As if triggered by her words, the orb exploded in a silent shockwave. Syra lurched back as the expanding dust cloud filled the ravine and cast auroras upon the walls. It swirled and warped, until its amoeboid shape condensed into a shimmering nebula of draconic form. Then, with a flutter, its glowing eyes opened and locked on to the small human crouched below.

“H-how am I here?” the cloud asked, examining the ghostly mist that somehow contained itself. Its voice was soft and calm, despite its looming presence. “Was this your work, little one?”

But Syra shook her head, her words failing as her mind sputtered to make sense of the scene in front of her.

“N-no. I have no idea how—or if it’s even possible to…everything I’ve read says it not, but…is it…is it really you?”

The cloud lowered its head and Syra stretched up her hands for its snout. But her fingers clawed at air. Thick and warm like breath but tingling like shifting sands. She burrowed her face into the mist and let it fill her nose.

It is her. It’s faint, but I can barely smell her. Mother…she’s here. But how? Even animancy can’t shape souls. Or can it? Is there more to it than what Valen said—what the Council said? Baba certainly seemed to know more than them. But, if it is animancy, then she’ll need a shell—a strong one. Without that she’ll—

A stabbing chill drew her eyes to the edge of the mist. One by one, she watched the silvery embers flake off and waft away like drifting stars, only to be eaten by the wind.

“You can’t stay, can you?”

Nova, too, watched her form slowly dissolve, “At this rate of decay, most likely not.”

“No!” Syra pulled away and scoured the cliffs and shoals for any glint of crystal light. “There has to be something here we can use. I know it won’t hold long, but maybe it’ll last long enough for us to find a better—”

“Syra. Syra, come here.”

The rush of Nova’s tail encircling her made Syra pause, and her glistening eyes met Nova’s glowing ones.

“But we have to find you a shell before—”

“There is no shell for me, little one.” Nova unfurled her wings and draped them around her daughter, surrounding Syra in a vortex of stars. “So, please, just…sit with me while we have this moment.”

“But I can—”

“How are the twins?” Nova grinned down and Syra drooped, letting herself lean into the starry current.

Images of Cassius clutching Aidan and Petra’s pavilion performance flashed in her mind, and a small smile flickered on her face.

“Strong. Petra’s a songstress like you. And she’s Vayguard now, too. I can see why—she’s super bossy and sounds just like Papa sometimes. But she’s constantly getting scolded by Cas, so I guess they’re both like him in some ways.”

“Thank Draco,” Nova breathed a sigh of relief. “They were so young when I…when I left. I missed so much—their first flight, first hunt…first flame.”

Syra’s gaze dropped at the regret in her mother’s eyes, “Oh, their flames are plenty strong—there’s no problem with that."

You’d still be waiting for mine, though.

Nova's starry gaze shone straight through Syra's mask.

"And there's no problem with you, either."

Syra's surprise made her chuckle, "A sleeping fire still burns, remember?"

Syra chest warmed at all the times her mother had repeated that old adage. Even Valen had mentioned it a few times whenever a setback would rouse her self-doubt from its cage.

"They miss you," Syra continued, "Cas doesn’t say anything, but I know it’s hard on Petra. They should probably be here instead of me…all they have are faint memories.”

Subtle mischief danced on Nova’s smirk, “Now, that is something we can change.”

She passed a large hand over the rippling waters below.

“That one will do,” she pointed a talon at a flat pebble wedged between the submerged stones. “Bring it here, please.”

Syra skittered to fetch the stone but hesitated as she drew it from the water.

“A…mussel?”

“Open it.”

Syra clawed the slick shells open and paused at the shimmer peeking out from the slimy flesh within. Plucking the pearl from its nest, she held it up to the fading vestige, its white sheen reflecting the surrounding auroras.

“What exactly will this do?”

“Not much,” Nova admitted, “but it’s the best message I can manage.”

Heat flooded Syra’s hands as Nova’s hands encased them. With wide eyes, she watched the starry mist swirl and funnel from Nova into the pearl. And with them, came a warm longing. An ache she could only compare to that long night in Omei—when the memory of Aidan’s embrace threatened to become permanent, and when the urge to both cling on and wish well fought equally.

A beautiful pain, she thought, allowing the riptide to saturate her and the pearl gripped in her hand. And, if she listened past the pounding in her chest, she could just make out the hum of a lullaby.

“The imprint won’t last long,” Nova said, snapping Syra from her trance, “but I hope it’ll be enough for closure.”

