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Shining Wyrm & The Blood Immaculate [Original Fantasy/Dragon Fiction]

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RoadrunnerJ said:
Do we have a eta on the illustration for this book? I really love the way your art brings stuff to life.
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That actually reminds me, Does anyone have specific moments they would like illustrated? I'm planning to only do one per 'arc' (that is there will ultimately be only 12 illustrations and 1 cover).

But I've not settled on what I want to depict for each. I'm pretty confident I can make a passabel attempt at everything that happens in the story so there is no concern there, but my time is not in fact infinite.

Also to answer the question we are looking at week I think to have me finish the cover and then I'm gonna be post bombing royal road.
 
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That's a good question. I think Jewel meeting Fizzbunches in her bath seems like a fun image. But the combat against Terror Boar would be cool.
Depend what you want to emphasize.
IMO Showing Jewel interacting with someone is the best use of an illustration.
 
What I really want to see is something fitting the description of "tiny Jewel's adorable shenanigans" but I am not sure there is much in the story to that end.
 
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And Here we go, I am starting the great update spam on Royal Road for Shining Wyrm.

I'll put in illustrations later, but since that platform does not even reliably show illustrations by default on half the platform defaults It's not likely to be much of a loss.
 
Hey, thanks for writing this story. It's charming and pastoral in places while also setting up a very satisfying character arc for a protagonist I rapidly grew invested in. I especially appreciated the commitment to realism in a feudal society and the care given to the many interludes and alternative perspectives. Great work!
 
Someone just tried to steal my book and screen name on amazon.
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    • Some one just Fucking tried to steal this story.

    If you could all be dears please report them. I am already pursuing this with amazon as well but I have no qualms with doing this too. Also proof that's not fucking me even though they tried to steal my screen name too.


    Edit: For those checking in after the fact this was resolved quite quickly.
     
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    • 1.1
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    • 1.1


    It was Jewel's hatching day.

    The third day after the dawn of a new year.

    She was now fourteen winters aged, and she would be married to her betrothed in two more years and some seasons.

    As was the proper duty of a Lady, a daughter, a Baroness and an heir to her father's liege.

    Jewel shifted herself and pumped wyrmflame through her coils so that she could mostly hang over the tub while soaking the membrane and fingers of her left wing in soothing hot water.
    At least her growth had finally begun to slow.

    Not stall entirely, but she was considerably slower to gain notable differences in the length of her coils from snout to tail, or the extent of her wings, arms or legs between them.

    Jewel slowly pulled her left wing from the water, flexing her wyrmflame through the air to push the clinging droplets from her scales and the furled expanses of skin. Rolling over to her right side to give her other wing a soothing soak in the hot water and lavender oils.

    For the last few years her growth that had once been measured in feet per year had begun to slow, inch by inch.

    According to her friend and attendant Wizard Tsulogothulan, her growth had likely been slowing since she hatched, but the initial rate was so vast as to have carried her to the present length of nearly thirty feet.

    She gently pulled her right wing free, pushing the water off it as she had the left. Then twisting in mid air to present her belly before letting her flame drain from the hovering mass. Sinking luxuriantly into the still steaming water, letting it sooth her for the special day.

    Her poor bath-tub no longer properly fit. Simply attempting to submerge all of herself at once would force the vessel to empty entirely, even without the risk of splitting its iron banding.

    It had been over a year since Jewel had been able to do more than soak a portion of her length in the hot cleansing waters at any given moment.

    She shifted slowly and luxuriantly down her coils from her wing shoulders. Sliding up in a hump with the aid of wyrmflame and the bracing of her fore and hind legs. Dragging the water in rivulets from her scales so she did not spill so much as a drop for her bathman (and Father's batman) Jorge to have to clean up.

    It was a chore to only be able to soak so little at a time but still Jewel refused to have a larger bathtub made of wood.

    For one though her growth had slowed it was far from anything close to finished.

    For two wood that did not buckle if she pressed overly hard on it did not come cheaply.

    And furthermore the sheer cost in firewood to bring it to boil felt wasteful even with just the portion she did use.

    Jewel had taken to only having a bath when it was assured there was use for the hot water that would also serve others instead of partaking every evening as she once did.

    The existence of that demand was in fact quite common it turned out! Especially after Jewel had opened the opportunity up to the village. Mother and Father had been somewhat scandalized by the offer of hot baths or washing water to the commoners.

    But today was Jewel's hatching day. So she'd have indulged herself as a special treat even without the assurance that others could benefit.

    She missed being able to totally submerge and rest until the water lost all vitality to breath (simply submerging her face and neck was not enough).

    But sliding her coils through her tub of lavender oiled water and rinsing her mane with her favorite copper pail was still a very soothing exercise.

    Jewel's tail sang in relief as she finally got her hips free and dry, most of her free of the tub now as she coiled the third of her length that was tail in the steaming water.
    It was a good day and a good winter so far.

    No one but three of the eldest and two just born infants had perished in Rochford village.

    No one had wanted for firewood or warmth this year.

    There had not been any wars or calls to arms for Jewel from the Countess or the King since the unpleasantness of Jewel's tenth year.

    And her Brother was finally deemed ready to be among those presented to a Gryphon clutch come Harrow Season!

    Jewel deftly swept her tail free of the bath before finally turning around on herself to start submerging her face, neck, forelegs and up to just before her wing shoulders in hot lavender water.
    Alexander, as had become tradition, chose the activity for the morning on Jewel's hatching day, and since Mother was feeling a bit ill from her pregnancy they had foregone anything strenuous.

    Well, less strenuous for their Mother.

    Alexander had asked for a proper duel with his Sister and Jewel being the dotting younger sibling (if certainly not smaller, only father dared jest as such now) obliged him.

    It had been a playful bout and not at all a challenge for Jewel, She could arrange her coils to put all of the Rochford courtyard in reach of at least a wing, claw, tail or jaws.

    But for the sport of it Jewel kept to the old melee rules that kept her grounded and did not entirely overwhelm her brother.

    She didn't coddle him of course.

    Alexander was to be a martial lord and a Gryphon Rider. Just as Jewel was a martial lady and the so ranked Shining Wyrm of Viznove.

    Jewel spat harmless flares of wyrmfire at range. She punished every over-extension, she did not let any of her all encompassing senses be lax in a duel with her brother.

    But every death blow was done as a light tap which tumbled and bruised him rather than shattered his bones. And he made a good showing of it against her.
    Landing four blows that properly hurt Jewel and stung even now at the end of the day.

    Which was a better showing then most knights against her.

    Even Father generally only landed a dozen of such. Even with live steel.

    That had been another boon of the last year.
    Father had finally conceded that Jewel could practice against opponents using more than training blades after she had shown that even an arrow directly to her eye did not successfully puncture when she was braced and reinforced.

    It had stung horribly and left a blurry mark in her vision for months. But Jewel had recovered.

    If Jewel was being honest, if the choice was to have a bout against a trained Knight with a sharpened sword or one wielding a warhammer, Jewel would take the sword every time.

    Warhammers stung terribly and they bruised deeply into the muscle despite her so called 'impervious' scales.

    After Alexander's utter thrashing of a bout (which he took with good spirits and enthusiastic discussion on how he could improve from Jewel and Father) they had settled into a quiet afternoon meal where Jewel worked on her efforts to learn weaving. Mother had to mostly supervise as she was still feeling a bit poorly and easily tired, but Jewel appreciated the time to talk all the same.

    Last of all was the quiet evening meal and a discussion on the Stewardship of Jewel's Demesne and what plans she had for it.

    The warmth of the water sang as it ran along inside her throat, up her neck and settled into her lungs full and hot nestled mostly over the lip of the tub and just past it on the floor.

    The level of the water dropping enough it let a bit of a chill catch on her scales.

    Only to rise again as she clenched her chest and expelled the water from her lungs and then flexed her neck to further squeeze it free of her throat.

    Jewel's official demesne was neighbors with Rochford and Father's only other vassal Sir Kraok. Situated in the hamlet between Rochford proper and Kraok's Dewgrove.

    She would eventually be the proper liege of the knight when she came of age.

    The little village of Valasect and its growing foundation of a manor house was set further along the mountain ridge that surrounded Rochford on the east. The village was settled in a place where the foothills of the mountains gentled enough that shepherds could march their flocks up into the high pastures for grazing each year.

    The distance was hardly an inconvenience to fly for Jewel, even in winter. She was easily there and back in a quarter of a day even in a winter storm. Which let Jewel administer and practice her stewardship with Valasect while still being able to remain in her family home.

