It seems foolhardy. It seems forward. It seems desperate. You feel like all three and more right now, and the view's spoiled by the stormclouds that just moved in out of nowhere, so fuck it. You head across town to the Adventurer's Guild lodge to try your luck with the best you can hope for right now.
Lucky break, it doesn't seem very busy right now. Ilyana's the one behind the desk when you come in - and you think she hesitates a hair before pretending she doesn't know you, but that's the furthest thing from your mind right now. You just drop the trousers of pretension and mutter "(look, it's Eldingar, may I speak with you in private?)" the minute you're close enough. A quick change-over as Ilyana retrieves her husband from a room in the back to watch the desk for her and off you go, back into the same private room you sat in only days ago. The main difference is that this time her trusty hound Tulip is sprawled out by the fire like the gargantuan pile of fur he is. Every now and then a faint doggy grumblesnore escapes the sleeping beast (probably magebred or otherwise magic-touched) as Ilyana finishes carting your personal ledger in and shutting the door behind her.
"You're in luck!" she says brightly, carefully opening the heavy old book. "You dropped in at just the right time, the adventurers sent to explore your claim came back with a great deal of-"
"I don't care about that right now, put the book away," you say irritably, waving it away like a cloud of smoke. Ilyana freezes in place, her eyes opening wide as dinnerplates.
"Oh no who died?" she asks, horrified.
"N-nobody!" you stammer. "I just... hhhave. Certain. Matters-
personal matters, that I felt you might be able to help me with. We'll talk about my investment later."
"Oh?" Ilyana snaps the book shut with a dull
thump and sets it down on the table. "I'd be happy to help, I'm just... confused, is all. What is it you think I could help with?"
Oh gods how do you even phrase this. You make a vaguely pained expression, your eyes darting all around the room before you finally settle on something.
"You're the only married person I know," you admit sheepishly.
"Ohhhhhhh." She nods, as if she were somehow expecting this moment all along. "I'll be right back with some tea. Won't be a minute!"
You're alone in the room again, left to twiddle your thumbs and regret everything. You allow yourself to slowly expand into your bipedal form at least, stretching out your scaly legs and shifting around in the padded seat until you find a semi-comfortable angle to hang your tail over one of the armrests. The sleeping behemoth awakens at some point while you're distracted, plonking himself down beside you with a heavy
thump.
"... yes?" you say. "What?"
"Boof," says Tulip.
"I don't know what you want from me, I don't have treats or anything."
"Ruff," says Tulip.
"What is this? Are you the welcoming committee while Ilyana is away? I don't need an unreasonably huge fluffy nursemaid."
Tulip rests his jaw on the armrest and wiggles closer, practically under your arm, and looks up at you with those big brown eyes just like Jun-ho would. You are a dragon, you fear no greater predator for none exists, your scales are like steel and your will is diamond, which is why you last eleven seconds before you start patting the dog. Immediately Tulip begins to pant happily, broad pink tongue unfurling like a banner, eyes half-lidded as your scales and claws scritch him like no good boy has ever been scritched before. The corner of your mouth slowly curls up in a smile.
The door opens again. You guiltily snatch your hand away and act casual. Tulip gives you a knowing "bork" but keeps your secret all the same. Ilyana sidles her away in with the tea tray and taps the door shut with her boot, setting everything down on the table. Thin white wisps of steam curl up from the cups as she pours the tea, then snaps her fingers. There's a twinned green flash from both, like wicks being struck.
"Ordinary calming herbs from the back garden seemed a bit inadequate," she explains. You take your cup and your first sip without a word of complaint, sinking back in your seat with a long exhale. Ilyana takes a seat and sips her own tea, seemingly content to let you speak first.
"Before we start I feel I should ask how much you already know," you say. "You did drop in on my spire once before so I'm sure you can surmise-"
"Let's not start off with assumptions," she cuts you off kindly. "Start from the beginning, pretend this is the first anyone's heard any of it. Much less likely to get all tangled."