Nova withdrew her hands and Syra looked up to see half of her mother’s form already dissolved away, with more flecks leaving on each breath.

“Thank you for finding me,” Nova said through a half-smile and squinted eye. “I’m so happy you’re alright. You’re glowing even more than I hoped for.”

“Wait!” Syra shoved the pearl into a pocket and gripped Nova’s face, only to scatter the mist more. “No, wait! I still have so many questions!”

Shit—I never even asked about the shards, or Marrak.

“Please! Mother, don’t leave me!”

At this Nova only chuckled, “Oh, little one, I never left.”

She knelt her head and pressed it lightly to Syra’s forehead.

“I don’t remember much from my sleep, but I can tell you this: this world is just a veil. A reflection of things that our eyes can see. But under that veil we are all connected—here,” she placed a single claw to Syra’s chest. “It is here that I will always be, my little Namarani.”

At the utterance of her True Name, Syra’s chest glowed. And in its radiance, a single thread shimmered in the distance between them, ending at the glowing orb within Nova’s own chest.

“The day gives warmth to the earth, and the night returns it,” Nova cooed. “We don’t know why or how. Where it comes from or where it goes. But, it’s constantly flowing—like mana, changing every now and then. Essence is like that, too. So, I’m sure that one day, somehow, we’ll meet again.”

Her laugh was cut off by a gale rushing down the ravine, taking all but her head and chest with it.

“No, not yet!” Syra’s hands shot out, latching onto the wavering thread. “Don’t go—”

As her fingers curled around the thread of light, a surge of mana bolted through her arms and filled her head with buzzing, bringing darkness with it.

***

“Take care of her.”

A voice cut through the dark mist. Strained and wispy. Her mother’s voice.

“Mother?” Syra called through the void only for her words to die passed her lips.

Syra squinted as light suddenly illuminated the swirling mist around her. It was only a bubble of light with darkness closing in at its periphery, and the figures were blurry. But she could make out the ravine, and the river, and the small island she was standing on.

“Please, there’s no one else—”

Syra spun around to see the crumpled and gasping mass of a dragoness splayed on the ground—her wings bent and broken under her body, and ribs shining red and protruding from silver scales.

“Mother!” She rushed to Nova’s side, but the mist only wafted away from her touch.

“No,” replied the other shadow crouching over her, “you just hang on a little but longer. We can fix this. I can fix this.”

“Not this time—the darkness is here already.”

“Then fight it! You have to try—”

“Please…for me. You have to watch over her—there’s no one else to teach her.”

“I am no replacement for you, Nova. You know this.”

At this Nova only smiled.

“I know I can trust my best friend to try.”

Nova’s eyes slid closed, and the shadows crashed over with mournful roar. A roar that echoed through the darkness until it became a cry. But not a cry of sorrow. A squealing cry from a tiny, but hungry stomach. And as the light returned, the cry doubled into two raspy squeals from the gaping mouths poking through cracked eggshell—one copper, the other gold.

“Are those…” Syra gawked down at the two hatchlings squirming to free themselves from their shared prison.

“This is Cassius, and this is Petra.”

The familiar, deep voice made her chest seize. She bit down on her cheek and took a deep breath before looking up.

There he was. Looking down at her with those sky-filled eyes. His form misty with blurred edges, but her eyes clung to her father’s image as if one blink would scatter it.

“They are your new siblings,” Nova cooed from her other side, healthy and beaming from the surprise wyrmling the hatching brought.

“They’re so tiny.”

Syra startled from the small voice behind her and spun to see her younger self curiously picking away at the remaining shell.

“For now,” Nova said with a knowing grin. “Soon, they’ll be just as big as you. If not bigger.”

Nova prodded baby Syra in the side with a tickling claw, sending her into a laughing fit. A display that baby Petra found amusing enough to hiccup a tiny puff of smoke.

“Until then, you’ll need to help look after them.” Rigel craned his head down to meet hers, “Think you can do that?”

“I’m trying, Papa,” Syra whispered to him and stroked his head with a quivering hand. “But they’re quite capable on their own now. Even without our help.”

The hatching den and its occupants faded, but the giggling of wyrmlings continued. Through the shadows, two voices danced about chasing after each other, until moonlight spilled into the cavity of a ruined chamber hall.

“I did it!” One voice called out as a shadowy wyrmling galloped into the hall. “I finally heard it, Nova! I heard my Name!”

Nova? Syra looked over to the silver wyrmling doodling on the wall. Wait, that little thing is Mother?

“Really?” Nova abandoned her wall drawing and scampered to her giddy friend, butting his head in greeting.

