Fantasy Come Fly with Me (AronTheAron and TifftheOdd)

[Aron the Aron]

The Tutelary Forest, so named for the whispers of guardians who protect their hallowed woods. To the ordinary outsider, the warm leaf-filtered sunlight and colorful greens masked the labyrinth of trees and rivers that was its true nature, turning travellers around and dissuading leisurely explorers from delving too deep into its depths.

For a Dragon like Necroa however, it was an unpleasant maze he had to navigate.

"And I thought things would be simple this time around. By Asherah, does this forest have no end?"

He never truly understood why a Dragon like him was ordered to make the arduous journey across the Southern Seas, but it wasn't like he had much choice. As a scholar of Primus, he was obligated to chase after any and all remnants of their ancestors; it was a duty he would normally take on with pride and apprehension.

He was currently feeling anything but pride as the greyscale Dragon touched down on wild grass for the umpteenth time that day. By then he couldn't help but let out a feral growl out of frustration; it had been nearing three days since he first crash-landed in the forest, and no closer was he to finding this supposed temple he was tasked to reclaim. Keeping track of where he had been and where he hadn't was difficult when it was his first real foray into the continent; it didn't help matters that the forest stretched far into the horizon in all direction everytime he flew up to get any bearings.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark often found herself wandering far from home. She usually wandered if something upsetting happened back in the village. She had become pretty good at finding her way among the trees, she had lived in Tutelary Forest for over half her life. She was growing rather bored though, the forest only had so many things for the young girl to explore on her own and it was rather lonely.

Not that she would tell anyone that. When her father asked, she always told him that she liked playing in the woods and that a few children would follow her as well. That was mostly a lie to keep her father from being upset.

Today the children had excluded her from practicing magic with them. Normally it didn’t didn’t bother her but today it had. She wasn’t sure why though but she didn’t dwell because she had found something very interesting in the forest today.

She had climbed a tree that she had been trying to climb to the top of for weeks, it was particularly deep in the forest. She hadn’t been very high in the tree when a gray creature landed very close by. It startled her and she almost fell out of the tree. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of the creature. She hadn’t even known there were dragons anywhere close to around here.

Lark craned her neck to try and get a better look at the dragon but that did make her fall from the tree. The young girl let out a short scream before she fell flat on the ground. She hadn’t been that high up in the tree but she still stayed on the ground, scared that the dragon might attack if it thought she was alive.

Yeah, playing dead seemed smart.

 

[Aron the Aron]

The scream had cut through the normally peaceful ambience, disturbing Necroa out of his frustration and into caution. That scream stood out from the rest of the forest, not belonging to any creature he would assume present; to him the high-pitched sound had one very alarming implication:

Something else was nearby, something foreign.

The idea was enough to put the Dragon on edge, quickly scanning his surroundings with glowing amber eyes for signs of immediate danger. He might not measure up to any trained warrior, but his eyesight always served him well in noticing details during long days of study and experimentation. So when he spotted a conspicuous mop of red along with an odd beige-colored... tjing, his slit-shaped irises narrowed further than they already were. Whatever it was, it wasn't moving, and against every sense of self-preservation advising him, he slowly crept forward on clawed feet.

Upon closer inspection, the creature Necroa had come across was a lot smaller than he initially thought. Clearly it was a bipedal creature judging by the shape of its limbs; it must've been one of those 'lesser races' that inhabited the continent after the Exodus. If he were to guess, maybe a Human or Elven whelp if the lack of body-covering fur was a hint. It was only about as long as half his forelimb if he correctly estimated its size, further suggesting it to be a juvenile of sorts. Its head could easily fit in his claws if he wanted to, but he had better things to do.

Giving the 'corpse' a good nudge with a claw for good measure, he finally huffed and turned around to leave. He knew the implications of a human/Elven whelp being in the forest, but he could easily tap into his magic, raw and unrefined it may be, to evade and escape. For now though, he disappeared deep into the emerald greens of the forest. He had to find a temple.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark tried her best to remain as still as possible. Dragons were rare and pretty feared in the Kingdom of Aisling. She didn’t know anyone who might have seen one before so she was having a hard time not looking. The dragon had spoken earlier which she was not aware that dragons knew how to talk. Well, she supposed that her knowledge on dragons was severely lacking.