    She drew her shoulders, neck and head free of the bath just as she had every other part of her. Making sure that the water was willed by the extension of her wyrmflame in the air and the rivulets of bathwater and scented lavender.

    Making sure every drop was conserved so that others could benefit from it.

    A last touch of the slightest, most delicate brush of wyrmflame through it before her head broke its surface.

    Slowly running rivulets of raw wyrmflame over her tongue and past her lips.

    Just a bit.

    Not too little that it was smothered against her nose and barely heated anything.

    Not too much that-

    The entire tub burst over with a splashing bubble of deep purple flame.

    Jewel withdrew her face from the tub, making sure to peel the water free to at least leave her dry.

    All the care to avoid making a mess and now the floor was soaking wet!

    Jewel would have to apologize to Jorge.
     
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    • Nighzmarquls said:
    And furthermore the sheer cost in firewood to bring it to boil felt wasteful even with just the portion she did use.
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    I wonder if there is any way to heat water using wizardry, or create hot springs. Or if there is enough scientific knowledge to for example heat water using wind energy.

    By the way, I wonder how in ancient and medieval times public baths (thermae) were heated...
     
    ShadeHawk said:
    I wonder if there is any way to heat water using wizardry, or create hot springs. Or if there is enough scientific knowledge to for example heat water using wind energy.

    By the way, I wonder how in ancient and medieval times public baths (thermae) were heated...
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    Great big ovens with the pipes going through them. I got to visit pompeii and one of the spots in their Thermae was a I think a kind of oven but just for where the water flowed through.

    Edit: Also the short answer in most of these cases on how they did anything like this is slaves. Lots of Slaves.
     
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    Nighzmarquls said:
    Great big ovens with the pipes going through them. I got to visit Pompeii and one of the spots in their Thermae was a I think a kind of oven but just for where the water flowed through.

    Edit: Also the short answer in most of these cases on how they did anything like this is slaves. Lots of Slaves.
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    I don't think the answer "lots of slaves" was the case for public baths in early medieval Europe (before, if I remember it correctly, and if it is in fact correct, some pandemic with spread aided by close contacts in baths led to hard turn to abandon them, for 'morality' reasons in late medieval period).

    It might be the case that it is easier to keep large building warm, with good insulation, and large thermal mass.
     
    ShadeHawk said:
    I don't think the answer "lots of slaves" was the case for public baths in early medieval Europe (before, if I remember it correctly, and if it is in fact correct, some pandemic with spread aided by close contacts in baths led to hard turn to abandon them, for 'morality' reasons in late medieval period).

    It might be the case that it is easier to keep large building warm, with good insulation, and large thermal mass.
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    Oh sorry I was refering to how the romans did it. Later people found other ways to manage it, but in most of europe the roman baths often fell into disrepair for numerous reasons, but some of which was due to lack of maintenance/labor applied to maintaining it.

    The few cases that the thermae continued to function were exceptions to the rule and often they did so by finding alternative solutions.

    Sometimes simply through applying serfs instead of slaves, other times finding ways to actually pay staff to maintain them. But over all for a long time these facilities would represent substantial investments of labor and resources. Hot water being ubiquitous and near universally instantly available is one of the more amazing parts of modern society.
     
    1.2
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    • 1.2


    Jewel ate her breakfast porridge.

    Last year she'd finally had to ask for a whole pot to be made for just herself.

    The normal serving bowl was simply no longer a satisfying meal to start the day with.

    Mother had been feeling better since winter. Tsulogothulan had provided a bitter smelling tea that they swore was healthful for women with child.

    Jewel had declined the bog wizard's offer of a taste. But it seemed to help Mother with the dawn sickness that had been afflicting her.

    Seeing mother's belly grow and tasting the way her scent changed was somehow different from when Jewel passed the villagers or beasts so burdened with children.

    In specific it was much the same as any other woman or animal getting heavy with a child this time of year.

    Especially those that had newly wed in Grain Turn the year before.

    But seeing it in her own Mother's body?

    Tasting new life quicken and grow in the woman that raised her?

    It was different, somehow.

    "How goes the construction of your manor house in Valasect, my daughter?"

    Jewel did not startle out of her musing over the state of her mother's pregnancy. She'd been taught better than that, but despite her gaze being smooth, her smile cordial and her tone utterly undistracted the wyrm could feel she'd been caught staring anyway.

    "It is going very well indeed Mother, the headman-er adul- uh ado?"

    Father admonished her, sliding into a lecturing tone.

    "Headman Adorján, it's important for you to learn the names of your people Jewel. Especially the headmen."

    Jewel huffed.

    "I had just finished learning Borthin's name before he perished."
    It was so unfair to have her first headmen die two years after she was starting to actually manage her own demesne.

    "Jewel this is important, he is your voice in matters of common law and through him the village are your hands for the labors you require."

    The wyrm sighed and only just restrained her wings from flaring, although she knew her parents could see the muscles twitching in the shoulders and read the ruffling of her wing fingers and the membrane between them for what it was.

    The way that even as she dipped her head in acceptance, her neck was tense and curling tighter than need be.

    That her shame was so easy for them to read made it worse.

    Jewel continued.

    "You're right father, Adorján reports fine progress. He is managing it all quite well and the extra laborers from Rochford and Dewgrove have been helping since spring broke. He says that the foundations and well will be finished come winter and that we should have the main house done next year, stars and seasons willing."

    Jewel paused in consideration of that, this was going to be her home. She would be expected to move there once it was fully laid out. With some staff from Rochford itself, yes, but she would be living on her own.

    And then barely a year after her husband would be joining her.

    Speaking of Rochford.

    "Father? Mother? You're sure that the peasants of Rochford Village and Dewgrove can afford to spare the labor in the midst of Harrow Season?"

    Mother nodded amiably to that. Jewel noted her hands settling on the round swell of her belly before forcing her attention up to her mother's face. Which was smiling with a very knowing glint in her eyes.

    "With you doing the spinning of a hundred women in as much time there is plenty of labor to spare. It costs us in cloth we otherwise would not have even had by this time. And it is the much vaunted wyrmspun cloth at that."

    Jewel's wings wanted to flare in embarrassment there, it turned out that the thread she spun was enchanted somewhat.

    Not terribly much, it was harder to cut, dirt and filth clung poorly to it and it took up dye and sun bleaching a bit better.

    But such was enough to make Proper Wyrmspun Rochford Wool Cloth go for a few more coins than normal to the peddlers.

    Jewel had no idea why some acts of hers would end up as the enchanting workings of sorcery while others did not, she feared that one day they would find something happened to her bathwater and the peddlers would start buying it.

    At least Tsulogothulan found it interesting, although the Weird had little input on why some of Jewel's acts altered the world more than others.
    Mother released a wistful breath.

    "Ah I'm going to miss having you on hand in the demesne when you're finally settled in, daughter."

    Jewel did bristle visibly at that. Assurance already past her lips.

    "I can always come visit for spinning circles! It takes only a few hours to fly here from Valasect!"

    Which got a chuckle from both her parents and a huff'd grunt of boredom from Alexander. He never did settle well for the more domestic aspects of Stewardship.

    Father put on a firm face but his eyes were shining with jest.

    "You will have your own people and concerns to see to in Valasect daughter, best to only make a visit every three or four days."

    Jewel nodded to acknowledge her father but decided to rescue her brother from further discussions of women's work.

    "Brother, are you excited for your presenting to the gryphon clutch? You've not slacked in your bow craft or exercises have you?"

    Alexander nodded hard, now almost as tall as father, although still lanky and youthful where his exercise and work had yet to put on muscle. Eyes going bright with interest and his voice rushing from his lips with such vigor that he spread some porridge onto the table from his lips.

    "I'm running up to the foothills and then up the mountain trail every other day with a full pack of lodestone! And I've not missed a mark with a longbow more than twice in ten this season!"

    Father shared a glance with Jewel too fast for Alexander to spot but easily notable for her.

    A few hand gestures in that aborted secret cant used by the more experienced Gryphon riders spoke silently in circumspect flexing in his hands and shoulders.

    A whelp soaring open but high.

    Jewel gave a nod for Alexander and her father. Her brother was enthusiastic and ambitious but that brought risk. This would be the first clutch he could be presented at and not every prospective was even given the chance before the eggs hatched. Father had been fortunate to have a clutch available when he was twelve.