“Yes, really!”

He wiggled an excited rump, but she paused and narrowed her eyes.

“You sure it wasn’t just your stomach growling again?”

“Yes yes,” he held out a claw to her, “I swear! I actually heard it this time.”

Nova’s frill flared as a smile split her snout open.

“That’s amazing!” She leapt and tackled him, the sudden weight buckling his legs and sending them to the floor in a giggle fit.

“So, what is it, then?” she asked, lounging across him.

“What? My name?”

“Yes, foghead, your Name,” she mocked, drooping her tail over his face.

But he swiped it away and pulled himself out from under her, his sudden silence filling the hall.

“What?” she asked, her frill flattening.

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Bashta, why not?”

“Alder said it’s only for pair bonds to know.”

Nova clenched her jaw against her curiosity, “Well…we are friends, right? I mean, you’re my best friend at least.”

“Definitely! I mean, I have other clan friends, but…they’re not like you. So…”

“So, what’s the difference? If I tell you mine, then it’ll be fair, right?”

“I don’t know, Nova. Alder’s pretty serious about this kind of stuff.”

“Oh, come on, Marrak! Alder’s serious about the brewing temperature for tea, and nothing bad has come of that.”

“Actually, temperature can make some tea really bit—”

She latched a claw around his and shoved their foreheads together.

“I promise, I won’t tell anyone,” she hushed, a hint of sadness tainting her jovial tone. “Not like they'd believe me anyway. I'm just some fancy foothiller to them. But you...you actually listen to my stupid ramblings. You...understand me—at least it seems like you do. So, I just…want to know you better, too.”

Marrak's gaze softened as a small ember grew inside him, "You're not just some foothiller, Nova. You're...you're actually pretty brilliant. Sure, I get lost in some of your ideas, but that's because I can't keep up, not because they're stupid. Anyone who can't see that is just blind."

The quiet joy on her face made his spines relax as all reluctance seeped away.

“Fine, I'll tell you,” he said, leaning his snout closer to her ear. “My Name…my Name is Valkrios.”

***

As the memory faded, the light from young Marrak’s chest was replaced by the sunrise and the last flickering embers of Nova’s ghost.

“You…were friends. Bonded friends.”

Syra stared down at the cleared spot where her mother’s tree had been. Now, only a gnarled scar remained as any evidence of their encounter.

“How did everything go so wrong?”

But as Syra wiped a tear away, a glimmer caught her eye. She thought it a lingering tear and wiped again, but there it stayed—glinting up from the scarred earth. Her breath caught as she bent to reach for it, and her smile returned.

“But you’re still here, I see,” she told the pearl shining up at her.

But as she plucked the pearl from the dirt, it dissolved. And as the sand and dust fell from her hand, it left only a small, crystal shard behind.

“Seriously?” she scolded the glinting shard. “This whole time?” She threw her hand back in a groan and shoved the shard into the pocket with the new pearl. “Petra’s never going to let this go.”

But the pearl was warm against her hand, and she cast a wide grin at the empty island before ascending the ridge.

“Thank you, Mother.” She let the Old Draconic words linger in her mouth, as if their reverberation would echo through the veil to reach her. “I promise, I’ll keep trying.”

***

Her triumphant return to the hall was met by a swarm of sighs and scowls.

“Syra!” Aidan leapt from his chair, face lined and pale, but Petra got to her first.

“Where on Erd have you been?” Her gold eyes blazed down at her, but her brow also wore wrinkles. “And don’t say the shit pit, ‘cause we already looked.”

“I went—”

Aidan’s firm hold cut off her explanation, “We thought they caught you.”

“Or you ran off again,” added Cassius, stroking an irritated Pishy.

“I went to the river,” Syra said, fidgeting under the weight of their stares.

“The river?” Aidan pulled back, “But that’s so far. You could’ve been seen.”

“Why would you go so far out?” Cassius asked, “And without telling us?”

Syra gave Aidan’s hand a gentle squeeze and smiled up at him, “I found it.”

“What?”

“The mana pool—I found it. I followed the mana streams through the orchard, and it brought me to the river.”

“Wait. So, the mana pool—the one you mentioned last night—is in the river?”

“In a way, I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“You should’ve at least told us,” said Cassius. “We would have gone with you. What if you ran into someone out there?”

“To my credit, I did consider that. Until I lost the pearl.”

“You what?” Petra’s budding grin flattened. “You lost…the what?”

“It’s alright, I swear.” Syra couldn’t help but smile as she dug through her pocket.