She had to resist the urge to squeal when the dragon touched her. She laid as still as possible until the dragon had left. Lark sat up slowly, staring off where the dragon had lumbered off to. All Druids from the Tutelary were connected to the woods, even Lark. She looked down at the ground, grinning when she saw the footprints. The dragon hadn’t even tried to eat her so maybe it wasn’t violent.

She stood up and looked up at the sky, it would be evening in a few hours and her father would be worried about her if he wasn’t already drunk. Her mother’s death had hit her father pretty hard. Lark then thought of the children who had sneered at her. Her own cousin had been among those, Rowan, who hadn’t done anything to help her.

Lark then ran off, hopefully to find the dragon. She was never very good at thinking about how her actions might affect her later in the future. The dragon had been the first interesting thing to happen in these damn woods in years.

‘I wonder why it’s here? It hadn’t been hunting and I doubt a dragon would want to settle so close to Aisling. Oooh, I wonder if it breaths fire! I wonder how fast it can fly! I wond-

“Oof!”

She had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even noticed that she had caught up to the dragon and certainly not before tripping over his tail and falling again. She landed face first this time, quite comically. Her hood from her cloak had fallen on the back of her head. She groaned and slowly rose.”Ow! Ooh, my knee is skinned!”Her attention turned to her bloody knee, like she had completely forgotten the dragon.”I hope it scars...”She muttered. Her legs and arms were filled with many though they all got there from wherever stupid stunt Lark had been doing that day. She always said that it made her look tough, her mother and father usually thought it was funny.

 

[Aron the Aron]

To say Necroa was unamused would be putting it mildly. When it turned out that the supposed 'corpse' wasn't as dead as he assumed, he had several different trains of thought running along.

Part of him wanted to quickly rectify the 'presumed dead' aspect of the Human or Elven whelp. It wouldn't take that much effort to apply a lethal blow, even with his lacking musculature. Another part was curious; how did a Lesser whelp know the New Tongue? Much of the language was based on the ancient Draconic language, which he could understand and speak fluently (not that it would likely help him out on the mainland). The rest of him however, was cautious. A Lesser running around the forest meant there was likely more inhabiting said forest, and that was... well he wouldn't consider it good news at least.

Ignorant of the whelp tending to its leg, he began to concentrate. Magic began to gather within him, channeled and harnessed in his blood as he forged it into a force of his will. The ancient runes carved into his scales and wings began to glow with an ethereal lavender hue, and the air felt thick and heavy all around the greyscale before it inexplicably coalesced into tendrils of blinding energy.

Mana: raw magical energy notorious for being volatile beyond description, and something of a myth to the Humans. Lark suddenly found herself being ensnared by one of her legs by a tendril made of it, before being rudely hoisted up until her eyes were level with a certain Dragon's...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was busy with taking some cloth from her bag and cleaning the blood away, she knew how to take care of herself pretty well. She was also humming to herself as she bandaged her knee. She seemed to almost forget the dragon infront of her.

Well, that was until something wrapped around her ankle and held her upset down so that she was eye level with the dragon. She stared at him with big blue eyes, her hair hanging around her like a mane.

“Wow! How are you glowing like that? How are you making this tentacle thingy? Is it magic? It’s really pretty!”Lark had a lopsided grin though when she saw the expression on his face, her grin dropped to a neutral face.”You left me for dead! You didn’t even check to see if I was breathing!”She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the same unamused expression.”Very rude. And this-“, She pointed to the tendril,”Very very rude.”She then crossed her arms again.

 

[Aron the Aron]

...

Well that just proved Necroa that any ideas of questioning the Human/Elf whelp were worthless to him, but at least he knew for certain that the whelp, and by extension most Lessers knew the New Tongue, which would make any future communications with them easy. Not this one though; this whelp likely knew nothing.

