Prysmi was elegant and lean, agile and small. At her shoulders, she was just eight feet tall, her wingspan just over twenty-six feet in length. Her tail was nearly double the length of her body, ending in the razor-sharp halberd that was her main weapon.
“Can you breathe fire?” asked Reia, curious. “Maybe you could help me control my magic better?” But Prysmi was shaking her head.
“I am a silverback dragon,” she explained.
“What does that mean?” asked Alleria. “You can’t breathe fire?” The dragon shook her head. “Can you breathe… anything?” Again, Prysmi shook her head no.
“I guess I have forgotten how little the citizens of the Far Land know of my kind,” she lamented, a deeper sadness beneath the surface. “I should reiterate—I am the last silverback dragon.”
The clearing became quiet, everyone now listening to the majestic and sad creature before them. Even Midiga, back turned to the rest of them, had an ear cocked in her direction. “We silverbacks were hunted to extinction for our scales, which are thin and sharp, light, and hard as a diamond. We are the smallest of dragons—I am full grown, even considered large for my kind. We cannot breathe fire or use any kind of magic. Our tails are our weapons, some ending in spearheads, some in spikes. Mine, of course, is a blade.
“The last time I saw another silverback was over ten years ago… The poachers got to him before I could. I tried to stop the attackers, but they knew exactly how to take us down. They were professional silverback hunters, after all, and knew all of our weaknesses. They went right for his wings… Without mobility, we are extremely vulnerable. If I had gone back to rescue him… they would have killed me, as well. I escaped, saving my species from total annihilation. Alas, it was all for nothing. I am the end of the line...
“I encountered Mavark soon after. I never expected to bond with a human. Perhaps it was my isolation that drove me to his company. But, nevertheless, we’ve been together ever since.” Her azure eyes were wet, and Alleria was stunned, shocked that such a powerful creature was shedding tears right in front of her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling dreadful and empathetic.
Prysmi turned her head toward the elf, her eyes portals to an entire universe. “Each day, I celebrate life—you should do the same. Do not dwell on the past. That will get you nowhere. We must all look ahead.” Mavark had come up to her side, placing his forehead on the dragon’s shoulder. Her chest hummed in what would be the equivalent of a cat’s purr. Midiga’s ear twitched.
The story had sobered the mood, with everyone falling into silence for a while. Alleria and Reia went into the woods to fetch firewood, as they preferred to do each time they made camp. Alleria knew she was good at making fires, and she enjoyed doing it. She liked the feeling of being useful, and this was a way she knew she could be. She and Reia would spread out, never farther than they could hear each other’s thoughts, and would collect only the most perfect tinder.
Emery perched high in the boughs of a tulip tree, the tallest tree she could find in the area. She felt more comfortable high above everything where she could see what was coming and monitor each of her friends. Friends. She savored the thought, having been without those she considered friends for so long. Even Laderic, though he got on her nerves more than anyone had in years. She was ever thankful she had continued to travel with them even for a few more days, if anything just to extend this feeling of—dare she say—happiness, for a while longer.
Midiga could not focus. She had stopped even trying to meditate after a while and was only trying to relax, but even that was not working. She was tired, but in an irritating way, more mentally exhausted than physically. She couldn’t stop her mind from turning and working, and if she didn’t get some of this energy out, she was going to explode. “I’m going for a walk,” she announced, a little louder than she had intended, standing from her spot on the ground, and turning toward Laderic.
“I’ll come with you,” he said immediately, standing to follow her. As he stood, he became lightheaded, stumbling backward a few feet.
“No, stay here,” Midiga chided. “You’re exhausted.”
“You shouldn’t go alone though,” he pleaded, walking toward her. “Please don’t.” His eyes were wide, fearful. Though it seemed like a lifetime ago, he remembered all too clearly the incident with the bear.
The felid sighed, frustrated. She was about to change her mind and sit back down when Prysmi spoke up. “I’ll go with you,” she said, taking a few steps toward Midiga, who took an instinctual step back. “I’ll need to get out of this saddle first.”