    Alexander was already fifteen, a few years older than that ideal time.

    He'd have to prove he had the mettle for a Gryphon rider even harder to the rest of the fraternity.

    Father still holding his position of first amongst them or not.

    "Speaking of the presenting, We will be making for the Eyrie in four days' time. Have you settled all that is needed of you in Valasect my daughter?"

    Jewel nodded.

    "The village has managed well under only their headmen and common law and there has been no concerns in the harvest for years before you granted it to me Father. Really besides overseeing the setting up of the manor house at proper proportions for me there is hardly anything that needs my stewardship."

    Father frowned a bit at that.

    "I expect you to take on your responsibility as a lady of your demesne seriously Jewel. That it was well tended before you does not mean you can be lax in this. You are certain all will be well in your absence?"

    Jewel firmed up her wings and held her head higher. Not yet higher than Father, as she was not his countess (yet).

    But more proper her station as a landed Lady with a manor in her care.

    "Yes Father, a-Adorján is skilled, trusted and well liked among the people of Valasect. He was a mason before he became head man and his sons are the ones laying in the foundation and guiding the quarrying of the well. I trust my headman's wisdom in this."

    Father held the stern look for a moment longer before it broke into a delighted grin and a laugh.

    "Good! Then we just need to make sure everything is prepared for our journey to the Eyrie."

    Jewel nodded to that, looking forward to seeing Count Fiebron again.

    Still she snuck a few glances to Mother's belly while they finished up breakfast.

    Her future sibling was not due till well after they would be back. Well in the midst of this year's Hungry summer.

    Much as Alexander and the other villagers' births often were.

    Yet still Jewel felt a trembling worry pass across her scales.

    For her Mother and future sibling both.

    Cross Posting This on Royal Road:
    Shining Wyrm
     
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    • 1.3


    The Eyrie of the Ridgetail Mountains was in cliffs overseeing highland pastures. No book Jewel had ever seen or heard of was written of it or any of the lore shared between Gryphon riders.

    There were other Eyries, far north of even Árva, where the Ridgetails rose into the proper heights of the northern spine peaks and the pinnacle which supported the skyvault.

    There were also Eyries said to be across overways to the west in the Realm proper and presumably south among the Magarska from whence their own Gryphon riders must be hatched, though Jewel heard little said of them from Father and the books were as absent as they had been for the Ridgetail Eyrie.

    It was a long walk of three days east to get into the foothill lands of Grortovo where the Eyrie was found.

    Father had shown her from the air in an evening flight where riders welcomed into the fraternity could land and be met yesterday.

    But for the supply caravans and prospective youths wishing to be presented to a clutch, the winding trail up the mountain was the only road.

    And it was along this road that they walked with their entourage.

    Tsulogothulan swayed along as bonelessly as an eel (which was a kind of swampy fish serpent Jewel had learned of) and left a trail of damp earth and green speckles of duckweed.

    The Bog Weird moved with far less human proportions than when Jewel had first met them. The head was still a pale fleshed crescent of blank skin which occasionally sported a single violet eye as big as Father's fist. But lately there had been a lot more fluidity with everything else.

    Also accompanying them was Jewel's Squire, Smithson, armored in leathers more befitting a knight then a stableboy. He stood so proud in them if still a little stiff.

    Muriel was also in attendance, once Jewel and Alexander's governess and now Jewel's choice candidate as captain for her nascent footmen. Her hair had gone far more silver then it had been even a few years ago.

    But the woman wore riding leathers and armor like she was born to it.

    And then the rest of the luggage train of five Hackney mares with other candidates for Jewel's staff.

    The morning had been quiet, fitting for the ceremony of the day. Alexander's trials for joining the brotherhood of Gryphon riders would begin as soon as they reached the foot of the mountain.

    At last they reached the place and Father called a halt with a raised fist.

    Jewel, Father and the luggage train would now part with Alexander here at the 'start' of the mountain path. (It was technically not, they had been marching in the foothills of the Ridgetails for a full day already).

    Father stood for a moment in proper Gryphon leathers already tied onto Zephyrvam. They would be flying today and he'd gotten prepared in the morning rather than waiting until evening.

    Jewel stood loaded down with her own luggage in panniers attached to her flying harness.

    They watched as the youth that was Alexander looked up at the rough stone, shrub and sparse forest ahead of them.

    There was a fork of sorts in the trail.

    Really more of a tributary sparser brush that was slightly off from the main road.

    To the left was a wide and gradual incline wide and cleared as was suited for horses and carts.

    To the right was a rocky forest openness, more a tumble of rough stones rising sharply up into the mountains towards the cliffs than a proper path.

    A prospective rider had to reach the Eyrie by the harder way.

    It was unmarked and un-notable except for its presence and clarity; no overgrowth blocked the trail, but no markers denoted it either.

    Father squeezed his legs in subtle signal to his Gryphon.

    Zephyrvam made the call.

    And Alexander stepped up to the rough stones.

    A long cry of announcement filled the valley, booming and sharp. The howl answered from the peaks and the sky around them with other cries of welcome and challenge, dozens of Gryphon voices acknowledging Zephyrvam and the prospective Alexander.

    The sound buffeted and echoed off the ridgetail and the highlands. Still empty of the herds of sheep that would be coming up later in the year after their numbers swelled with new lambs.

    Father nodded hard to his son and heir.

    Who, having paused as the cries echoed, now braced himself with a shake and began the long trudge up the mountain to the eyrie. A full pack was all the supply he would be offered for what was likely to be a few days trek on rough terrain.

    Jewel and Father for their part waited at the fork for their caravan to finish departing up the left path. Watching Alexander climb with sure and practiced steps, hopping up the stones like a goat despite the burden of his pack.

    She could still smell the salt of tears and a little fear that had been settling off her brother.

    Once he was beyond Father's sight around a bend (but just emerging into Jewel's vision again if she craned her neck high enough) they both took flight.

    Zephyrvam's stormy wake shook the leaves of the fresh foliage and Jewel's almost silent ascent barely made a breeze through the air in the pair's initial grasps for altitude.

    But soon the sun baked highlands and their rising winds caught both sets of wings, Gryphon and Wyrm alike, and they soared into the sky.

    All around them riders and gryphons were happy to greet them in waving arms and tilted wings sweeping in circles around the same mountain side.

    Jewel for her part responded along with her father and many of their fellow fliers circled with them to watch the trails together.

    Other riders were joyfully waving and pointing out the progress of sons, nephews, wards and friend's children along the various winding and intentionally arduous routes up the mountain to the eyrie.

    Jewel did not see cloudspear yet among them but a few familiar sets of plumage from her first campaign greeted her with friendly sweeps and a few offered japes and acrobatic diversions.

    The prospective youths might technically be alone in their journey, to prove their strength, valor, determination and if opportunity arose brotherly bonds with their fellow aspirants.

    But they were all of them under the watch of what Jewel could now see were well over three dozen sets of sharp eyes.

    Gryphons and riders together.

    Father and Zephyrvam made a cant towards Jewel that took a moment for her to parse but eventually she realized it was a clever way to bring up that their meal tonight was likely to be freshly caught mountain goat.

    Jewel offered a waving tilt of a wing to acknowledge and express her interest.

    She'd never had mountain goat before.

    It made sense though, the beasts were obviously scattered all over the hillsides and cliffs around the Eyrie now that she was in the air. They must be some form of lairspawn descendents if the way they could cling to sheer rock walls was anything to go by.

    Surely that was some act of natural sorcery.

    She suspected they would probably be quite delicious.

    Jewel turned her attention back down to her brother, he was making a solid effort to travel up the tumbled over rocks of his path. Burdened by a heavy pack, and likely would be alone to set his own fire and prepare his own supper while Jewel and his father enjoyed a warm meal in the Eyrie.

    But he was not alone really.

    Alexander might struggle here.

    But he would be as safe as possible under the watchful eyes of the gryphons.
     
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    The Eyrie was a welcoming and comfortable sort of place for Jewel. Carved rooms into the stones of the mountain which sang of feathers and gryphons and eggs.

    The greatest of the chambers was a high vaulted space that Jewel could not reach the ceiling of even while rearing back onto her hind claws.

    Riders and their steeds could be found everywhere in the Eyrie and the halls and doorways had been made to suit them, but of the Gryphons there were almost always wide gaps afforded unless it was the close knit preening and nuzzling reunions of children with parents or the stoic affection afforded between the mated pairs.