"... Hmph, a waste of time." He grumbled, letting the raw manga backlash as he released his magic hold on Lark. This shortly led to her falling on her back, padded by the wild grass that maybe cushioned her fall by the slightest. As the Dragon turned to resume his search of the forest's temple, he already felt the physical backlash of using concentrated Mana.

That was one of the downsides to using raw Mana in magic, it caused severe mental recoil when released, and in the case of Necroa - whose methods of casting were a mixture of natural and artificial - physical recoil too. It was like steam in a way: keep it compressed too long and it would end violently, but releasing compressed steam was going to hurt.

The Runic engravings on Necroa's scales faded back to their usual ashen color along with the glow, which left him back in his typical grey color scheme. He was still marching off in a random direction as he fought off his migraine, which unbeknownst to him was the very same direction he needed to go...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was unhappy with the fact that he did not only not answer any of her questions and he just dropped her to the ground like a sack of potatoes! He had also called her a waste of time which did hurt a little but she decided to repress it. It was best to deal with that another day.

She had fallen for the third time that day, very close to beating her record of 4. She laid there for a few moments then stood open, following after the dragon.”You talk! You spoke! Do you have a name?”She had to jog a little to keep up with him since his stride was longer than hers.”My name is Lark. My grandfather is the Sage of the Forest.”She didn’t know if those words held any meaning to him.

He seemed like he was looking for something but she couldn’t fathom want her would be looking for. Oh well, she would just follow him. Even if she wasn’t full blooded, the forest still liked her. It wouldn’t let her get lost.”What are you looking for? I can help you, the woods favor my people. We are connected to it.”She explained.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Lark's words proved to have little effect on Necroa's focus, though her chatter of her people's connection to nature did trigger a new train of thought to ponder over. Sages? Connections to the forest? At first, he thought it but the nonsensical beliefs of the Lessers who lived in the vast forest; the forest had once been guarded by the Dragons long before they existed. But who was to say that times changed? The favor of the gods changed constantly, and while the Dragons surely still had Asherah's favor, who was to say they still had the blessings of other gods? Still, he needed to err on the side of doubt; the only things absolute in his eyes were his existence and his sentience. Thus he marched onwards with unwanted (and ultimately ignored) company scampering by his side.

As the blue skies began to fade to a gentle pinkish-gold, the first signs of hope stuck out among the endless sea of green. Stacks of large stones resembling markers, remains of stone bricks too finely cut to be a product of the Lessers (all of these Lark would recognize as being close to the temple)...

"Aleystra was right, there is a temple of the Fifth Son out here..."

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark scowled at the dragon continued to ignore her. Geez, and she thought that she was stubborn. He couldn’t ignore her forever. Lark kept following him though as they walked, she kept talking about random things. She seemed perfectly capable of carrying a conversation on her own. She would walk beside him until she was distracted by a bug or plant but she would always find her way back to his side. Like she said, she can’t lose her way in the forest. The last time the girl had wandered off, she had come back with a caterpillar crawling on her hand.”I bet it’s about ready to become a butterfly...”She said, though she looked up from it as the dragon spoke.”You said stuff again!”She reached over to a tree and placed the caterpillar on it.

It was then she noticed all the slabs of stone and she processed what the dragon had said.”You are looking for the temple? Ha!”She laughed and kept laughing for a few moments.”You have spent hours ignoring me and we could have been here sooner. I know where that is.”Her mouth turning up into a slight smirk.

“Grandfather says that the magic in the forest is strongest there.”Lark had been to the temple a few times. The whole tribe travels there to celebrate the New Moon but she had never been alone before.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Necroa had half a mind to squash Lark over the perceived slight. Pride was a universal and valued trait among Dragons; entire conflicts between Dragon Clans had spawned over insults to an Elder's image. Still, he couldn't help but admit that precious time could be saved if he acquiesced and turned to it for navigation. Loathe he was to say it, but he needed help if he wanted to be done with the forest anytime soon.