"Right. Yes, that... makes more sense." You take another sip of tea. You're pretty sure the herbs she activated still won't be enough to affect you but you're willing to try anything at this point. "I know someone. A lot of the details about who he is and where he came from aren't strictly important. What is important is that I've known him for a while now and I value the time we spend together... quite a lot. I want to be with him, I know that much. I really do. But- it's just that I don't know how to get him to talk to me. He tells me that couples are meant to be open and honest, talk about their problems before they can get worse, but then he doesn't let us do that about him. He said such awful things about himself, he's-"
You shake your head. You drink more tea. You look into the fireplace rather than meat Ilyana's gaze.
"I just want to know how you handle it," you say. "Talking about things even when you'd rather do anything else in the world."
"Mm. It's the first thing you think at a glance, isn't it? 'They're so different, how did they ever wrangle it all long enough to be married so long?' " She makes relevant hand-gestures. "And yes, there was definitely an adjustment period. He had to get used to the fact I sleep four hours a night sitting up straight with my eyes wide open, I had to get used to skeletons doing the laundry - (Tulip still hasn't, I tried everything but he keeps chasing them)"
"Woof," Tulip says unapologetically.
"But I'm
sensing you're looking for advice regarding something a little more important than where to keep the laundry hamper," she goes on. Her expression and tone grow sombre as one, more serious than you've ever seen her before. "And yes, we did go through a patch like that. The False Hydra job - our last field work ever. I don't like to repeat any part of that job without good reason, so we'll skip to the end. Uptil was... scarred. In more ways than one. It's not as rare as I'd like it to be among adventurers. You train for it, but you don't expect to need it for your own husband."
She tucks one braid back behind her ear. "The thing I remember most was the balancing act, in the earlier days. He didn't want to talk about it, even think about it, but he hated being alone even more. It was like he needed me to just be... near him. We talked about normal things at times but it was enough that he could see me and know I was nearby if anything happened. That was the most important part of it I think. Just being there. Sometimes things can leave you feeling like the only safe place to be is alone, and loneliness can calcify, y'know? It layers itself around you, gets you trapped inside your own head until you can't see any way out but deeper in."
A warm, heavy weight lands on your feet. You glance down. Tulip is sprawled across your taloned feet, splayed out on his side like he has every right to be there. It'd be impolite to move him so you graciously let him remain, turning your attention back to Ilyana.
"It's a little like gaining an animal's trust," she goes on. "You have to understand that it behaves the way it does because it's trying to survive. Sure
you might know you have no intention of harming it, sure you just want to help, but it doesn't know that. As far as it knows it stayed alive as long as it did by mistrusting anything and everything. You have to prove that the two of you can coexist, you know? You prove you're not a threat - that takes time, that takes effort, and it takes letting them make the first move, no matter what."
You lower your gaze again. What you wouldn't give to have heard this yesterday, eh? Sure Belial would still be miserable but your chances of getting to actually talk about it wouldn't seem quite so remote. Tulip cranes his neck to return your gaze. You flex your ankle slightly, lifting him up and down a few inches in the closest approximation to patting him you can manage. The way he lets his head drop again, he seems to appreciate it.
"And try not to let the missteps get you down so much!" Ilyana adds. "Relationships are hard! Not a one is perfect all the way through, but you work it out in the end. Did that help any?"
You gaze into your reflection in the teacup, examining your vibrant blue eyes in the murky black mirror as if they belonged to a stranger. Just be normal. Just be normal. Let things play out and if he wants to talk to you about it he will. Give him space and just be normal. Can't be that hard, can it?
"I think so," you say with something vaguely approaching a smile. "Thank you, I didn't mean to take up so much of your time."
"Oh don't worry about it, anything for an esteemed repeat customer like yourself," she says cheerily, rising from her seat. "You can stay and finish the pot if you like, nobody'll be using this room 'til closing. Give me a shout if you need anything else!"
"Wait."
She pauses halfway to the door, ledger in hand, her outstretched hand nearly touching the handle. Tulip, of course, has made no effort to move.
"... how long did you know?" you ask. "You had two years to see through my... apparently very flimsy deception, but you never said anything. Why all the play-acting for my sake?"
