a collection of tales [[ chronocompass writing ]]

Alfred was a quiet fellow, someone who enjoyed his own space and his own time. When he went wandering in the middle of the night, only his dragons came with him. The group traveled as a pack, determined to keep each other safe and free. He never really told anyone in Salvus when he was leaving - just put on his mechanical leg and got to walking. His dragons needed no prompting, but simply followed, Aspen in his pocket, Hiraeth scouting ahead, Myr watching behind them. The forest here was peaceful, to be sure, but it was also potentially dangerous. Anything could be.

As the group wandered, Alf began to get a very odd feeling. The moon was only a sliver in the sky, and as Myr led them slowly further from what had become their home, Alfred got slowly more nervous. It just didn't feel like a good night to be out. He reached out and gave each of his dragons a mental message. 'Perhaps we should just find a quiet spot in the town?'

Before any of his dragons could answer, a lonesome wail rang out through the trees. Aspenfall burrowed deeper into his pocket in fear, and Hiraeth darted in front of the others, claws out. Myr, however, had a different reaction. "Someone could be in trouble! We've got to go and help!" she declared.

Alf sighed, but had to agree. He steeled himself for whatever was going on and jumped up on Myr's back. The dragons and rider ran towards the sound, trying to be as quiet, but fast as possible. The sound continued as they got closer, until at last the scene was revealed. Thankfully, there was no attacker, no enemy to fight, but there was still quite the issue in front of them.

A large, monstrous dragon was dragging her rider, a small t'terre, along behind her. Or at least, Alf thought that the rider was a t'terre. The poor person was so covered in dirt and blood that he wasn't sure if they were still alive. He scrambled off of Myr's back and hurried over to try and do something, anything, to help.

The dragon saw him and hissed a plea. "Please... my rider - I think she's gone -"

Alf kneeled down and did his best to check for a pulse, with shaking hands. Aspen tried to poke her head out of his pocket, but he shook his head and she hid away again. Thankfully, there was a pulse there, but it was so faint, he knew that it was too late to run for help. He felt himself being filled with panic. With the death of a rider, the dragon would fall as well.

He looked up to the despairing dragon and gave her a look that he hoped could express all his feelings, all his sadness and worry and fear for this being he hardly even knew. The dragon gazed back, understanding and quiet acceptance in her eyes. But as the two looked at each other, something happened.

In Alfred’s desperation to do something, anything, to help, he reached out for the dragon with both his mind and a hand, and the dragon reached back. In a way that Alf had thought impossible, he felt the familiar sensation of a new bond with a new dragon. But that didn’t make sense, that’s not how bonds worked -

The dragon was still filled with sadness, but also now a shining hope. Had Alf just saved a dragon? The other dragon rider was smiling up at them now. He could tell that she was just glad that one of them would keep on going.

Alf didn’t feel glad. He felt very confused, and worried, and a hundred other things, but he accepted that this was how things were now. This was a thing he could do. They stayed with the rider until the t’terre breathed her last, and Alf did his best to be comforting, until a small hole was dug for the former rider and they had to leave her behind.

Alfred and the new member of his little team stayed like that for a while. Hiraeth brought back some flowers and Myr gave them a sparkling glow. When, at last, the group began the trek back home, no one wanted to be the first to break the solemn silence. So no one did - they stayed in the quiet, and pondered what had happened.