“Nakino…” the elder drakon rasps with considerable strain. “I think it’s time.”

Nakino raises his head from the assemblage of plants gathered at his talons. His eyes narrow, and his resolve deepens. “No, it isn’t. You’ll live to see tomorrow.”

“No…” the tawny drakon’s voice is cut by a sudden, choking cough. He gasps, straining to regain what little strength remains. “No, I don’t think so, Son-Of-Yzori.”

As guilt rakes my heart, I avert my eyes. Somehow, Rosht’s condition has become grave. How can this be?! Why aren’t our treatments working?

After returning from Loner territory, Kuro and I knew we had to alert the flock of Relmoon’s treachery. We decided to personally alert all the Chevils, providing a firsthand account of what we witnessed in the ruins. After informing an understandably concerned Bonello, we returned to the Grandfather Tree to alert Sefri. We planned to spend the night before flying to White Mountain to tell the elders, but that all changed as I returned to Nakino’s den to let him know I was safe.

Before we left for the ruins, two Kin had come down with a minor illness at the Grandfather Tree. I had forgotten entirely about the mundane event until I returned to find their condition had deteriorated significantly. Frail, they lay motionless in Nakino’s den, unable to hold down prey or water. Without thinking, I sprang into action, working to help Nakino develop a treatment. The next day, another Kin arrived in his den with similar symptoms. Then, three more this morning.

An illness is spreading through the aerie, and we have no idea what it is or what’s causing it!

All of Nakino’s usual treatments have failed to improve their symptoms. And to make matters worse, there’s no common thread between the Dragons who’ve become ill. Two can no longer leave the Grandfather Tree, while one is a huntress who regularly gathers her own prey and only visits the aerie to return communal prey. We can’t begin to develop an effective treatment until we understand what’s causing the illness, but all the cases so far seem entirely unrelated.

“Skunkscent,” Nakino curses, pounding his talon against the ground. “Asha, fetch him some more water.”

“Should we use water from the rootsping instead?” I ask. “It should be cleaner.”

The rootsping is precisely what it sounds like — a natural freshwater spring that flows from a crook in the roots of the Grandfather Tree. Most of the Dragons here prefer the taste to the water that pools around the tree. In Nakino’s den, we have a steady supply of water dripping from the skylights on his roof.

“Cleaner?” Nakino tilts his head. “All water’s the same, Asha.”

Well! That’s completely false. But sensing the futility of trying to explain ‘germ theory’ to a feral, I hold my tongue. I locate the closest puddle of ponding water, slurp up a mouthful, and release it into a depression in the ground at Rosht’s talons. “Please,” I say. “Try drinking it again.”

Rosht’s emerald green eyes study the water for a moment. “I can’t…” he sighs. “It will not matter.”

“Rosht, please!” Nakino pleads, standing over the emaciated elder. “You have to try!”

“I know when my time has come,” he murmurs with a tone of finality. Rosht lays his head beyond his talons, and his eyes become heavy. “It’s been untold seasons since I saw my mate. But soon… we’ll fly together again.”

He gingerly raises his head, and a gentle smile forms across his muzzle. Is… this it? Is this really how this kindly old drakon passes onto Maki? I glance at Nakino, and his doleful look says it all. My heart shatters, recognizing that he’s using his remaining strength to reassure us he’s at peace.

Suddenly, his breathing picks up — short and erratic chuffs as the pain becomes unbearable. I place my wing against his flank, wishing with all my conviction there was something I could do to help. A heart-wrenching moment later, his body flinches and then stops moving altogether.

Nakino draws a sharp breath and dips his head. “He flies the skies of Maki.”

My feathers shiver as I slowly retract my wing. I’ve watched the life force drain from prey countless times, but never my own species. This was more traumatic than I anticipated. “D-Did he have a family?” I ask.

“Not here,” Nakino replies, shuffling to his talons. “He had a son at Tall Spires. I must speak with Sefri and request his Kin be informed. We’ll move his body afterward.”

I nod gently, and Nakino turns to leave the den, his tail dragging against the ground behind him. Despite everything we tried, this Kin has perished. Just what kind of illness are we dealing with? And what about the other four Kin with similar symptoms? Are their lives in danger as well? The pain of watching one Dragon die was too much… no matter what, we have to figure out a treatment!