    For siblings and strangers there was not a single Gryphon who did more than tolerate one another in close quarters.

    Jewel was enamored with having every door, hall and room made for riders, affording enough space for a Gryphon and as a result plenty of space for her own over-large self.

    And what furnishings there were had either been carved into the stone or made of incredibly sturdy oak that bore many layers of scars from claws and curious beaks.

    In fact, Jewel was pretty sure she had tasted the scent of this sort of wood before from her own old dining bowl (which she still used but mostly for snacks rather than the main dish of her meals).

    All around the Eyrie was a delight as accommodations for Gryphons readily served for young lady Wyrms.

    In fact, the only thing really lacking was a place for a hot bath.

    The gryphons apparently preferred a combination of preening, rolling in dust and stones, or taking dips in the cold lakes that collected on the far side from the Eyrie landing cliff.

    However it was good that the accommodations were so accommodating because apparently gryphon eggs, while nowhere near as unpredictable as wyrmish ones, did not seem to precisely hold their schedules to the day.

    Alexander and the other prospectives had made it up the cliffs and were being settled into a routine of training and martial evaluation with bow and trips even further up the mountain under heavy load while they waited.

    But wait they did.

    For close on to eight days.

    They were nearly into the end of harrow season, by Jewel's count.

    She had come to spend much of it sitting in the nest chamber for the expecting formel and drake, Honeydown and Bloodbeak. The eggs were never left alone by either of them.

    She had sought some distraction socializing amongst the riders but here were only so many drills and acrobatic maneuvers to be praised for.

    Jewel still could not extend her wyrmflame as far as a Gryphon's wake did but still with how light she could become while buoyed by the flame coursing through her flesh and bones, she had finally begun to make up for her lack of speed.

    Now, however, she was settling in to watch (at respectful distance) the two parents as they fussed over their eggs, sometimes turning them over with foreclaw or beak between taking up their roosting duties.

    The prospective parents were overburdened with offerings of food from all the gryphon riders for the duration.

    Feeding both drake and formel nearly to the point of bursting and if not for the cliffs Jewel was pretty sure even the great wakes of a gryphon would have been unable to take them aloft.

    Honeydown was especially plump, although Jewel thought most of that was her prodigious pale crimson and yellow plumage which when not in flight hid almost every detail of the predatory formel's shape.

    She was an unbonded gryphon, the hatchling of one of the northern riders. Kept tame and accommodating by easy feed. Quite friendly to any and all even while she brooded.

    But like all of her kind who had not been taken up at hatching, Honeydown was unchallengeable in her pride.

    Her mate and sire of the eggs was grey and black feathered and reminded Jewel of an owl more than any other bird.

    He had once been bonded to a rider, but the knight had perished of illness between campaigns and now no other would be accepted to force their weight upon him.

    They were both first time parents according to Fiebron.

    Jewel believed it, for how much they fussed with care over even the slightest branch or bit of bedding amiss in their brooding nest. She'd seen similar nervous fussing in newly weds and even the youngest hens.

    As she watched them between her only obligations of lunch and supper, Jewel considered and pondered. She thought of her mother back in Rochford.

    The eggs were reported to be seven in number, Something Jewel had eventually verified with her own eyes.

    Which took a while as neither parent left more than the briefest moment of the eggs open to observation.

    This afternoon Honeydown broke all pattern set for the last four days with a sharp warbling cry. The formel's eyes wide as she flapped and stepped uncertainly back from her nest, wings flared and neck arched.

    The expression of shock poignantly clear to Jewel. A mirror of her own instinctive flare.

    Those riders that had been passing through the nest chamber ran out in a rush.

    Calling for the lords and the prospective riders to return only once they were well down the hallway.

    The first hatching was at hand and their chance for a new rider to be accepted and bonded had arrived.

    For all the commotion Jewel had eyes only for the first egg in the nest, a light tapping from within, a faint burble.

    A shifting body straining.

    As the men rushed back and forth, Alexander and the other young men and boys were rushed into the room.

    All plans of feasts and activities other than attending the hatching were abandoned.

    Raw strips of the tenderest meats were prepared for each prospective.

    Honeydown was given what meat and comforts she would accept.
    Her drake Bloodbeak was given equal measures when he arrived and fluffed up almost as round as his mate, turning from svelte and dangerous to a round scrambling checkered ball of black and gray plumage in his own consternation.

    Jewel could smell and hear Alexander, dressed in heavy leathers and burdened with a soft slice of liver.

    Stood up third in line with the other boys.

    And then as the egg rattled and cracked, as the beak within tried to pierce the shell they began.

    First among them, some northerner Jewel did not know.

    Dark hair and eyes, slight build.

    Maybe eleven?

    He walked up nervously to the nest with a portion of meat, to try and seek a bonding with the chick yet hatching.

    But his nerves betrayed him.
    His fear that stank so thick that Jewel could have faced him with her eyes covered and her ears full of wax alarmed Honeydown.

    The formel flared her wings and lowered her beak. As round and friendly her plumage might make her, the sudden growling hiss which washed over all in the chamber put a stop to this prospective.

    The boy froze.

    And the expectant mother puffed up her plumage even more, somehow making a nearly completely round orb of yellow and red hints look like fury and death.
    Another rider, likely the boy's sponsor (if not his father), was beside him in a blink, pulling back the prospective rider until the gryphon calmed.

    The terror reek so sharp Jewel thought the boy nearly pissed himself.

    They all waited tense seconds as the cracking of the egg continued, shell flakes had burst out and they could see the beak. They did not have much more time before the opportunity for this hatching was passed.

    The second in line seemed to make up his mind, and where the other had stank of too much fear this one smelled far too little of it.

    He looked confident, yes. He was older then almost any other there.

    But he also was arrogant. Aggressive as he stepped up.

    He also did not watch as carefully as the other and when the plumage of Honeydown started rising in agitation, he simply kept approaching the nest.

    Instead of giving a hissing warning this time the Formel lunged fast as a cat, beak sharper than a spear. The boy had only a moment to realize his mistake before he was thrown back by the Gryphon pecking him full in the chest.

    A wet gurgling wheeze and the scratch of his leathers scraping to a stop along the stone of the chamber. Jewel spared the slightest glance to verify that at worst he probably only had a cracked rib.
    Which considering he had just been struck by a Gryphon mother defending her nest was an incredibly soft rebuke.

    He likely would live although he might never take breath the same for the rest of his life.

    There was another tense lull after that.

    Offerings of meat to the tame but still fiercely protective Gryphons were done. All tension in the riders was absent when they approached. All practiced gentle posture and soothing voices.

    Softening the fear of Drake and Formel alike. But a few soft whispers in the room were saying they would only have another attempt after this at most before the egg had to be left to their parents.

    Some insisted too many attempts had already been made to risk the gryphon's trust further.

    The arrogant boy was taken from the chamber as the last prospective had.

    Now it was Alexander, who stood watching, brave and foolish as ever.

    But also cautious and careful.

    He watched the still agitated mother, who was mostly fusing over the slowly emerging chick. Its beak had mostly broken free, a pale white nearly the same as its eggshell.

    Parting open as it drank in the air.

    Soft gurgling and the first mewling warbles.

    A new life emerging into the world.

    Jewel's attention was torn between catching glimpses of the egg and her brother slowly approaching.
    Not at all predatory, but simply softly, unassuming.

    Gentle and with a face of concern.
    His gaze instead of fixed to the egg were on the Formel Honeydown herself.

    The other attendants finally noticed him but trapped far too close to an only tame but not bonded gryphon could not risk any sudden sound or shift in posture to admonish Alexander.

    They barely even glared at him, but he reached out to the mother and whispered softly, he spoke gently and much as Jewel did and she felt a new tension suddenly build in her wyrmflame.

    If that gryphon started to prepare to strike her brother-

    But there was no sense of malice, only confusion and the same undercurrent of worry to Honeydown.

    She rumbled and boomed at Alexander.

    But he merely waited and let her relax before approaching.
    When she did not give a sign of forbiddance he reached out.

    He stroked her plumage as he often did Jewel when no one else was watching.

    He spoke gently as he did to Zephyrvam.

    He was tense, he was careful.

    His eyes were watchful and he always paused before actually touching her.

    But he did it.

    And as the egg rattled and cracked again the other riders moved further back, for fear of claiming the bond undue them.

    Wasting half a gryphon's life in service to an adult that would perish before them was a shame that none wanted in the brotherhood.