Peering down at the small child, he stared at Lark with eyes of amber. "Show me Lesser, and perhaps I won't kill you over the insult." He growled in a low tone. He made it a point to crane his neck downward to emphasize the size difference between them, as if to remind her who was the one with more power. If the whelp was speaking truth about the ambient magic, then it was imperative he reach the temple. Gods knew what had been taken and what had been left alone by them.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

“Don’t call me that!”Her voice was sharp and almost angry, the young girl glaring for half a second. Lark clearly hadn’t liked being called “Lesser”. She seemed to catch herself though and she closed her eyes for a brief second then opened them.”My name is Lark. My people live in the forest. Our magic stems from it. I’ve never been to the temple before but the forest won’t let me get lost.”She explained as she looked up at the dragon. He was large and she supposed he was scary looking.

He had sharp teeth and claws but so did most animals. If he thought that his size, features, and magic was going to scare her then he would be wrong.”I can do magic just like you so don’t just say rude things with no backing.”She picked up a dead leaf on the ground. She hid it in her and closed her eyes, gently blowing into her hand. The leaf fluttered from it and as it gently fell to the ground, the dead leaf turned a vibrant shape of green.

It wasn’t very impressive but it had taken her days last year to master that one. It was a spell taught to Druid children when they around 5. Lark ignored the fact that she had just turned 11, she was proud of her progress. The only thing that Lark seemed to excel in with Druid Magic was communicating with animals. It wasn’t like traditional talking, it was more like she could feel what they needed from her.

“See, we can both do magic. Now, come on! I think we are close!”Lark then ran off ahead of him, a large grin on her face.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Necroa sighed to himself as he quietly followed Lark from a few paces behind. The fact that the Lesser whelp was capable of using magic was a bit of a blow to Dragon superiority; he was the only living Dragon capable of casting magic. He at least boasted a far wider access to the 8 Cardinal Schools of magic, and the Lesser had so far only displayed a faint smatter of Life Magic, so he could comfortably back his threat.

Lark proved herself useful however; with her native know-how of the forest, her guidance expedited the search into a mere trip to the temple that now certainly existed. Following Lark as she hopped over creeks and ducked under logs, his large frame and comparatively titanic strength meant he simply stepped over or around whatever obstructed him. Quite comical to him that something that required fairly nimble movements out of the Lesser were but minor inconveniences, but that was one of the benefits of being a Dragon.

His thoughts were mostly of the temple he was rapidly arriving to. This was going to be the first place he was supposed to delve into, and he had no idea what awaited...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark led the way through the forest, though the young girl had no sense of urgency in her walk. She seemed to be enjoying herself, making a big show of jumping over the creeks and ducking under logs that the dragon was easily able to navigate.”I don’t think you’ll hurt me. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do so. I don’t think that you will.”She was obviously pretty confident in her judgement of the dragon. She had climbed over a log this time, jumping as far as she can.

“Why do you care about the temple? We don’t know who built it. We just know it’s the reason this forest has magic in its roots and why our magic is so strong here. My tribe have been protecting the temple and the forest for generations. The Sage even comes here once a month to meditate and be closer to the forest spirits.”Lark would never get to experience it despite the fact that her mother had always mentioned that it was her birthright.

No matter, she didn’t want to be stuck in this forest anyway. She wanted to explore the world so she could really care less about birth rights.

 

[Aron the Aron]

"Hmph, ignorant..." Was all Lark got out of the grey Dragon as he stomped along behind her. Despite the whelp's inane of spirits, her chatter of the temple and its effect on the forest was of great interest to him. It sounded like the temple was at least partially responsible for the forest's nature, which would mean something of importance laid inside the temple...

Something he had to recover.

...

Nearly a quarter-hour later, Necroa could finally see his goal within sight: a massive set of double doors hidden under the shade of trees several centuries old. Markers of stacked rocks bordered all around the moss-riddled ground, all of an origin and style Necroa recognized.

"Praise be to Asherah; the temple is one of ours and still stands..." He breathed with relief, his steps almost quiet and fleeting with reverence. The temple itself had signs of neglect on the outside, with cracks and fractures along the stone-like wood that made up the structure. The grand set of doors meant to guard against intruders had a sizeable gap near the bottom, easily large enough to let any Lesser walk inside unimpeded.