“No, it’s not!” Petra snarled down at her. “Father gave you that pearl. I can’t believe you’d—"

“I found something better.”

Syra opened her hand to Petra, revealing the pearl and shard.

“Wait. Is that…” Petra’s sudden stupor called everyone’s attention to Syra’s palm.

“Yep.”

“You found it?” Aidan shoved his face into her hand for a closer examination. “This is the shard? As in the shard? The one that was missing?”

Syra bit back a giggle, “Yep.”

“That’s amazing!” Aidan threw his arms around her and lifted her up until her toes dangled.

“I know. But I didn’t get just that.” She squirmed herself down and held the pearl out to Petra and Cassius.

“But you said you lost the pearl,” said Petra.

“This one is different. This one’s for you. Both of you.”

“For…us?” Petra asked, reaching. “That’s oddly nice of you.”

“Oh, it’s not from me.”

Petra’s hand recoiled, “Then from who?”

“You tell me.”

Syra grabbed Petra’s hand and wrapped her fingers around the warm stone. Petra jerked as the mana surged through her, casting a thin aura that draped her in stardust. Her hand lurched, but Syra held firm, watching her face. Watching her pupils expand, then dart around searching the empty air, then finally settle on the face only she could see. All tension melted from her brow and her arms went limp.

“M…Mother?” Red swelled into Petra’s cheeks, and she gripped the pearl with both hands.

“Yep,” Syra cooed, relinquishing the pearl to her.

“Cas, come here!” Petra’s misting eyes jolted her brother from his seat. “It’s her…it’s really her. I can feel her. I can…actually hear her.”

The twins stood motionless as the silent hall watched in confusion. But Syra knew that stare—that longing air. They were with her, with Mother, down in the river listening to her voice and the bittersweet memories it brought. And just like at the river, the mist and its messenger were gone too soon.

“H-how did you get this?” Cassius creaked out, the pearl now dull in their hands.

“I’m not actually sure how it works. But I do remember reading about these magic mussels that live near—”

The weight of Petra’s arms caught Syra off-guard and she stumbled back, only to be pulled tight into Petra’s chest.

“P-Petra?” She faltered, her body awkwardly rigid against her sister’s. It was the smell of salt that drew her attention to Petra’s clenched jaw and the single droplet hanging from it.

“Thank you,” Petra squeaked out. “I don’t know how you made this, and right now I don’t care, but I…I just…” She balled the tiny pearl tight in her fist, “Can I keep it?”

The quiet sincerity in her voice made Syra soften, and she gave Petra’s shoulders a quick squeeze before pointing a mocking finger.

“Now Petra, you know you have to share with your brother.”

“Ugh,” Petra faked a whine, “do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to!” said Cassius, nudging Petra in her side. “She gave it to both of us.”

“I guess you’ll just have to take turns,” Syra said, patting their heads, “just like with everything else—”

The creak and slam of the door cut off their laughter, and all froze at the stomping of the guards’ angry boots into the hall.

“Where is Leti?” The patrol captain asked, searching the room. “We know she’s here.”

“I’m right here,” Leti said, stepping forward to eye the captain. “What do you want, Dahva? You’re interrupting a Scree ceremony.”

“She’s right,” said Ariksi, joining her. “You’re out of jurisdiction.”

But Dahva only scowled at her and the gathering, “The moon has set, Ariksi. And this has nothing to do with your silly party.”

His disapproving gaze shifted back to Leti and her human guests, “You brought foreigners into our city without permission. That is certainly within my jurisdiction.”

“They’re here on our orders,” said Leti. “Stahdler made that very clear.”

“Yes, orders that were not approved by the Council. And yes, I checked. But that’s not the issue I’m here about. Apparently, one of your “guests” used magic to put an entire terrace to sleep?”

Leti flinched.

“That was spur-of-the-moment. They were stopping us from paying respects, and you know the North Wardens wouldn’t have helped.”

Dahva’s gaze softened, “I know, but that still doesn’t make it acceptable. You know this more than anyone.”

Leti thumbed absently at the scarred-over runes tattooed across her knuckles, and she forced a steadying breath.

“Look, I agree that the use of magic was out of line and unplanned,” she cast a leer at Petra, “but as you said, they are guests here, so they’re still learning our customs. Given that you’re here, I’m assuming the Council isn’t aware of them yet. So, why don’t you just let us Scree deal with them? They’ll be gone by sundown anyway.”

