tonnes of Dragons and Vampires crashed into the ground, throwing up a large cloud of dust that rose over the battlements. A few of the nearby denizens – a mix of Dwarves, Lizardmen, Quagoa, Goblins and Ogres – started to appear from the surrounding dwellings, looking curiously towards the commotion.

The air was filled with the sound of Dragons hacking away after inhaling the cloud of dust, and the Vampire Brides walked out of it first. Ilyshn’ish wriggled her way out of the tangled mess of her half-brothers and sisters, finally dragging herself out into the clear air beyond. In front of her stood the three Vampire Brides in a line along a paved street. Behind them was some sort of building complex where many small heads poked out of windows to look in her direction. A tall figure, relative to the Vampire Brides, stepped out of the gate in the low wall of pale stone that surrounded the buildings.

She wore odd-looking garments of black and white: with a similarly-styled cap over long, carmine, hair that trailed down her back in two large braids. A dark expression emerged from her dark complexion – a predatory smile accompanied by the gleam of amber eyes that reflected the scarce light about them. For the first time in many months, Ilyshn’ish felt the chill of fear run up her spine.

“Oh ho~” The figure licked her lips and grinned, “Now what do we have here?”