Well, he knew how anyone besides a Dragon could've gotten in now...

 

[Tiff the Odd]

“You aren’t very talkative.”Lark grumbled, she couldn’t believe that she was starting to get bored on this little hike. She had never seen the temple and really, she shouldn’t even be there. She wasn’t an Elder or a Sage. She never really cared much for rules though. She was starting to get tired of carrying the conversation so the young girl had finally settled into, what was in her opinion, an awkward silence.

She was quiet until she saw the doors hidden in the trees, her blue eyes going wide slightly as she stared at the doors. They were huge, she had heard they were but words had done it justice.”See, I told you I would get you there.”She walked up to the doors, placing her hand on it. She then placed it at her side.

“Why do you care about our temple? It’s just an old temple. It’s been here longer than my people have lived in this forest.”She looked back at the Gray dragon.

 

[Aron the Aron]

"That's because it was built by my people, Lesser. They built this temple long ago, though for what purpose I'm supposed to find out." Necroa too felt small when he stood up in front of the grand double doors, his claws scraping against the wood as he tested the doors. To nobody's surprise, they didn't budge under his lackluster strength, and he was too large to fit in the hole at the bottom of the doors (Lark could fit through comfortably, he noted on the side). Leaving the temple undamaged was non-negotiable in his eyes, so that left any forceful method of magic unviable to the Dragon.

Then again, who said he needed to use his magic with violence in mind?

Quietly moving a few steps to one side, Necroa made sure he was completely within the shadow of the forest canopy before he began casting. Like the first time he channeled the innate energy around him into his body, solidifying it into a tangible force he could use; unlike the first time, the Runes carved into his scales turned a sinister shade of pure black... Then his claws... then his wings...

By the time the minute passed, Necroa had taken on a cloudy, ghost-like form without any detail. Aside from the general shape of his body, it was impossible to make out any specific detail like his eyes or scales. It was as if he had become a literal, three-dimensional shadow.

Now in an incorporeal form, Necroa could make entry a trivial affair. Blatantly ignoring the fact that he tuned Lark out (the girl could easily just walk through the hole in the doors), he confidently strode up to the doors and pressed one of his claws against it. Just as he had hoped: his claw simply passed through as if he didn't exist; now he could get inside no problem!

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark scowled at him.”Stop calling me that! My name is Lark, like the bird.”She was starting to think that maybe she should stop asking him to call her that. She had learned to let the nicknames roll off her back like water on a duck but she really wasn’t going to take it from the dragon who just had to ask this “Lesser” to take him to his magical temple in the woods.

She decided to let it go for now to focus on the other words that came out of his pretentious, scaly mouth.”Dragons built this? I didn’t know dragons could build stuff.”She wondered if her grandfather knew about the temples origin.

Lark watched as the dragon tried to open the large doors. She could fit through the hole but there was a part of her that didn’t really want to go in. Or more like she was worried that she couldn’t get in, like some force would keep her from entering because of her mixed blood. What if she tried to walk in and something stopped her? She stared at the hole, only looking away when she noticed the dragon stepping into the shadows of the tree.

“What are you-...”She stopped as she watched with big eyes when the dragon’s runes started to glow a very scary black and his body faded. She had to focus to be able to see the outside of his body in the shadows. This dragon was one of the best magic users that she had ever seen! She watched as his class went straight through the door.

“Wow! Look at that! You are like a ghost!”Lark waved her hand by his front limb, grinning as her arm went straight through it. He could get in now and she looked back at the hole taking a deep breath. She slowly walked in and let out a sigh of relief when she found that she was easily able to enter through the hole.

“I’m really not suppose to be in here...”She didn’t sound upset, she sounded like she was smiling.”Ha, Rowan and the other kids are going to be so jealous.”

 

[Aron the Aron]

"Hmm... The temple appears to have deteriorated over the centuries; there's barely anything of Draconic origin left here."