“I would love to do that, Leti, if this was indeed their first offense.” Dahva stepped aside as Tarsi strolled through the doorway. “I can’t control how lax your rules are in Koth, but up here we actually follow them. I’m sorry, but I am going to have to bring you to the Council.”

His raised hand brought the guards and their chains, surrounding the party.

Syra and the twins readied their hands and Aidan snatched his sword from the table.

“Please don’t this—don’t fight,” said Dahva. His eyes beseeched them but clung to Aidan and his hand hovering at the hilt. “Please. You’ll only make things worse for yourselves. And your people.”

The threat only curled Aidan’s fingers tighter, “Then let us leave now with a valuable lesson. There is no need to worry either of our Councils.”

“Your council-of-one isn’t worried enough,” spat Tarsi from the sidelines. “Sending its prince and a mage here, of all places, and without even notifying our Council? It’s downright foolish and insulting.”

“And you’re supposed to be down a hole in Koth,” Leti said, turning on him. “You’re the traitor here, Tarsi. How’d you even get here? Who let you go?”

“Hold on, now. What’s all this?” A familiar voice called beyond the door.

Tarsi and the guards froze and Syra’s eyes brightened as Valen stepped into the hall.

“Valen!” Syra cried out, splatting confusion across his tired face.

“Syra?” He paused to take in the scene then turned a narrowed eye to Tarsi.

“What on Erd are you doing, Tarsi? Were my instructions not clear enough?”

“Not at all, sir! You see, I have them safely secured. Well, I was about to—”

“Oh, no no! This is not what I meant at all.” Valen dismissed the guards with a wave and a chuckle. "I'm so sorry, Dahva, this is all just a bad misunderstanding."

“Wait, but I thought—” Tarsi fumbled.

“You were supposed to make sure they were safe and secure, not safely secured.”

“But—”

“A very easy and honest mistake, I understand. But let’s try to avoid causing anymore disruption, alright? You see," he passed a glance to Syra, "these people here are incredibly important to me.”

Syra thought she caught Tarsi’s lip twitch, but he nodded and backed away. With the guards at ease, she rushed to Valen and threw her arms tight around him.

“Thank Erd, you’re here. I was scared we’d have to fight our way out or get locked up before you got here.”

“I’m just glad you’re all safe,” he said, pulling her close. “Baba told me about what happened in Renguard. I’m so sorry, Bug. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m...managing.” She relaxed under the weight of his chin on her head, “But, I think it’s all going to get better soon.”

“Oh, really now? Why’s that?”

She muted a squeal and squeezed him tighter.

“We did it,” she whispered. “We found them. All of them.”

She jumped as he pulled back to gawk down at her.

“All of them?” he asked, surprised delight cracking his voice.

“Yep.” She pulled the shard from her pocket, its faint glow barely illuminating her palm. “The others are in the ring, as you instructed,” she gloated, modeling the ring for him.

“They actually fit?” He laughed, taking her hand and studying the three sparks that swirled inside its green stone.

“That’s amazing!” Valen squeezed her tight. “I just knew it—I knew you could do it. I was a little worried at first, with the Black Thorn and all, but you actually pulled it off. This is truly excellent work.” He rustled the rogue waves atop her head, “I am so proud of you, Bug.”

For a moment, she let herself fall into him and soaked up the warmth of his arms and his praise, but then craned her head to the others.

“It wasn’t just me.”

“Of course, it wasn’t.”

He held out an inviting hand to the others, “Care to join?”

“I’d rather you change me back, thank you very much,” Petra said, snubbing her nose at him.

“Oh right, right! That was the deal, wasn’t it? Alright, then, everyone outside! Gather ‘round.”

The lot followed Valen to the courtyard out front where he positioned the twins in the center, far away from the crowded cabins.

“I think this should be enough space,” he said, looking to Syra.

“Syra? The shards, if you please? I fear I might not have the power to break both spells at once. Might as well use them if we have them, right?”

Syra slipped the ring off, but hesitated, “Are you sure about this? That’s a lot of mana to use at once.”

He grinned and gave her shoulder a pat, “I think just using one will be alright. If not…then it’s a good thing you’re here, right?”

She watched the treasures fall and clink into his palm, their light disappearing within clawed fingers.

“Alright, everyone ready? Here we go.”

Valen breathed and relaxed, and the twins fidgeted in anticipation. And then, his hands glowed. They glowed bright and steady, and red.

But it wasn’t the ruby corona surging around him that made Syra’s chest seize. It was the flicker in his eyes. One that burned away their rusty brown into a brilliant, maple red. Fire red. Blood red. Marrak red.