    Leaving Alexander alone with the two gryphon parents.

    He clucked and soothed Honeydown. Even tore a small piece of the strip of meat he had and after graciously taking a bite, chewing and swallowing himself offered her a small portion.

    The Gryphon though prideful and extremely overfed seemed nervous enough with the egg to accept the curious tiny human's offering.

    That given there were mutters from some of the older riders that Alexander had cheated his turn to sneak close to the egg.

    Others seemed impressed with the audacity of him and that he had done so well.

    But her fool brother, rather than taking the advantage to position himself in the nest, turned after that and walked as he had to Honeydown to her mate.

    Slow, gentle, always letting each parent see and know where he was going, never meeting their eyes but also not turning away from them entirely.
    Not fearful but not arrogant.

    He walked past the nest entirely and to the Drake.

    He offered the same ritual as he had done before, a bite for himself from the same meat and then an offering of a piece that was meant for the newly hatched chick to the father to be.

    With a shake of his feathers and a head tilt that nearly went completely upside down Bloodbeak gently took the offered snack in his red tipped namesake and swallowed it.

    Only then after meeting with both parents did Alexander turn gently and without any guile to his posture to face the nest, glancing slowly and smoothly from one gryphon to the other before taking a single tentative step.

    It was slow and gentle.

    Honeydown still gurgled in concern.

    So Alexander stopped.

    The egg was cracking, the voice of the nearly free gryphon was almost done.

    The time for Alexander to earn the trust of its parents and their blessing to take and care for it was rapidly dwindling away.

    But still he stood and waited until the feathers in Honeydown settled, until the more subtle tension of Bloodbeak eased.

    Then he was able to take two steps closer to the nest and the hatching egg before there was protest.

    Jewel could feel her wyrmflame coursing so harshly through her body it took a moment for her to remember that she should breathe to avoid starving her flesh of vitality.

    Five steps.

    Ten.

    And then he was there among the eggs, slowly lowering near the hatching one.

    But only just.

    The crack of an egg shell startled everyone in the chamber, Jewel, Honeydown, Bloodbeak, Jewel and all the riders.

    Everyone jumped but Alexander.

    He simply sat there in a squat with his portion of meat beside the nest, giving cautious, slow sweeps of his head up to either side to watch each gryphon's posture.

    And the chick, now most of the way out of the egg, wrinkled horrifically and pink with flesh far too loose and sickly looking was tilting precariously in its mostly broken egg.

    Eyes still closed, voice peeling through the air in demand of food.

    Alexander extended his arm to the chick and its open mouth.

    He watched Honeydown tense but where before he had always stilled now he merely slowed.

    The meat was hanging from his heavily armored hand.

    The same meat he had eaten.

    The same meat Honeydown and Bloodbeak had also tasted.

    He held it over the wide open mouth of the still blind chick.

    Waiting, the noise from the wrinkly thing's throat scraped at the inside of Jewel's skull with its demand for food.

    The grating was putting everyone, including the gryphons, on edge.

    It seemed to hold forever.

    And then with an exhausted warble the formel slumped down from her over tense posture into a sprawled heap in front of the nest.

    Alexander nodded to her and dropped the thin meat into the waiting beak.

    Who upon even feeling it hit their tongue was swallowing it down fast as could be.

    He was already taking up the soft woolen blanket that each prospective student had been given.

    Slowly scooping up the Gryphon chick into a single armed carry.

    Hardly bigger than a hen right now.

    He stepped back slowly with the parents watching him intently, returning to the rest of the riders.

    Holding his charge in the crook of his arm.

    But he had fed their chick, and silenced the first hunger cry.

    He had earned their trust and acceptance.

    Alexander had done it.

    He had proven he would be a gryphon rider.

    But Jewel could somehow not quite find it in herself to feel proud of him.

    She had only eyes for the confused befuddlement and exhaustion that was present in every feather of Honeydown and even Bloodbeak.

    Something was there that made Jewel's insides clench in dismay.
     
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    Jewel was going to miss her brother, but she was so proud of him for having earned his bond to a gryphon.

    That he would be able to follow father in being a Gryphon lord.

    That in the years to come she would be able to share with him the joys of flight.

    But today they would have to part.

    Of the seven eggs laid by Honeydown, only five were bonded to aspirant riders (Alexander included).

    For the next four days after his acceptance, there were no more exercises for the potential riders. They stayed in the eyrie in anticipation of the hatchings. Two happened in the middle of the night and barely a third of the young men got in position before offerings had to be made.

    After the incident with the second in line (who lived but had taken a breaking blow to the ribs), only one other among the older prospects was seriously maimed. But, beyond the wound in his arm, he brought further shame as all attempts to bond that egg had to be abandoned so as to avoid further angering Honeydown.

    That was the first to be left to the parents to tend, and grow into a tame if unrideable gryphon.

    The second was the last egg of the clutch, when Honeydown simply refused to step back from her nest and growled at all comers, whether they were the trusted attendants or prospective riders to be.

    Having already been agitated before and only gentled by prodigious offerings of fresh meat and gentle grooming of her feathers, it was deemed that no further eggs could be claimed from her clutch and that the choosing had concluded.

    Father had embraced Alexander openly after that, gently holding him to as not disturb the young chick that was hanging in a hammock of cloth over the boy's chest.

    A bag of soft jerky at her brother's hip.

    And then they had shared many soft words on the proper care and concerns to look out for with a Gryphon chick.

    As descendants of lairspawn they were hearty beasts, but as infants there were still dangers of illness and injury.

    To Jewel's ear a lot of the advice was to trust in the staff and the caretakers and heed their advice. And which ones were to be accepted beyond reproach when Father could not be in the eyrie himself to offer mentorship.

    Then there had been a great feast, full of fine roasted goat but subdued and quiet, as the guests of honor all had easily disturbed chicks to attend too. And already many had haggard and sunken eye looks from needing to attend to feeding and care of their charges at all hours.

    She hated to leave her brother to this endeavor among strangers but their time was up.

    Jewel and Father were to depart, returning to Rochford by wing, with their caravan to travel after them.

    She bowed to her brother in farewell. It was uncertain when next they might meet. It could be more than a year.

    They both had responsibilities and duties to consume their days ahead.

    Father had to attend to his demesne and court in Kaeketteh with some regularity. Jewel herself was required to attend as well most years.

    Alexander would be raising a new Gryphon and ensuring the strong bond that would see him as both rider and later a Gryphon Lord upon his inheritance.

    There did not seem to be any words to fill the space.

    The best Jewel could manage was a stilted and formal.

    "Take care brother, until we meet again."

    To which he bowed back to her slowly. Careful to avoid waking the sleeping Gryphon chick in his sling hammock of cloth.

    His left hand hovered over the feed bag even now, fingers grasping reflexively.
    He smelled exhausted and elated at the same time.

    Tired from too little sleep and charged with a determination and vigor Jewel had only seen glimpses of before.

    Her brother was growing to be a good man, like their father.

    "Take care sister, soon you will have to show me what the sky is like on the wing."

    He tried to give her the flight cant of safe departure but he mangled the angle a bit and instead declared there were enemies in retreat.

    Jewel laughed and corrected him with the proper motion of arms.

    Her wings did a bit of the same motion as normally would be made by a rider's gryphon. And she noted with pride that Alexander's tired eyes widened in realization at his mistake and quickly gave the correct signal.

    Father, for his part, offered his hand in a knightly greeting.

    Main hand open, forward and bereft of weapon, off hand out to the side and equally unarmed.

    Alexander swallowed some kind of utterance, whether laugh or other Jewel was unsure.

    He grasped his father's armored forearm with his hand and the two squeezed one another. Father's off hand patted Alexander's shoulder while her brother hesitantly mirrored it.

    Then it was time to go.

    Jewel turned away towards the cliff where Zephyrvam waited for Father to mount up and be tied down by the Eyrie attendants.

    "I think he will do well here, Father. He cares for his bond. And he earned the respect of the formel and drake for all to see."

    Father could not nod in his full flight armor but his waist bent in an almost bow to approximate.

    A gesture of arms reinforcing the affirmation in flight cant.

    "He will do well, though being so acknowledged is going to haunt him with some jealousy. I argued he should have been in the second or third choosing from the clutch. The first is always the hardest to earn with a new mother."

    Jewel thought of the expression in the wings and neck of Honeydown when Alexander claimed his future steed. She could see why, but had nothing to say.

    Father continued.