By the time Lark had fully passed through the hole, Necroa had already rematerialized inside to begin his survey of the interior. The insides of the temple were as overgrown by nature as the exterior, looking more like a spacious cavern than a proper place of worship. Some facets like the centerpiece stone carvings on the floor were all that were Draconic in origin; other pieces like the massive stone idol hanging up high were unrecognizable, likely added by Lessers after the Dragons left three millennia ago.

As Necroa sauntered forward, he suddenly understood why Lark claimed the place to be strong in magical ambience: it was true. As a Dragon explicitly created with magic in mind, he could feel the essence of Draconic magic. The temple was generously flowing with magic, more than the Dragon had experienced before; it was an overwhelming assault on his senses as he studied his surroundings, making it a distraction to his foremost goal of investigation.

The only thing of immediate value was the stone carvings he was standing on, so that was where he began his study. Analysis was difficult though; severe degradation of the whole temple through natural exposure made the experience akin to solving a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces being blank. Still, he persevered through his renewed curiosity and scholarly desire to learn.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

The inside of the temple of massive. It was clearly very old, the forest had started to grow inside as well. The hole above them shone light on the floor, allowing her to see the carvings which were not Druid in origin.”Like I said, this place as been a spiritual place for my people for generations.”She couldn’t feel the magic as well as her grandfather could. Lark knew this place was oozing with magic, she could tell that much.

She looked around on the floor until she found what she was looking for. A circle made out of Druid runes next the wall under the idol. The wall also had carvings but they were names. Thousands of them, she walked along the wall until she came to the end of the names. There was a name “Leif”, that was her grandfather. Every future Sage comes here to put their name alongside their ancestors.

Some kind of emotion twisted in her gut when she saw the name under her grandfather’s. “Wren” was written in the stone. Her mother had been getting ready to take over as Sage when she died. She swallowed thickly then turned her eyes away, wanting to focus on something else.

Lark noticed the dragon was staring at the floor, probably at those strange markings. She walked over to him, getting on her knees to examine whatever he was looking at.”What are you looking at? What are these markings? You said they your people built this place so do you mean dragons? I didn’t even know dragons could build temples. It protects us, the magic here. Our village is so outside the kingdom that we are on our own if we get attacked but raiders usually get lost in the woods. Kind of like you did.”She then looked at the dragon, a looking of suspicion but also she looked scared for a moment before it faded.

“You should just let the temple be, we can’t mess with the magic here.”Lark was all for a little rule breaking by entering the temple but disturbing it made her feel all icky and she definitely didn’t want to mess with the magic.

 

[Aron the Aron]

“You should just let the temple be, we can’t mess with the magic here.”

"Trothar... Marfedelom... Malrak..." Necroa's words cut through the empty sounds of the temple as he moved, eyes still intently scanning the markings along the ground he walked. The Ancient Runes carved into the ground matched some of the Runes on his scales, though erosion and wear had reduced some of the Runes on the floor to an almost unrecognizable mess. Some were unmistakable however; certain words stuck out like a sore thumb that rang alarm bells in his head. "These Runes don't belong in a temple..."

It had clicked once he recalled Lark's earlier words and the thick atmosphere of magic he had felt. Magic couldn't just be present without something being a source, but temples didn't produce magic on their own unless...

"This isn't a temple. This is a tomb."

It made so much sense when he made the connection. "That's why the forest is flowing so strongly with magic. If the Ancient Dragons indeed built this sanctuary, it was to bury one of their own. One that must've been capable of powerful... magic..."

(Late post; having roommates do stupid shit like flooding a bathroom is fun)

 

[Tiff the Odd]

Lark was glad that her words were going unnoticed by the dragon, making her huff. If she wanted someone to ignore her presence then she would just go back to her village. She stood back, watching as he muttered to himself. She couldn’t read the runes though she did notice a few matching the symbols on the dragon. The dragon who had yet to introduce himself, completely ignored her, but decided she was worth talking to when he had figured out whatever puzzle he had been trying to solve.

“A tomb? I’ll make sure to not mention that to anyone back home.”Lark didn’t think they would believe her anyway.”Well, if that’s the case then it’s been here for so long that the forest has made the magic it’s own. So, what are you going to do now? I hope you don’t plan on doing anything that will hurt the forest...”She wasn’t a full Druid but she would still protect Tutelary. The forest had always been good to her.