Midiga narrowed her eyes, confused, but watched curiously, as Mavark removed the leather saddle from her back, and Elwyse along with it. The necromancer was still unconscious, sleeping peacefully, his hands tied tightly with rope. Mavark placed him beside Odie, who whined and curled up by his side.
The drake alamorph leaned his back against the cliff-face, crossing his arms. “Don’t be gone too long. I might need you if our friend here wakes up,” he told Prysmi.
“I’ll be here—” started Laderic, before breaking into another huge yawn.
Mavark tilted his head, eying Laderic incredulously. “And you’ll be asleep if anything goes down. No offense, but you’re useless until you’ve had some rest.”
Laderic opened his mouth to argue and, instead, yawned yet another time. “You’re probably right.” He groaned, sitting back down on his bedroll. “Fine.”
Prysmi shook her body back and forth, stretching after getting out of the saddle. “That thing is so stiff,” she mumbled, extending her wings in another stretch. They were huge, covering most of the clearing in shade.
Without warning, her scales began to glow. The light coming from her body was so bright that Midiga had to look away. What is happening? Midiga wondered feeling panicked once again. Instinctually, she reached behind her back for an arrow, though remembered after a moment that her bow had been shattered. She cursed, with nothing to do now but wait until the light died down. Her heart was pumping wildly, and she braced herself for whatever was to come.
As the light faded, Prysmi was nowhere to be found. In her place was another drake alamorph, a woman this time with silver hair. Her wings were large and feathery, and her tail took the shape of a halberd at its end. Wait—Prysmi?
The dragon had taken the shape of a human before their very eyes. She had snake-like features, an angled face, and scales dusting her skin. She wore silver armor that looked to be made of her own scales and similar in structure to Mavark’s heavy armor. At her side, she carried a long, thin sword in a silver scabbard. She held an unnatural beauty similar to the elves.
She extended the wings on her back to steady herself, appearing angelic for a moment. “Oh, it has been a while since I’ve taken this form,” she said sheepishly, blushing. She made eye contact with Midiga, who quickly looked away after realizing she had been staring. Prysmi inspected her new body, checking everywhere to make sure she had morphed correctly.
“I got firewo—Prysmi?” Alleria came out of the woods and nearly dropped the armful of firewood she had collected. “You can change into a human? You are so gorgeous!”
“Why, thank you,” hummed the dragon-woman. She folded her wings behind her, the tips so long that they brushed the blades of grass beneath her feet. She noticed Midiga’s shock and took a few slow steps toward her, hoping this form was less intimidating than the other. “All dragons have the ability to take human form, I included. I am just around Mavark so much that I forget that most normal people have not interacted with a dragon before.”
“N–no, it’s fine,” Midiga stuttered. “It was just surprising, is all.” She quickly whirled around, facing the trees and steadying herself. She took deep breaths to slow her heartbeat.
“Wonderful. We shall be off then,” Prysmi confirmed, sounding a bit nervous, nodding toward Mavark as she and Midiga headed out into the forest together.
Laderic watched them go. “It
makes me feel so much better that she went with Midiga,” he sighed. He leaned back on his palms, relaxing. He closed his eyes. “Man, I am exhausted.”
Alleria was busy building a fire, Reia fetching her sticks from their pile of wood. “Me too,” she said, fighting another yawn. “After I build this, I’m going right to sleep.”
It didn’t take her long at all, and once she was finished, she and Reia curled up in her sleeping bag. Sleep took her easily. Laderic had already fallen asleep, snoring quietly with his mouth open. Mavark watched over them, stoic, glancing toward Elwyse every few minutes in case the necromancer were to show any signs of waking.
Midiga and Prysmi walked in silence for a long while, Midiga in front with Prysmi following quietly behind. Together, they enjoyed the ambience of the forest in their own way. Midiga relished in the refreshing feeling of soft moss and dirt between her paws as she walked. Birds sang high above them, flitting between branches in a colorful dance. Ahead, she could hear the gurgle of a small body of water. She headed that way, albeit subconsciously, as she was lost in her own thoughts. Occasionally, she glanced back at the dragon-woman who followed her, though unsure if she was making certain she was still there or hoping she had disappeared.