    "But I was overruled, they implied that if Alexander was so poorly prepared with the first among gryphon riders as a father then maybe neither of us were of honor. It was a jealous and stupid tactic. But the choosings always have tempers high."

    Jewel blinked at that, tilting her head to the side. She had grown used to hearing the whispers of those that thought she could not hear.

    But there had been none of that apparent among the Gryphon Riders of the Eyrie.

    Then again, gryphon riders in general were far better at controlling themselves at all times then most other nobles. Their steeds were observant and considerate beasts after all.

    "Truly? They are so wroth at such an auspicious time? It seems very petty."
    Father sighed as he swung over onto Zephyrvam's neck and shoulders.

    The attendants coming forward to work the straps into their matching buckles on the Gryphon's own harness.

    Others pulled the legs, arms and waist of the flight armor to proper readiness.

    Squeezing father in until his armor creaked with every movement.

    "Many lords and riders failed to see their sons or wards being accepted by this clutch. And it's not certain all of them will have another chance before they are too old to avoid dishonor."

    Jewel hummed at that, considering what it would have meant for Alexander and Father if he had not been accepted.

    Her brother would have been wracked with shame over the prospect.
    Father, for all his goodness, would have suffered questions of his fitness as First among Gryphon riders. That his own son could not meet the standards of acceptance despite the circumstances being unfavorable.

    Jewel sighed and shook out her wings then waited patiently as Smithson secured her panniers and made sure they were loaded and balanced to best avoid burdening her in the flight home.

    It would be hardly a day and a quarter night of fine gliding home to Rochford. But both Father and Jewel had matters and responsibilities to see too that had been left in their time in the Eyrie.

    Jewel felt her scales tremble down her sides.

    The fact that even among the Brotherhood of Gryphons there was politics put an odd quiver in her guts.

    Finally prepared, the cliff was cleared of attendants (and Smithson). As one Jewel and Zephyrvam leapt into open sky for the flight home.
     
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    First summer came and went. Jewel's demesne briefly paused work on the foundations so that the hands would be free for hay turn.

    Then the peasants returned in force and numbers in excess of those needed just to get the extra pay in grain from Rochford's stores.

    The final carving of foundation stones of the main manor and the clearing down to bedrock to place them was finished well ahead of the original estimate. Most of the work for her manor after that was checking to see how the marked out places for walls, doorways and rooms felt when Jewel moved through them.

    Adjustments, expansions and extensions to ease a few particularly awkward bends and too narrow or too abrupt passageways had bought another fortnight of labor, but after that work on the Manor's foundations was done for the year and Jewel was left with little expected of her.

    So she had taken to simply doing what she knew and visiting headman Adorján and asking how her people were faring through the hungry summer and what labors there were to have during it now that the manor was settled until next year.

    "Excuse me, but what do you mean 'is there anything you can help with' Lady Jewel?"

    Jewel did not acknowledge how her headman still had that frustrating hitch when addressing her. The subtle cue that he yet struggled to properly see her as his lady and more importantly a person.

    She knew from experience that most would eventually either master their tells, or actually grow to accept her station.

    But it was frustrating how slow going that could be.

    Jewel shifted a bit around in her coils, her latest bit of growth had been coming in unevenly around her middle between her chest and hips. And made her scales feel more strained than they ever had before.

    Which was not helping with her mood.

    "Over the winter in Rochford, I have helped with seeing that those without dry fuel had lit hearths. That's not been a recent concern in either my father or my demesne of course. But why should winter be the only time I render aid?"

    Jewel had ordered that before construction on her manor even begin its foundation that proper storehouses for firewood be set aside for her demesne far in excess of their or Jewels' (now diminished) bathing requirements.

    That any household in good standing in their labors for the land be provided from that storehouse in the event they came up short in the deep winter.

    She had insisted that if the storehouse was not sufficient or should go empty, any house that struggled by burning green or wet wood would be visited by Jewel personally to see their hearth's warmed over winter.

    Adorján nodded his head. His skin was rough around the face in a way most were not. Pocked in places and his hands shook a bit even when he was completely at ease.

    He bent little in the back even when he bowed in respect.

    "Of course, Lady Jewel. But it's the height of hungry summer, we have no need for extra flame for our hearths. And it would hardly be proper to ask to impose upon the Shining Wyrm of Viznove for anything less vital."

    Jewel sighed and shook her head.

    It was so much easier in Rochford where everyone had known her since she was young and grown up alongside her.

    Here in Valasect she was a stranger and everyone was uneasy with her.

    It made what she thought should have been easy so much harder. But they were hers and she would see they were well cared for.

    That was the compact between a lady and her subjects.

    Even if they made it difficult for her. Still, stewardship was about more than crops.

    She needed to offer the headman something to prove her nobility. There were many tales of cruel lords and ladies whispered in corners where they thought Jewel could not hear.

    "It is up to me to guard my own honor, Adorján. You are the headman of my village, you are my voice and hands in common law, here between us I relieve you of any burden of insult. I withdraw all obligations of propriety. Please, at least in private council with me, feel free to speak openly and without fear."

    Jewel's headman gawked at her.

    He blinked hard a few times, then ran his tongue over his lips, looking all over those of her coils that fit in his house, Jewel's back half was furled up around his front yard gardens.

    Finally he met her eyes for the first time since he assumed the role of headman.

    They were clear eyes, they held strong and he took a shuddering breath before exhaling hard and bracing like a footman squaring up against a knight in full charge.

    "At your command, I'll be honest, my lady. Having you around the village is liable to be thrice the trouble of anything you could possibly be doing to help. You terrify the lot of them"

    Jewel felt herself wilting. She'd asked, but it still made her eyes sting with tears. Her voice was quiet and small. The constriction needed for it practically filled her entire throat.

    "Oh."

    The headman's eyes continued to fix her firmly for a moment longer before he seemed to lose some of the stiffness to his expression. Not his back though, that remained as rigid and indisposed to bend as always.

    Muttering under his breath.

    "Blast it, no noble reared star fortuned dragon should be able to do that better than my granddaughter."

    Jewel without even thinking of it apologized to the words she was not supposed to have heard.

    "I'm sorry about that, headman Adorján. But it's my responsibility as your lady to see to the care and livelihood of the people of Valasect. It is my duty."

    Adorján was staring at her again, his voice whispery and quiet, possibly too quiet for most to hear.

    "You heard that?"
    But in a room shared with her head and ears Jewel could hardly deny anymore it was clear as noon sun.

    "I…"

    Then Jewel paused.

    She had never told a peasant or commoner this, only her parents, Tsulogothulan (with their circle of wizards) and Lady Bathory had the full knowledge of the powers of her hearing. The other nobles likely suspected her ears were very capable, but they did not know the full extent.

    But Adorján was to be her voice in her demesne. He needed to have trust from her, they needed to start somewhere.

    Jewel coughed gently (barely really a cough in truth for her).

    "I can hear the women talking as they spin in the house across from yours. I can hear birds singing in the apple tree between the south and northeast big fields. I can hear your heartbeat, Adorján. I'm sorry for the rudeness but I can't not hear these things."

    The headman's heartbeat was rising to a thunderous pace as she spoke. The expression on his face made Jewel's insides clench uncomfortably (again in her middle).

    He finally mastered himself though, she gave him the time for it.

    Adorján was her voice for common law and she needed his trust. So said all the books on stewardship and the consul of Mother and Father.

    "I recall from the Boar's Spas there are tales spread that you entertain the children and offer them your bread?"

    Jewel nodded along. She'd done that the first time and it had ended up being something that was demanded she repeat every year since.

    The headman considered.

    He chewed at his lip and his pockmarked face roiled over the bone of his brows and the rise of his cheeks in deep concentration.

    Grey hair on head and face wagging about as he thought. Eyes on something in the air below Jewel's throat. Not focused on her but a bit before her scales.

    "And your hearing is good enough you could rightfully keep track of every kinder clear across the northeast field?"

    She nodded along.

    Adorján hummed heavily and with a solid grit to it then finally faced her dead in the eyes again as he spoke.

    "The Boar's festival in Rochford is coming soon. As our lady, could you accompany the children and watch over them on the way there, together with the few men and women making the trip this year? And after that set up in one of the fallow fields to see to the youth with nothing better to do through hungry summer?"

    Jewel mulled over it. That did not sound terribly difficult. And if it was what would help her village, according to her headman Jewel was eager to spend the time regardless of the difficulty.
    "If it will help the people, I'd gladly do it. Would it be alright to bring a few rounds of lunch while I am acting as the Kinder Guard?"