“Mmm, no…”

Resting against my haunches, I trace my foretalon down the wall, closely inspecting each of the crevices. Since Nakino left to inform Sefri of Rosht’s passing, I’ve been scouring his stock room for any usual plants that may aid us in developing a treatment. Needless to say, I’m restless — the image of Rosht’s smile is seared into my thoughts. But try as I might, I’m having little success locating any plants that might be useful. Just this once, I wish I had modern medicine to treat these Dragons!

As I return to four legs to reposition myself, the muffled sounds of a commotion echo through the root walls.

“—can’t do this!!”

That sounded like Kuro’s voice. What is she talking about?

“I don’t care,” an older drakaina rasps, her voice drawing closer. “That fress brings death.”

My body freezes. That was Sefri! And she’s talking about me! What does she mean, ‘I bring death?’

I have an awful feeling about this.

“But where is she supposed to go?” another voice, this time Nakino’s. A tinge of fear clouds his voice.

“That’s not my concern,” Sefri growls, her voice clear as she steps into the entrance of the den. “Daughter-Of-Kelani!”

The Chevil’s call echoes, a call I can’t possibly ignore. I step into the entrance of the the stock room to find Sefri at the foot of the connecting room, her tail swaying rapidly behind her. Our eyes meet, and a look of reproach draws across her face.

“Y-Yes?” my heart thunders against my chest. “What’s going on?”

“There you are,” Sefri chides. “With the sick, no less. Come closer.”

As I take a cautious step forward, Kuro and Nakino enter the room, standing on opposite sides of the brown Chevil. Kuro looks furious, like she was a feather’s edge from lashing out against Sefri. Her fierce loyalty doesn’t surprise me, but what’s Nakino doing? He’s holding his head low, and his face is filled with dread. They both know something terrible is about to happen, so why does he look so frightened of Sefri?

“Son-Of-Yzori,” Sefri growls. “How many Kin have come down with the illness?”

“S-six Dragons,” he stumbles, turning his wings inward. “One came to my den yesterday, a-and three more this morning.”

I gaze across the den to see the three Dragons, their faces filled with concern. Before Rosht’s condition began to deteriorate, I was helping to treat them while Nakino worked elsewhere.

Sefri looks at the same Dragons and shakes her head in dismay. “The affliction is spreading. This all began as soon as your blood was revealed to us.”

My blood?!

Is she… blaming the illness on me?! I thought she didn’t believe all that crap Relmoon said!

Kuro’s face twists in equal shock. A low growl rises from her chest, “Her blood doesn’t matter!”

Sefri snaps her jaws at Kuro’s face. “Hold your tongue, Daughter-Of-Mecali!”

Kuro stares down Sefri, silent and unflinching, refusing to cede an inch to the elder drakaina. By the Goddess, I would have exploded on Sefri if I were her. Kuro’s displaying so much restraint right now. Conversely, Nakino’s cowering behind Sefri’s wing with that same trepid expression, his muzzle clamped shut. Why isn’t he trying to defend me? Doesn’t he understand how wrong this is?!

Guess I’m going to have to speak for myself. I summon Mom’s diplomacy voice, trying to remain civil. “Sefri, with all due respect… what does my blood have to do with the illness?”

“Your blood is different,” she growls, straightening her neck to look down at me. “You’re different. Incompatible with us natural-born Kin. You could be the source of illness.”

A scoff passes through my fangs. “That’s preposterous!”

“Nakino,” Sefri gazes past her wing. “Have you determined how the illness is spreading?”

Nakino stares up at the elder Dragon. “N-no, I haven’t,” he stammers. “I’ve spoken—“

“Then it’s possible her blood could be spreading it,” Sefri concludes, inclining her head.

Nakino looks upset but again stays silent. Why isn’t he trying to defend me?! Where’s the bitter Dragon who became infuriated by the slightest annoyance? If all three of us were upset, we might be able to convince Sefri how absurd this is!

“Sefri,” I say, allowing a tinge of annoyance to seep into my voice. “This is going to sound strange, but we’ve figured out how illnesses spread in the Farlands. And there’s no way—“

She flicks her wing dismissively. “Don’t belittle me with your Farlander nonsense, Asha.”

“You’re being ignorant,” Kuro hisses a challenge. “Farlanders are clever, and know—“

“SILENCE!”