Prysmi was hyperaware of how nervous Midiga was around her, but she tried her best to pretend she hadn’t noticed. Most people, in general, were fearful of dragons, hearing naught but terrifying stories of their wrath. So she couldn’t blame the felid for her demeanor. She was going to try her best to prove her wrong, which was why she volunteered to accompany her in the first place. Laderic knew Prysmi and had encountered other dragons in the past, and so was unfazed by her presence. The elf was naïve and curious, and those feelings overtook whatever natural wariness she might have had. The fae woman, if she was to be true to her species, was not afraid of any of the natural beasts of the Far Land, for the fae were the most connected with nature of all.
But the felid… Knowing their already suspicious and nervous natures, she knew Midiga would be a tough one to win over. She knew of the cat-woman from Laderic’s brief mentions when they had traveled together years ago, and she was determined to make a good impression, especially if they were to be staying in Strita for a few days before moving on.
Plus… there was something about her. Prysmi couldn’t shake it. The dragon hadn’t encountered many felidae in the past. Strita was nearly exclusively humans, though was inclusive of all races. Since it was such a small town without any major trade routes going through, having visitors beyond the usual suppliers was a rarity.
It was strange, watching this woman who was so different from her, and yet so similar. Felidae, like dragons, were extremely close to the beasts of the natural world. They were created by the gods not long after the dragons, after all. To be sentient, but also feral, it was a combination unique to the animalistic races of the Far Land. And Prysmi was drawn to that, to someone else that shared that same experience. She hadn’t spent time with anyone like her for so long… so long…
“Oof!” Prysmi walked face first into a tree branch. Midiga turned to watch as the dragon ducked under the branch, careful that her wings did not get caught, either. “Sorry,” Prysmi mumbled, apologetic. “Lost in thought.”
“That makes two of us,” Midiga said, turning back around and continuing to the creek. They came upon it shortly after, the water having carved a path through the trees, heading southwest. It was clear as glass, with fish darting up and down the stream, swimming up the miniature waterfalls that cascaded over small rocks. They scattered when Midiga and Prysmi approached, but then slowly went back to their normal business.
Midiga began to scan the area, searching the ground. For what, Prysmi had no idea. The dragon sat down on the edge of the creek, fanning her wings slightly to catch some of the sunlight that was beaming down at them. The water had cut a natural hole in the green ceiling of trees, warming the water and giving light to the flora around them. Flowers that normally could not grow this deep in the forest were flourishing near the water’s edge. Prysmi caressed the petals of a yellow blossom, enjoying the way they felt on her fingertips. In her human form, many of her senses dulled, but not the sense of touch. This—along with taste—was greatly intensified. She enjoyed feeling different textures with her hands while in human form and definitely preferred to eat this way.
Midiga eventually found what she was looking for, picking up a long, thin branch that was still green in the middle. With a small dagger, she cut off the smaller branches attached to it until it was just a straight pole. She then began to dig through the brush, looping her claws under some thick, green vines, and stripping them from the bark they were attached to. Prysmi was fascinated, watching as the felid delicately split the vine down the middle with her dagger, slicing it down its length in the center with her knife. Then, she carefully peeled a hair-thin sliver of sinew from its center, separating this single strand from the rest of the vine. She expertly tied this elastic line to the tip of the pole she had made. Only after this did Prysmi recognize the tool she was creating.
“A fishing rod,” she stated. Midiga nodded, wordless, as she plucked a barbed thorn from the trunk of a different type of tree, fastening it to the other end of the line. She pulled on the line, testing the tautness of her knots and the flexibility of the rod before sitting down on the edge of the water, several meters away from Prysmi. She cast her line into the water, staring at the thorn at its end intently.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes, the dragon having a million questions on her mind but unable to bring herself to ask them. Fish darted back and forth, some curiously swimming up to the thorn but not taking a bite. The tension was building, and Prysmi could not hold her tongue any longer.