    He seemed surprised at her.

    Jewel quickly amended hoping to avoid giving the wrong impression.

    "Oh! I promise I'll share with the children in my care, it's just I've been quite a bit more peckish than usual this summer."

    To which Adorján finally gave the first honest laugh Jewel had ever heard from him.

    "That would be perfectly fine, Lady Jewel."

    His smile was sparse a few teeth but there was warmth in his eyes and a joy to his pitted rough skinned cheeks.

    Jewel nodded and wished her headman well, extricating herself from his home with great care and delicacy.

    Twisting and clenching her wings especially tight to make sure she did not damage the timbres of the doorframe on her way out.

    It was good to make progress with her Demesne!
     
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    Midway through the hungry summer, just past breakfast, Jewel's mother went into labor.

    Jewel had been struck still and silent for a moment.

    Her mother had turned to Father and spoken in a strained whisper. "It's time".

    The wisewoman, her apprentices and a few serving girls were called into her parent's bedroom. Father and all the guards were promptly evicted to wait where they could not interfere.

    Jewel was nearly sent out as well, but mother had screamed at the top of her lungs "That's my daughter you decrepit crone of a wench!"

    For that, the wisewoman had been quick to instead saddle Jewel with the important duty of guarding the room and only letting girls and women pass into the place of the birth.

    There was a glint to her eye and a grin in her full set of pearly white teeth, glittering behind wizened lips and wrinkled skin.

    It reminded Jewel a bit of the Countess. Which made her scales tremble in apprehension.

    But the gentleness and care she treated mother with whenever Jewel spared a glance inside soothed that.

    After the initial hurry and commotion, things settled into a rhythm.

    Sometimes Jewel's mother was told to sit squatted in the room with cushioning to support her and groaned or screamed in effort.

    Other times she was told to move and shift, to even stand if she was able. Sometimes she would lay back against the cushions.

    As the hours continued, Mother was kept down on the floor squatting, propped up with support from the maidens and the pillows, it seemed undignified but the wise woman had a confident strength in her. And the apprentices were untroubled in their bearing.

    All of them offered support, they touched the laboring mother to check the position of the baby.

    They made sure she had water and broths and teas to drink if she wished

    They massaged her back and belly gently.

    And it passed like that for what felt like ages.

    Sometimes they spoke to Mother, but mostly they simply soothed her or murmured amongst themselves.

    "Head's in a good position."

    "Thank the gods the babe does not take more from the father. Any larger-"

    Then admonishments from the elder silenced talk of that sort.

    Mother screamed. She sometimes had a stick of wood between her teeth to help draw her attention from her trial.

    Other times she howled mouth open.
    Jewel had to interpose herself on the wise woman's command on more than one occasion to block concerned guards.

    Father showed up once to check and Jewel assured him that there was not yet anything that seemed to concern anyone in the bedroom.

    Jewel was given a midday meal that she could just barely manage to eat. Her ears were constantly tilting back to listen.

    Hearing flesh flex, hearing wood creak under teeth, the every minute echo of her mother's anguished, feral voice booming off the confines of the room.
    Calm but tense murmurs among the women attending her.

    "No tears, healthy parting."

    Slick sounds of hands wet and touching something or running over skin.

    It sounded almost like a battle.

    Or a wrestling match.

    Yet slow and gradual.

    But Jewel's furtive glances through the door showed it as anything but.

    Yes, mother visibly struggled. Her body was bare in a way that the wyrm had never seen before, skin and muscles flexing and moving in ways that gave Jewel phantom pangs in her own middle.

    Sweat soaked through the normally well cared for hair and a redness was all through her face with the exertion.

    But there was also the presence of the apprentices, girls and young women all and the careful closeness of the wisewoman. Gripping mother's hand in hers with a tension that spoke of the strength both women were bringing to bear.

    The soothing murmuring soft songs.

    Rising and falling. Breaths follow from all those in the room in a rhythm.

    Jewel could feel a stirring coming in the fire of the world.

    Faux flame.

    A working.

    Her mother howled again, groaned, roared.

    Jewel let the door close. Feeling the need to seal things in, the feel of it in the world, in the unspoken silent words pouring off the women.

    Not full sorcery as wizards did it. But it was still a working and it had a way to it.

    The sense of it reminded her of the nest in the Eyrie. Of Honeydown brooding on her eggs.

    Of the shell of the egg enclosing a growing life.

    The sound of a once lone voice in effort, pain and exhaustion were joined in a rhythmic chant now.

    They rose with hers, they fell with hers.

    And they guided her.

    Mother set the rhythm and yet the rhythm became a song and, as Jewel had heard many a year now, it became the magic of music.

    The working of it swelled in waves, like roiling storm clouds folding over one another.

    Casting in and out like ripples off the walls of the room, surging from and back upon her mother and her labor to bring a life into the world.

    Jewel felt the push and pull of it in her own scales, in her own muscles. She hummed along to the voices of the wise woman when they rose to brace and strengthen mother's own.

    Time seemed to slide away like water, her coils shifted and flexed with the hum and roar.

    Suddenly it was supper and Jewel could barely bring herself to eat so enmeshed into the flow and sound of the room under her guard she was.

    Father checked upon them again and Jewel did not even recall what the words were that she assured him with.
    The pot of her supper was suddenly empty.

    The voices rising and falling like her own heart beat. In her coils, in her body.

    Listening and moving as she heard her mother move.

    As she felt her mother and the room beyond flex and push.

    Pushing life.

    Pushing blood.

    Pushing air.

    Pushing Sound.

    The stones were keen to join the words to offer their wisdom in how to hold strong under all but the sharpest burdens.

    The air eager to fill every lung with freshness and fiery vitality.

    The sun had left the sky but it parted over the horizon with support and hope to see the fruit of these labors in its next rise.

    Jewel could not see them, and yet she felt the sharp intensity now of the stars as they emerged from the smothering light of the day.

    Piercing sharp and distant and forever.

    Their light rattled against the room's borders like ice falling on metal.

    And Jewel did not need to hear the sharp words from the wisewoman to know that no door or window could be allowed to open now.

    The stars were out and they were eager to land upon a child born under them.

    Jewel could feel this and knew it.

    She again could not recall what words passed her lips but the wisewoman returned to the depths of the safe shell they had woven around Mother and the child to be.

    The song continued, the labor dragged on, hours upon hours within the warm extension of her Mother's own flesh that had become of the room.

    Of the walls made more of voice and the deep fierceness of a beast guarding her child than any stone.

    Jewel found herself glaring not at passing men folk.

    They were inconsequential and easily halted.

    No.

    Her gaze turned upward to the unseen sky above.

    The vault that was now unshielded by sunlight.

    Her coils flexed, her muscles pulled.

    Deep within Jewel felt her wyrmflame rising and falling alongside the voice and push of her mother.

    And then at last.

    At an unknown hour in the depths of a short summer's night.

    There was a wane cry and a new voice silenced all the others.

    A new voice had joined the world and relief fell upon the room.

    The stars shined intensely and were rebuked by the working the wise woman and her circle had erected.

    Had shaped with their voices and the birthing roars of a mother.
    And finally at last the sharp prickling of fortunes and who knew what other gods lost interest in the newly born.

    Jewel felt herself coming back into clarity with herself.

    The safeguards of the room had held.

    Shuffling bodies were moving, muscles were lifting, voices exerting.

    Work was being done within and Mother was moved.

    But a content quiet had fallen.

    The voice of one of the girls spoke with an exhausted and wrung out voice. And finally Jewel had the awareness to recognize it.

    "The elder says the birth was good and the mother and child yet breathe healthy and well. Come the morning sun the door may be opened, until then none may breach."

    Jewel could only nod and whisper back.

    "I will guard my mother's room until dawn."

    There was something deep and personal in that oath. Something that felt stronger than any promise or binding of fealty Jewel had ever known.

    It touched on something that even Wizards seemed to barely brush against.

    There was only breathing behind the door, before the woman spoke again.
    "The child is a daughter."

    Jewel smiled, starting to feel the pang of exhaustion.

    Sympathy for her mother's effort through most of the day and night.

    Joy bubbling up for her newly born sister.

    A sister, a truly younger sister!

    Jewel shifted her coils to settle in and was brought up short by an odd impediment against one leg.

    And a sudden sense of stickiness.

    Had someone spilled something on her while she was in that fog?

