"You, young lady, are quite lucky to be alive."

The rough soprano pulled Aflia Cencin out of her half-awake state. "Wh... Where am I?" She pried her eyes open and saw a most unusual face. It was that of an old person, but the race was hard to determine. It had the pointed ears of an elf, the slit eyes of a silithid, and a few small dragon scales dusted the cheeks like freckles. "Who are you?"

"Ilelahne SiDabolo. No, don't freak out, you need your rest. What was going through your head, I wonder, to blindly jump through an unstable Gate? You are fortunate that it didn't implode and tear you into little bits!"

"I'm in Sapphire then?"

"Hardly! You are in the medical wing of my tower on Sapphire Bay."

"Medical wing? I feel fi... URK!"

"Basin is to your left dear."

Aflia found the basin, and promptly emptied her stomach into it. After the necessary time and dry heaving, Aflia put the filled basin back on the ground, "I wasn't sick yesterday..."

Lady SiDabolo let out a mew of annoyance, "you didn't go through an unstable Gate yesterday. Where are you from, miss..?"

"Aflia Cencin, from Trebor in Althiem. I have a letter of introduction in my pack..."

"You are going to stay in bed until your wings finish growing in."

"Wings? Wha?"

Lady SiDabolo pulled a hand mirror out of thin air, "take a look at yourself, try not to freak out, and I'll explain."

Aflia took the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her skin was the same dark red, with scales along the edges. but the scales weren't their usual skin-matching color, instead they were two toned with a crimson center and shining silver edges. "my mother was a silver dragonborn, but..."

"The emergence of a dormant trait or bloodline instead of the introduction of a new one then. Good, it seems that you will probably survive then."

"WHAT!?"

Lady SiDabolo sighed and took the mirror back, "explanation time then. I can tell that you are a sorceress of the dragon blood. While a safe and stable power source, particularly if the bloodline is natural, it does come with certain physical transformations. Scales are almost universal, and appear at birth, or shortly thereafter. Horns and reptilian eyes are less common, but those would blend in among tieflings because they already have those traits. The one physical transformation that occurs much later, if at all, is the emergence of a fully-functional set of draconic wings. This usually happens when the sorceress in question has reached a certain stage in their training, or after exposure to specific and particularly potent magics or alchemical compounds. The transformation itself is, according to my research, painful at best and fatal at worst. Most of the fatalities occurred when the sorceress in question could not get any medical aid, particularly if their dragonblood power was artificial in origin. Here in the medical wing of my tower you will have all the medical attention you need, so your survival isn't really in doubt."

"If that's the case, why can't I get out of bed?"

Lady SiDabolo gave Aflia a lopsided grin, "that would be your feet dear. You can't feel them right now thanks to the pain-blockers I gave you in your morning broth before you woke up, but your hooves are... splitting. I've never seen or read of anything like it my nine centuries of life. The researcher in me wants to document it, and the emergence of your wings, fully. The medical professional in me absolutely refuses to let you walk on them before their transformation is finished."

Aflia let out a long breath, "ok, I'm not dumb enough to try to walk around against doctor's orders. This does leave me in a bit of a spot though, given that I was coming here to do some research. Kind of hard to walk about a library when I'm bedridden."

"Oh? And what brought you all the way to my tower looking for information than? Most people around here avoid me for some reason."

"I came across a reference to an old tale, bordering on myth really, and the only book that I know has the full version is Days of Falling Skies. The copy in Altheim's Library is a tad time-worn, and Lord Cretu, the Lord of Trebor, suggested that I may be able to find a copy in your library, seeing as you are the author of that particular work."

"Lord Cretu? as in Aris Cretu? Last I heard he was an ur-hander in Ironbark, not even three years ago, right after Ironbark kicked ass and took names in the Westmarch War. I've been looking for him! Why didn't you mention him sooner?"

"He wrote the letter of introduction, and sent me along with another figure from that war, one Mul the Silent."

Lady SiDabolo's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I've been looking for her too." A shrug, and the flash of temper vanished, "No matter. With your permission, I'll retrieve the letter of introduction from your pack, along with your other things. While you wait, this may be useful." Lady SiDabolo vanished the hand mirror and called up an ornately bound copy of Days of Falling Skies "You may as well get started on your research."