“Don’t you need something on the thorn as bait?” she asked innocently.
Midiga shook her head. “The thorns of the ralai tree secrete a sap that is tempting for fish. It’s the easiest way to make a functional fishing rod, especially if you don’t have anything to bait your own hook with.” She recited all of this as if she had memorized the exact words from a textbook. She smiled to herself, still keeping her eyes trained on the thorn in the water. “Give it time—they’ll come around.”
And she was right. Within another couple of minutes, one fish became too curious and decided to go for the sap. The line grew taut, and Midiga jerked up hard on the rod, standing and pulling with her whole body. The fish pulled back, and a tiny struggle ensued. Unfortunately, the rod could not handle the tension, and the pole snapped in half after only a few seconds.
Midiga stood, frozen with only half of the rod clutched between her paws. Prysmi flinched as the rod broke, watching Midiga, tense. After a moment, the felid flung the other half of the pole into the woods across the creek, yowling, and cursing in her own language. She sat back down on the banks of the creek, putting her face in her hands, defeated.
Prysmi didn’t know what to say. “Hey… it’s all right,” she attempted. Midiga was silent, ignoring her. “Why… don’t you use your weapons to catch one?”
“I don’t have a weapon. My bow is in pieces,” Midiga snapped, jerking her head up and staring daggers at the dragon-woman. “Obviously, I would have done that first if I had one and not gone through the trouble of making a stupid fishing pole.” She put her head back in her paws, exhaling harshly.
Prysmi was a bit taken aback but was still concerned for the felid. “I didn’t mean a weapon like that,” she clarified. Midiga glanced over at her, slowly lowering her hands. “I don’t even really use this thing. It’s just for show,” Prysmi said, gesturing toward her own sword in its scabbard with a look of disgust. “I meant your weapons—those.” She slowly reached out, taking Midiga by the paw. Midiga watched, a bit shocked, as the dragon turned her hand over and pushed on her pads, unsheathing her claws.
“Even in my human form, I prefer my natural weapons to any tool,” she stated. She let go of Midiga’s hand, holding her own hands up before their
eyes. They, too, ended in claws. “These,” she started, then gesturing back toward her bladed tail, which she lifted slightly into the air, “and that.”
Midiga’s first reaction was doubt—how could she hunt with just her claws? But… a memory was surfacing in the back of her mind. A memory from the battle, of her shattering the seals on the skeletons’ chests with nothing but her claws. A memory of adrenaline, of passion, of desire… Suddenly, she realized she was staring at Prysmi and quickly looked away. “Okay,” she conceded hastily, standing and heading down toward the water. Prysmi smiled, following her down the banks into the creek.
They spent the next few hours fishing with nothing but their natural weapons. Prysmi’s hands appeared as human hands but were crowned with thick, sharp claws instead of fingernails. Midiga, claws unsheathed, eventually got the hang of things. They stalked their prey, plunging their hands into the crisp water and snatching them out of the creek. Soon, they were catching fish left and right, pulling them from the water quite reliably, breaking their necks, tossing them into a pile behind them.
They had started out working in silence, but soon, got to small talk about the task of fishing. This led to a more friendly conversation until the two were actually making jokes and laughing aloud. Midiga could feel herself growing slightly feral but was able to keep it under control. Fish never did it for her quite the way the large game did. Besides, this work was fun, and she didn’t feel nearly as serious as she did when she was pursuing a deer. She actually felt quite alive, unsure as to why she hadn’t been fishing this way all along. Oh, well, she thought, this is definitely how I’m going to do it in the future.
The sun was making its descent when they finally took a break. The tension between them had been broken, and Midiga felt much more relaxed than she had since they started their walk. “I’m so glad we did this,” she said genuinely. Her stomach rumbled, and she laughed. “Guess we should eat some of our prey, huh?” Prysmi grinned, nodding excitedly. Midiga reached into the pile and grabbed a fish, bringing it up to her mouth, raw. She stopped though, looking up at Prysmi. “I guess we should cook some for you, huh?”
Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1 Page 19