This time, Kuro’s head rears slightly as Sefri’s roar thunders through the den. The cracks in Kuro’s resolve dissolve with her surprise, and she lowers herself, twitching her wings like she were itching to fall into an attack posture. Conversely, Sefri seems to have realized she’s losing her composure. She ruffles slightly but keeps her steely gaze steady. Mom always told me leaders can’t lose their composure, and it seems Sefri is also aware of this. Her gaze slides between Kuro and me, and she lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m done arguing about this,” she growls. “Trouble follows your tailfeathers, Daughter-Of-Kelani. Until the illness can be controlled, you are exiled from the Grandfather Tree.”

Exiled…?

She’s … kicking me out of the aerie?

My breathing chokes up, and it feels like someone’s punched me in the stomach. This is the thanks I get for trying to save lives? The same treatment that Relmoon received?

“You bitch!!” Kuro explodes, splaying her wings. “You believed Relmoon, didn’t you?!”

RARRR!!

Sefri bellows, falling backward into a defensive posture and nearly knocking over Nakino. The two drakainas bare their fangs and issue savage warning growls. This is insane! I know Kuro is fiercely protective of me, but would she really attack an elder? Agh, damn it! I can’t allow her to destroy her reputation in the flock just for me!

“Wait!” I screech over the yowling.

The two dragons seize up and swivel their gaze toward me, fangs bared. They hold their aggressive posture, refusing to cede an inch to each other.

“Please,” I plead, taking a step forward. “Please don’t tear each other apart. I’ll go willingly.”

Kuro gasps, “But, Asha!!”

“Kuro,” I take two steps forward before abruptly stopping. The longing look on her face reminds me that I shouldn’t try to comfort her. “It was never my intention to cause strife in the flock. If I’m no longer welcome here, then… I’ll leave.”

Kuro stands with her wings open, panting for breath. She swivels her gaze to Sefri and then locks eyes with me. She has to understand that attacking an elder would get her exiled from the flock… I hope she can see the concern in my eyes. I would never, ever forgive myself if I caused Kuro to be exiled.

Finally, she allows her soot-plumaged wings to droop to the ground. “Alright,” she speaks slowly, lowering her head in acceptance. “But as your mentor, I’m coming with you.”

“But, what about me?!” Nakino pleads, pushing his way forward past Sefri’s wing. “I-I mean… Asha has been helping me treat the sick!”

‘Me..?’

…Seriously? That’s what Nakino’s concerned about? Not my imminent exile from the Grandfather Tree, the risk to my reputation, or the extreme danger I’ve been thrust into… but himself? I understand we’ve been working to develop a treatment, but… is that seriously the first thing that comes to mind?

‘Me?’

Something builds inside me. Those familiar, turbulent thoughts that haven’t shown themselves since I was first admitted to the flock… oh, this isn’t good. Kuro’s seen this side of me before, and she’s giving me a look that says, ‘Just give me the word.’ If Nakino keeps this up, then I may do just that.

“You’ve cared for our Kin since before Asha arrived,” Sefri says, folding her wings. “I have faith in you, Nakino.”

“But…!” Nakino pleads. “This is different! Asha’s taught me so much! If we work together—“

“Forget it,” Sefri dismisses with a flick of her tail. “It’s under your wings, Son-Of-Yzori.”

Nakino stares at me, distraught. A certain part of him is legitimately concerned… I have taught him a lot, and he relies on my judgment. But more than that, I’m certain he wants to keep me separated from Kuro. Kuro is a threat to our supposed relationship. We still haven’t spoken about what happened on Couple’s Night, and now he won’t get the chance.

…I stifle the small voice of guilt inside my conscious. Maybe if Nakino wasn’t so self-centered, I could have stayed in their aerie! It’s his fault!

I grunt and redirect my attention to my mentor. “Come on, Kuro.”

Gazing down like a judge, Sefri moves to clear a path and allow us to leave. Kuro jumps to my side and leans her head over my wings, issuing a faint growl to the elder Dragon as we pass into the foyer of Nakino’s den.

A crowd of ten or so Dragons has gathered on the roots outside, no doubt concerned by the commotion in the den. “Is everything alright?” a drakaina asks us as we pass her by.

I consider a response but keep my muzzle clamped.

They’ll soon learn what happened from Sefri and probably believe whatever twisted story she concocts about Kuro and me. Whatever. We have more important things to worry about. I’ve been scared to even leave the Grandfather Tree since we returned from Loner territory. Where are we supposed to go now? Will the other chevils welcome us? Could the elders at White Mountain turn on us, too?

Relmoon’s flock, the sloppy situation with Kuro’s feelings, and now this. My flight home to Ellyntide has never seemed so far away.