She blows air through her lips. "I can't rightly say as to 'when'. Honestly it's such a stream of new and familiar faces running a place like this it's downright reassuring seeing you come in sometimes, haha. As to the 'why', well..."
There's a slight pause. Her shoulders rise and fall in a subtle shrug. "Wasn't our business to give you a hard time over something like that. Anything for a happy customer!"
You have no follow-up to that. You just gesture for Ilyana to go and attend to whatever piled up in her absence and sink further back in your seat as the door clicks shut once more. You take her up on her offer and keep at it with the tea, downing cup after cup of liquid so piping hot you can almost feel it. At long, long last you rise, and your warm furry foot-blanket rises with you. Tulip trots away as you shrink back down into your cambion disguise, hopping up on his hind legs and shoving the handle with his weight like he's done it a million times before. You likewise head home.
'Be normal, be normal, be normal' you repeat to yourself as you fly back, racing the last fading embers of sunset as the sky above you turns a vibrant purple-pink. No lingering workmen or golems to be seen as you circle around and land, and the front door is really starting to look like a proper castle door. You butt it open with your vast scaly brow and amble in, casting your eyes across your majestic abode. There's been a
lot of general cleanup work around the main hall, properly flooring the place - except for beneath your gold of course, they left that bit unfinished rather than risk your wrath disturbing it, very wise. They've even turned the old exit into a proper balcony type thing complete with a staircase expertly cut into the rock. The stairs down into the second floor have been similarly gussied up, and there are even what appear to be glass lamps set in a ring all around the inner wall, high up enough you can't imagine how mortals are supposed to service them.
They're all there. The ones left, that is. Lyrros and Abzu are seated on a pair of chairs they probably stole from the dining room downstairs, chatting away about something or other. Well,
Lyrros is doing all the chatting. He's probably talking about himself and having the time of his life doing it. Abzu is listening intently, and clearly having the time of their life doing it. On the other side of the pile you see Datu, arms up and flexing as hard as he can. Jun-ho hangs from his bicep, legs drawn up almost to his chest, swinging in the air with a gleefully-impressed grin on his face. You can't help but smile seeing it. You did worry about how they'd all get on with each other, but how could you know? They have fun when you're not even around.
Something strange coils through your stomach like a blind worm. Your brow furrows. You lift one great claw off the ground and bring it to your stomach, but then the feeling's gone. You set your foreclaw down again, and by then Jun-ho's noticed you.
"Hey Eldingar!" he calls. "Want a turn on Datu next?"
"I-
what?" you splutter. Datu laughs uproariously, setting Jun-ho down with a pat on the head for good measure. Lyrros and Abzu break off as well, turning to greet their boyfriend.
[Hey Eldingar!] Abzu signs. [Those torches weren't the contractors, by the way.] [I know basically all of us can see in the dark just fine, but I had some solar crystals lying around and I felt like chipping in!]
Clap-clap go the gooey wizard's gloved hands, and suddenly the ring of lamps come alive with warm, golden light. The lingering shadows of the coming night are banished all at once, and their glow dances and sparkles almost hypnotically across the many-faceted face of your precious hoard. You're practically spellbound.
"That was... that was very thoughtful of you," you say at last. "Thank you, Abzu."
[My pleasure!
]
You cross the vast space between the front door and your hoard, shifting and shrinking and reshaping as you go. You switch from quadruped to biped as easy as breathing, just to spin around on the ball of your foot and flop down spreadeagled on your gold. It's piled high at enough of an angle you can still see everyone just fine.
"So what did everyone get up to?" you ask.
[Oh, right! I took a look at that lamp Datu brought with him like you asked] Abzu replies. They're quick on the draw with those signs, but you suppose they have to be in a room full of people who can talk. [Fascinating stuff! I'll do a little more tonight, maybe have something to show you in the morning.]
"Datu taught me how to fight!" Jun-ho says excitedly. "Well a little bit. How to punch and block and dodge, and even a bit of wrestling! I've got a pretty bad build for it though - I know I'm pretty strong, but Datu could pin me down and hold me there no matter what I did!"