“Let’s leave, if it’s a tomb then we shouldn’t disturb it. Is the dragon buried? I hope not. Druids don’t bury their dead. We burn them and use the ashes to plant trees. The magical energy left behind by whoever died causes the tree to mature in a few years.”She was nervous to be in here, knowing it was a tomb. Dead things freaked her out, it was one of the few things that did.

(Ooof, sounds annoying)

 

[Aron the Aron]

"To burn an Ancient Dragon's remains is an exercise in futility; you would do better trying to blot out the sun." Necroa lifted his head to the strange idol hanging high overhead, somewhat disturbed that the grave of his progenitor had unknowingly become a place of worship to another people. "Regardless of your views over how my ancestors treated their dead, I now know the purpose of this recluse. Mayhaps it hides further purpose with the remains of its sole occupant, which in part I would be obliged by duty to explore."

He didn't need much of a look around to know that aside from Grave Robbery, his options for further exploration of the tomb were limited. "Unfortunately for me, I see nothing I can recover and return to the Clan; unless your people have taken artifacts from this place, I see no further reason to remain in this blasted forest. Aleystra will be disappointed to know nothing of use could be recovered..."

One last scan of the tomb confirmed that there was nothing save the carvings at his claws and the crude additions made by the Druids. He didn't like leaving empty-handed, but as he turned to face the closed doors he passed through earlier, he couldn't help but shudder from presentiment. Something told him he would be returning to that tomb in the future...

For now though, it was time to leave.

 

[Tiff the Odd]

“Yeah, I suppose I can see why trying to cremate a dragon would be hard.”Lark chuckled. She didn’t know much about dragons but she knew that some were able to produce fire. She assumed that most, if not all dragons, were fire resistant. She took one more look around the large room and the idol hanging over head. It wasn’t one of their idols, especially since Druids really only worshipped one Goddess. She wondered who had been here before to carve out such an idol.

“No, my people believe this place is sacred. We don’t even take rocks home from this place. I doubt that anyone took anything.”Lark didn’t think it was so bad to be the center of a magical forest.”At least the dragon isn’t alone in death and it protects a whole group of people. I wouldn’t say that you are leaving here empty-handed.”She thought it was kind of amusing how the dragon seemed so annoyed with the forest.

“You never told me your name. You know mine, though you seem hesitant to use it.”Lark could tell that the dragon was disappointed to be leaving without something to bring back to whoever had sent him here. She walked towards the large doors, standing by the hole that she had used to pass through earlier. She turned back to wall though and quickly ran over, kneeling beside it. She placed her hand on her mother’s name on the wall, closing her eyes. She tried her best to sense her mother’s spirit or energy. She wanted to sense her mother some how. She couldn’t though.”Bye, Mama.”She whispered softly, standing up and taking a deep breath to squash any negative emotions down.

Lark then grinned and ran back over to the door.”Come on, if you want to rest then I know the perfect place.”She ran through the hole and waited for the dragon on the other side.

 

[Aron the Aron]

Necroa grumbled some incoherent words as Lark raced off and out the way she had entered; he barely knew the whelp and had no intention of remembering her for longer than the next hour, yet she was acting friendly towards him. He was suspicious of treachery, though he questioned himself over if a whelp of her nature could even concoct such ideas without giving it away. She came from somewhere within the forest, somewhere with more Lessers that he could not gauge if they posed a threat to his wellbeing...

Regardless of his wariness, the Dragon gave one last look at the center of the tomb. "I will return one day; the power I've sensed, I will harness and add to my own."

Desires and ambitions reaffirmed, he turned and began to walk towards the door he passed through. The darkening skies of evening generated shadows aplenty in the lonely tomb, shadows that blanketed the onyx Dragon as he casted another spell of Dark Magic. He felt shadows lick and bite at his Runes as he faded from the physical realm, incorporeal and nigh-invisible to all as he cleanly passed through to Tutelary Forest outside.

And with Necroa's departure, the tomb fell into solitude...