    Jewel turned to look and boggled.

    Nestled in her coils against her thighs was an egg.

    Oh.

    So that's why she had been growing so strangely the last few months.

    Jewel took a few more moments to blink and stare before she strangled out a sound that was only barely words.

    The volume of it was only constrained for fear of disturbing her Mother and new Sister.

    "Tsulogothulan!"
     
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    • Well, if she were human her first blood would be well overdue by this point, so I suppose it only makes sense.
     
    1.8
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    • 1.8


    Her friend arrived immediately, seeping up with a creaking shift of the old stones as bog peat pried its way between them. Parting the stone through the expedient of simply lifting them up and out of the way. Peat turned sopping with sulfurous water and then in the time it took Jewel to begin breathing far too rapidly the black spire of vine-like heaving 'substance' arrived.

    By the time the brim of the hat unfurled like the wings of a crane and the crescent of pale blue-ish grey skin pierced free Jewel was already speaking, her voice rising in whispered panic.

    Straining to keep her volume down so as to not disturb the sounds of slumber from her mother and newly born sister.

    "Tsulogothulan!"

    Before her friend could finish picking a side of their nose to push out their eye Jewel was already tripping over her words.

    Cradling the topic of her panic in her hind claws as gently as she could. Almost afraid to squeeze the thing which had apparently slid out of her.

    "I just! I just now! Tsulogothulan!    "

    A burbling croak of a frog sliding into a heron wail in the wind passed swamp reeds drug its way past earthy effluvient.

    "Tsulogothulan this is no time for japes I just laid an egg!"

    The eye finally popped free ponderously on the very tip of the weird's nose. Like the bud of some grotesque tree and then rolled in all directions glancing everywhere before finally settling on the egg partly cradled in Jewel's coils and feet.

    "I'm sorry?! say wot Jewel!?"

    Actual words rolled free in classic Tsulogothulan fashion. But far too loudly.

    Jewel shushing with a hiss more suited for water dropped into a hot pan then any civil noise.

    "Quiet! Mother is convalescing after giving birth!"

    Which actually brought up a good point: Tsulogothulan was Father's sworn wizard. Why were they not present to see to his wife's birthing labor?!

    "Where were you?!"

    The Weird for their part shushed Jewel with a black, gauze-wrapped finger that seemed more blackened bones with dark rotting flesh then the clothed appendage it sometimes appeared to be.

    "Quiet Jewel, your mother is convalescing. And I'm no good with births. They don't involve eggs hatching or swamp water. If your mother was a heron, fish or toad I'd have been of great service. But few beasts which bear children as men do pass my waters."

    Jewel was about to make a very inappropriate noise.

    But the Weird had leaned over her... Her egg!

    Jewel had laid an egg!?

    And then proceeded to rap it quite loudly with a single gauzy knuckle.

    The sound seemed to fill Jewel's entire head with the thunderous presence of it. It was like a blow had been made to her skull with a mountain.

    It left her stunned and deafened before a terribly grating scrape followed, echoing up and down her bones. Filling the world with the awful noise and making jewel hiss for quiet, for comfort, to just make the sound cease.

    "Stop that!"

    Which happened, but more because the Weird and her friend had recoiled back, body bending in several places it should not. Somewhat mirroring Jewel's own rearing curved neck posture whenever she was over shamed or frightened.

    It took her several slow breaths between them before she realized that she had brought her wyrmflame to rest in her mouth with the demand. Could feel it laced and waiting with terrible potency on her tongue. Fizzling and flaring on the errant air that yet slipped past her lips.

    It took great effort to swallow the threat back down her throat and pull it into the rest of her flesh.

    "I... I'm sorry my friend. But it was so loud."

    Tsulogothulan for their part withdrew their eye from the tip of their nose and then pushed it out to blink wet and loudly on one side. Shaking themselves out of the sinuous curve they had contorted into and becoming a posture much more manshaped.

    Exhibiting lumps that might be shoulders, hints of a torso and hips beneath the now far more cloth-like pillar that their body was.

    Still black and slick but more like a garment wetly clinging to a body beneath rather than an extended oozing pillar of fleshy tree limbs masquerading as a person.

    Voice soft and rounded but even less reedy and swampy.

    "I... I'm sorry Lady Jewel, but that is terribly interesting. I hardly touched it harsher than this."

    And the weird rapped against Jewel's coils (well away from the egg) and then dragged their 'nail' (just a sharper edge on a finger) against her scales.

    It was incredibly gentle.

    Something that would not have even left a mark on a maiden's skin.

    Almost un-notable to Jewel's scales.

    Which hardly made sense, but since when had anything made any sense when it came to growing up as a tyrant wyrm?

    "But... it felt like I was being pummeled and gouged by the terror boar all over again!"

    The bog wizard scratched at their 'nose' under the one eye. Then nodded softly.

    "Interesting, and most peculiar. You laid that egg? How did you manage that?"

    Jewel gawked at her friend aghast, then looked down between her thighs and the scales which she had been just about certain were entirely smooth and without any hint of blemish or parting as she'd seen in any of the farm animals or other beasts.

    That was actually a good question.

    "I... I'm not entirely sure."

    She'd been thinking, feeling, all but caught up in the rhythm and working of the wise woman for Mother. The rhythm of birth and protections erected for it.
    Had been leaning into it as she had felt herself when performing other workings and had sympathy pangs to her mother's own labors when-

    "Ah! I see, so you are at least partly female."

    Tsulogothulan was staring between Jewel's legs.

    Jewel blinked slowly, then in dawning comprehension she found she could not restrain her wings from flaring and her neck curling back aghast.

    A new motion also joined that one completely unintended but welcome all the same, her hind limbs crossing so her thighs came together to cover the place the Weird had been staring at.

    Jewel could not find any words. She could not find any words at all. Everything was colliding in her head in a jumbled mess.

    Confusion, horror, new found ways to feel shame.
    But under all of it was a surge of relief and a completely unexpected joy.

    Jewel was in fact a lady, as she had asserted for her entire life.

    The ambiguity of whether that was true, whether it even applied to Wyrms had haunted her.

    But there she was, with an egg nestled in her tightly wound tail.

    All the requisite parts for womanhood.
    Well half of them.

    But still!

    Something now made her the same as her mother and her newly born sister.

    It almost let her forget the sheer incredible absurdity of how she had found out.

    "B-but, I've never been with anyone before! That's not how it's supposed to work!"

    Tsulogothulan stared pointedly into Jewel's eyes with their one.

    The big violet colored iris of the orb and it's over thick lashes blinking even slower than usual.

    Scraping the lid closed even more audibly.

    Popping it free of the interlocking lashes even more sharply after a brief clinging to remain joined.
    Then that gaze fell on the egg for a time and then again returned to Jewel, and just to make the point abundantly clear, shoulders popped into place to either side of where Tsulogothulan's neck generously could be said to widen into a torso.

    The left and then the right.

    And only then did they shrug so slowly and so intentionally that Jewel was starting to become rather cross with her friend, but more so with the absurdity that was her life, her world and everything. It all seemed absolutely obsessed with bringing to her as many burdens as possible.

    Her friend offered in a soft but also commiserating tone.

    "The entire reason I am here to observe and describe you for the next thirteen years beyond our friendship is so that it can be known precisely how it works for wyrms Lady Jewel. All bets are off on what that will be."

    Jewel just stared, then turned her gaze down to stare at her egg. It was her egg. She was certain of it, as assured of its providence and connection to her as she was her own limbs, her every coil, her mane, tongue and tail.
    This egg was hers in a fundamentally true way that could not be denied.

    The two were both equally shocked out of the contemplative quiet that had finally settled over them by a soft creaking voice emerging from behind the closed door to her mother's bedroom.

    "Now that y'all both have shut it for the moment, would the young Lady Jewel and the Weird Wizard Tsulogothulan kindly shove off quietly to environs that are not liable to disturb her mother and newly born sister in the middle of the night?"

    Jewel was made properly aghast and whispered the softest of apologies for her poor manners.

    As they departed, she settled on walking with her wings so she could gingerly carry her egg in her foreclaws.
    Tsulogothulan gently cajoling the stones and miniature mire of swamp they had traveled by away to wherever they brought them from.

    It was only by Jewel's hearing that she heard the voice of the wise woman behind the door muttering a chuckling.

    "And congratulations on the laying young lady."

    The condolences even if not meant for her to hear gave a warmth to her wyrmflame Jewel did not expect.
     
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