Darkness coated the room. Aside from moonlight illuminating a sliver of the room and bed through the window, only vague silhouettes of furniture could be made out. Veldin’s gaze wandered the room, but he did not lift his head from the bed’s pillow. He was too tired for that.

Something did not feel right, even in this darkness, however. There was something odd about this room, wasn’t there? That thought lingered in the back of Veldin’s mind, but it was quickly overshadowed by the thrumming ache in his head and his joints. That must have been what had woken him. The pain, the feeling of malaise, enough that it had overpowered his exhaustion and rendered him conscious again, though still groggy. He added chills to the list of symptoms as he realized a freezing sensation had worked its way through his spine and caused him to shiver despite the heavy blankets covering him.

Warmth. Veldin needed warmth yet pulling the blankets tighter around himself did nothing. Almost instinctively, he shifted his position, pushing himself closer towards a source of warmth he hadn’t consciously known was next to him. Or had he?

The heat source shifted, and Veldin realized that it was another person. There was a person in here? Sharing the bed with him?

Of course, there was, he realized. Why would that be odd? Why would he expect anything other than that?

He was snapped out of his muddled thoughts when a voice spoke. “Veldin? What’s wrong?” The words were spoken in a soft, low tone that was partly mumbled from sleep.

“I…” Veldin tried to focus on that voice. It was a voice he expected to hear, for some reason. But why could he not place who the voice belonged to, then? He spoke, despite the hazy questions in his mind, “I feel ill…”

More movement from the other person in the darkness, and Veldin felt a hand brush against his face. A gentle caress running up along his cheek before a palm was placed against his forehead. A few of the fingers felt strange. They were firm, not like skin, but the smooth texture of metal. The cool metal against Veldin’s burning skin caused him to shiver more, and the hand quickly pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” the voice said, the tiredness giving way in favor of concern. “You’re warm, though… Does anything hurt?”

Veldin could only muster up the energy to answer with an exhausted groan as a fresh wave of drowsiness began to overtake him. He rolled over to face this person, resting his head on their shoulder. He felt warmer this close to them, their arms wrapped around him now.

“I should fetch some medicine for you.”

“In the morning…” Veldin mumbled, sleep already threatening to claim him again. “Just… it’s warm here.”

“Alright,” the voice said. “Get some rest, then. I’ll be here, so don’t worry.”

Veldin barely heard the words as he drifted off once more.

He awoke, staring up at the ceiling of the room. He was greeted be a darker night, a new moon providing almost no light. Despite that, his eyes easily saw through the darkness, and as he looked around the room, he made out every piece of furniture in full detail. This was the inn room. Not the room in his dream.

Is that what it had been? A dream?

Veldin sat up. His symptoms of illness, he realized, were very much real, as if they had insisted on making themselves known to him even in his sleep. He ignored the aches and pains as he had grown accustomed to doing over the past year. What was that room? It had felt so familiar. Everything had felt so familiar, so vivid, like something he had once known. Yet the details hung at the edges of his thoughts like an experience that refused to be remembered. Absentmindedly, he ran a hand over the sheets of the bed, the empty space next to himself. No one else was present. Why would he ever think there would be, after all? He was alone.

And with that thought, a deep emptiness made itself known in his chest.

He failed to understand why he felt like this. He had no idea who that person was, yet he still felt as if a part of himself had been ripped away.

Veldin gripped the bedsheets tightly and pulled at them, his hands balling into fists. Why now? Why, after a year of nothing, would he have this… memory? That was what it was. There was no evidence to prove that, but a part of Veldin knew, nonetheless. So why, after all this time, would he remember anything? He’d long since accepted he would never have his old life back. He’d embraced it, made himself useful to Lady Elcevier. And now he felt pain. He never wanted this.

There was a knock at the door, and Veldin’s thoughts froze. He did not know what to do with them. He wasn’t ready to put these thoughts aside yet. But he heard a second knock, followed by Misha’s voice softly calling his name on the other side. And so pushed the thoughts away regardless.

Veldin took a breath, then answered, “Come in,” raising his voice as well as he could in his exhausted state. It sounded hoarse and the effort strained his throat.

Misha luckily heard him on the first try, and the door opened, the woman entering on Grey’s back again. She held a small vial of liquid in her hands. “I’m back. I hope I didn’t take too long; I think we managed to avoid getting lost… too much.”

Veldin did not make eye contact, only gestured with one hand to the bedside table. “Thank you. Leave it there for me.”

“Alright.” Misha looked up at the wall where a glass lamp was mounted to provide light. “Should I…?”

“No.” Veldin did not want to consider how badly the light would sting his eyes at the moment.

“Oh. Alright then.” Misha tapped Grey on the shoulder, and he stepped forward tentatively into the room. There was an obvious caution in his movements, but he reached the table in only a few strides with his large build. Misha reached out and fumbled around to feel the surface of the table in the dark, putting the vial down on it when she’d found a good spot. Once she did, Grey let out a low rumble from his throat.

“Grey,” Misha said, and the wolf quieted down. “Sorry, Veldin. He’s been like that since we left the shop, I think he’s upset about something."