"No shame in being a beginner!" Datu adds. "And the offer's open to you too Eldy, whenever you've got an afternoon free." He glances over Jun-ho's shoulder. "But do keep in mind tapping out is... optional~"
Lyrros snorts. By the time you've turned your head to look at him he's oh-so-innocently covered his mouth, as if he were merely stifling a cough. You can tell by his eyes he's still grinning, though. And you don't have to check to know that Datu's definitely grinning too. Frankly even Jun-ho can probably grasp the innuendo at this point. You rock your head back and stare up at the ceiling, up to the shadowed apex where the interior walls meet. There it is again, that weird and nameless feeling.
"Oh, that reminds me," Lyrros pipes up. "Will Belial be joining us? He's the one in this merry band I've not had the pleasure of properly meeting yet, and I was looking forward to it."
Well, nothing for it. You grunt softly as you force yourself to rise, sitting up and wriggling until you have a nice dragon-shaped seat in the door-facing slope of your hoard. You drum your claws on sapphire and the brow-ridge of a solid gold skull with emeralds for teeth.
"Certain... personal matters arose," you say stiffly. "Matters that Belial wishes to deal with privately at present, and I intend to respect that. Belial is a valued guest here, and his comfort is paramount until if and when he so chooses to speak about the situation in greater detail. Until then I implore all of you to respect his and each other's boundaries, remain courteous, and above all - remain calm."
Then lightning strikes in the middle of your 'throne room'.
There's a brilliant flash of blinding golden light, the hissing crackle and pop of electricity and the deafening clap of thunder. Next a wave of
heat, rolling onward and outward like a physical wave, a blistering tide that strips all moisture from the stone and threatens to soften the gold. When your senses return you're sprawled out on raw stone, your painstakingly-shaped pile once more scattered to all corners of the cave, but the source of the catastrophy is far more important.
It's Makram. Makram in all his burning golden glory, more even - and less. He's damaged, cracked all over like a fine porcelain plate that's been dropped. The fissures in his body bleed not blood but blinding golden-white light, as if his body were but a thin shell wrapped around a miniature sun. A dozen golden fireballs orbit him like moons, leaving burning afterimages in their wake as they swing drunkenly around and around and around. Veering too far off course to correct and splashing against stone, spraying sparks and droplets of fire like rain where they fall. His eyes aren't focusing right, wide and staring with pupils shrunken to barely-visible pinpricks.
"Makram!" you shout. He turns to look at you.
"Mast- ast- ast- ast- hole, your fish has stopped, would you like to send a terror report?" he replies. He leans back, grasping at nothing for his usual cloud, and for a moment it does appear. But then it flickers, twitches, teleports an inch too far to the right and back again, then vanishes completely. Makram falls through and hits the ground hard, sprawled out like a ragdoll.
"Ifrit has encountered an unexpected problem and will now shut down," he tells the ceiling. Now it's his own form's turn to flicker dangerously, as if he were no more than an illusion about to be dispelled. "Your ifrit is over. Nine
. Thousand. Five.
Hundred. Years. Out of warranty. Would you like to order a replacement?"
"What-?
No don't do that!" you shout, scrambling to your feet. Something's seriously wrong with Makram and if you don't do something
now you don't know if you'll ever get another chance! Think think think-!
[ ] Tell Datu to do that trick he did to Lyrros. If it could force him to re-solidify from mist then maybe it can help Makram keep a his body together?
[ ] Tell Abzu to do... something. They're the wizard here, they can't hurt!
[ ] Tell Jun-ho to breathe fire on him. Ifrits are beings of fire and air, and you're pretty sure you remember Makram sunbathing to replenish his powers. If it doesn't heal him, you're pretty sure it won't hurt at least!
[ ] Tell Lyrros to help you find the lamp. He's the speedy one, and you remember something about djinn retreating into their lamps when their bodies get too damaged - maybe you can force Makram back in, keep him safe while you figure out what to do?
[ ] Use your last wish! Wish for him to be healed!