Veldin did not answer, looking down at his hands and waiting for the two to leave.

Instead, however, Misha asked, “Are you feeling any better?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You and I both know that’s not an answer.” Misha waited, but when Veldin gave no further response, she said, “Well… Good night, then. Let’s go, Grey.”

Grey turned, moving more quickly to exit the room. Misha shut the door on the way out, and Veldin was left alone once more.

The following day, with the sun showing that it was well into the afternoon by now, Aliana walked through the city at a brisk pace. Being out and about to see all the bustling activity in Indervel was a welcome change of pace after the extended period of quiet in the plains. On the other hand, however, her new mousefolk friend still seemed to be having difficulty walking around this place.

Misha had been clinging close to Aliana’s legs the whole time in an effort to avoid being stepped on by the city crowds. After a while, Aliana frowned and asked, “Are you sure you’re alright without Grey around?”

“I’m fine,” Misha said, hurrying along. “I’d rather he stays behind to watch Veldin while we’re away.”

Aliana at first opened her mouth intending to offer to carry Misha around. She thought better of it when it suddenly crossed her mind that may have been a demeaning prospect. Instead, she shrugged and settled for saying, “If you say so. Someone needs to make sure he stays in bed, I guess.” She had to admit, since waking up this morning Veldin had looked like he’d improved. Despite that, the group had agreed it would be best to spend an extra day in the city before setting out. In the meantime, Aliana had insisted Misha join her for a day in the city.

“So anyway, how do I look?” The first order of business had been renewed glamours for Aliana’s hair and eyes, and she tossed some of her freshly pink hair aside in a flourish. She was delighted with the more vibrant hue.

“Colorful?” Misha answered. “Have you ever done other colors?”

“A few times. Blue looked good, I think. The pink is my favorite, though.” Aliana glanced at a street name posted on a sign as the two walked away from the glamour salon. “I’ll bet blue would look great on your fur, though. It’s not too late to head back, I’ll pay for it.”

There was a long pause from Misha, and when she finally answered, her voice was layered with skepticism. “I’ll… I’ll pass on the offer. But thank you.”

“Suit yourself. Now then, the shrine should be down this way if I remember correctly…”

Indervel was home to three shrines that Aliana was aware of, including one dedicated to Citrine the Yellow Dragon. Given that Citrine was primarily worshiped by harpies, however, Aliana had never set foot in that one and suspected the majority of the city’s population did not either. That left the shrines of Emerald and Opal as the two more frequently visited locations, and it was the latter that she and Misha arrived at after some more time spent walking.

The building was just as Aliana remembered, a single-story structure with a steepled tile roof, its walls constructed of pale marble stone. Tall windows lined the building’s exterior, and the wooden double doors were propped open to welcome visitors inside.

There was a comforting familiarity at the sight of the building and Aliana smiled without even realizing it at first. “Let’s head inside before someone trips over you,” she said, then walked on ahead through the building’s doors with Misha sticking close behind her.

The building’s interior walls and floor were an even brighter white than the outside, but that was hardly the defining feature of this place. Carved into the walls were myriad scenes that stretched all around. Each one was a depiction of the White Dragon herself, telling the legends of her actions throughout history. The building held few furnishings, allowing the carvings to be displayed uninterrupted, save for two details at the far end of this room. The first was a stone altar where Aliana could see a number of offerings had already been placed in prayer to the deity. Most took the form of simple jewelry while a few others were bundles or colorful flowers or hand-made trinkets. Opal was never known to be picky in what was offered to her, and it was common for those who wanted to show their respect to the Dragon to provide all manner of items.

Behind the altar sat a statue. It was carved from the same white marble and cleanly depicted Opal’s great scaled form, her four legs relaxed, and her feather-tipped tail curled around herself. Great wings stretched out and draped down across the building just in front of the back wall, and the great White Dragon’s two heads peered down at the altar below it, each one boasting a pair of smooth round horns that formed a near-complete ring.

Misha walked slowly forward into the room, her gaze traveling all around the walls and taking in every detail. Mercifully for her, there were few other visitors in the building at this time of day. One of Opal’s priests, a human woman in white robes, stood by the statue and offered a polite smile at her and Aliana’s entrance. A broad-shouldered drakkin man with dark brown scales knelt before the statue, his head lowered in prayer.

“Do all of the Dragons have buildings like this?” Misha asked Aliana, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the other people here. Aliana had offered to teach Misha about the Dragons after all, and so here they were.

“Emerald has hers, though it’s a lot bigger,” Aliana answered. “More plants too. Apparently, she had very specific requests for hers. I haven’t been in Citrine’s, though.”

Misha hummed thoughtfully and walked towards one of the walls to examine the carved scenery more closely. “What are these?”

“Stories of Opal, naturally,” Aliana said. She began walking alongside the wall, pointing to a few of the carvings, scenes of Opal looking upon her followers to grant her divine blessings. “Opal’s the Dragon of life, so people pray to her for good health. Sometimes for protection, especially when they’re traveling. A few of her priests through history have even had the power to heal serious injuries almost instantly, you know.”

“They’re that powerful?” Misha sounded impressed.

“Of course, they are. It’s power that comes from the Dragons, after all.”

Misha was silent for a moment, thinking. “They don’t seem very enthusiastic about giving out their power often, though,” she said, no doubt referring to the group’s conversation with Emerald.

Aliana grimaced at that memory. “Well… That’s normal for Emerald. She’s… finicky.” She couldn’t bring herself to openly call a Dragon a more accurate word such as ‘stingy’ or ‘uncaring.’ Even if that Dragon would likely not hear her, she was not going to take any chances. “A lot of the Dragons can be like that, you’re not wrong. But that’s not the case for Opal. Things are different for her.”

“How so?”

Aliana’s hand drifted to another carving further to the right. It was one that displayed Opal in a more fearsome demeanor than the others, her claws outstretched, and her mouths open to bare their fangs for battle. Her opponent, standing opposite to her, was another Dragon. This one had large wings that draped down over his body like a cloak, his head held low. The wall’s carvings could not depict the solid black color of his scales.

“It’s because Opal is fighting to keep Obsidian at bay,” Aliana said.

“Obsidian?” Misha repeated. “I haven’t heard that name, I don’t think.”

“He’s the Black Dragon of death. The story goes that all life in the world originated from Opal. But Obsidian arrived after her and the world started dying. So, Opal began to fight him to stop everything she’d created from being destroyed. She’s not powerful enough to stop him on her own, though. All she can do is fight to keep him away and let us live in the meantime.”

“She’s… Wait, she’s fighting him even now?”

Aliana nodded. “She has to keep Obsidian away from this world, so they’re… I’m not sure where they are, to be honest. I don’t think anyone does. But they’re not here like the other four Dragons are. That’s why she can’t give us her power easily, but it also means Obsidian is limited in what he can do as well.”

“Wouldn’t the other Dragons help? If Opal alone is enough to keep him away, surely just one of the other Dragons helping her would be enough to stop him.”

“Emerald was too la–“ Aliana stopped herself before calling Emerald lazy, “I mean, she’s too… preoccupied to even help the Orchard Forest. Helping Opal fight Obsidian would mean leaving her territory unattended, and none of the Dragons seem to like doing that sort of thing. Obsidian’s not a threat to them so long as Opal handles him, so…”

Misha scoffed, a response so uncharacteristic for her that Aliana had to stop herself from laughing in the middle of the shrine.

“Well,” Aliana continued, “the main thing to remember is that Opal treats us well. It’s not her fault that she can’t spare the attention to help us more than she does.”

“I see…” Misha’s hand traveled to the small wooden pendant she’d been wearing around her neck, a trinket she’d picked up the night before, apparently.

When Misha made no further follow-up, Aliana said, “Was there anything else you wanted to ask about?”

“I don’t think so,” Misha said with a shake of her head. “Not right now, anyway. This has already been a lot… Well, not so much the Dragons themselves, but just… Everything, I mean.”

“I can see that. There’s a lot to take in your first time in the city.”

Misha’s whiskers twitched. “Right… Aliana?”

“Hm?”

“Were you serious about paying to color my fur?”

Aliana’s eyes lit up and she grinned with excitement. “Yes, Misha.”

“I–I don’t actually–I didn’t mean I wanted to do that,” Misha quickly clarified, and Aliana’s face fell with disappointment. “I actually wanted to ask if… we could use the money to stop by a shop instead?”

“Oh?” Aliana still wanted so desperately to see Misha with colorful fur, but shopping sounded fun too. “I don’t see why not. In that case, just give me a little bit, alright?”

Misha nodded. “Take your time.”

Aliana turned to approach the statue of Opal. The other man that had been praying had left at some point during their conversation, and only the priest remained to be vigilant for the statue and shrine’s well-being.

Aliana knelt on the stone floor, looking at the statue’s faces before lowering her head over clasped hands. She’d enjoyed today. She enjoyed any day she could spent around people she liked. But there had been something eating away at that joy, a feeling that she had tried so hard all this time to ignore. Closing her eyes, she called out to Opal in silent prayer.

Seraphim was gone. Right now, Aliana could only hope that they were safe. Another of Opal’s scales had already been shattered. What if that same fate awaited Seraphim? Aliana needed to retrieve the sword, safe and sound. She needed to do so soon, as soon as possible. And so, she prayed to Opal, hoping the White Dragon could hear her thoughts and feel what she felt. She prayed to Opal to keep Seraphim safe, to help Aliana to find them. She needed to–

‘How fascinating it is to learn how living creatures view the concept of death.’

Aliana felt the muscles in her body tense up at Moonlight’s words. She hadn’t realized the sun had already set while she and Misha had been out, at least enough for the sword to awaken. How long had Moonlight been listening? There was that feeling again, no longer eating away at her joy but overshadowing it. The fear that Moonlight’s presence brought.

‘I do hope you are enjoying your life, Aliana. I will enjoy mine when yours ends.’

Aliana had not realized her eyes were open now, as she stared blankly at the white stone floor. She stood up, offered a pleasant smile to the priest to hide her sudden shakiness, and then turned to Misha.

“I’m ready to leave now, Misha.”