ahhhhh! It’s finally here! Great job Starseeker!!!

Panting, exhausted, and adding three new blisters to my collection, I brush away the last strands of grass and enter the village. Golden dragons stare at me from every angle, but none stop me as I march up to the temple, pull open the door, and shout up to the trapdoor.

“I’m done!” I shout, cupping my battered hands to my mouth. No answer. “I finished your stupid tests! I made it back! You can let Chamarys go now!”

Still no answer, except a slight sound before me. I spin around, hand going to the mirror shard in my pocket, but there’s nothing there except for a door that I’m certain wasn’t there before. It’s a solid thing, made of wood, but it’s hanging slightly ajar. I cross the room to it and open it a little more. It leads to a staircase, spiralling down and down. It’s the same staircase that I went down before to begin the tests.

Frowning, I scan the room, but there appears to be no other option. This must be the way to Chamarys.

I step forward, mindful that something might jump out at me. Then I step onto the first step of the stairs. Nothing happens, so I continue downwards and downwards, finally ending up in the same room as before, with the doors leading to far-off places. I stop short at the bottom of the stairs, clutching at the bottom post to keep my balance.

Across the room from me is Chamarys, laying on her side. For a moment, I think I’m too late and she’s dead, and my heart stops. But then I spy her great golden sides moving almost imperceptibly up and down. A few feet away from her is a strange pod, pulsing slightly. In between them is a small blue vial emitting a faint light.

I take a step towards Chamarys, wondering what’s wrong, when a voice behind me says, “Are you certain that’s the choice you want to make?”

Spinning around, I see a figure emerging from the shadows, the light catching his metallic golden scales. It’s Airimium, but instead of the kindly dragon I came to know, he looks severe and hard, pinning me with a harsh gaze.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “Chamarys is right there! I can save her!”

Airimium says, “You have a choice to make. On the one talon, there is,”-- he gestures with his tail-- “This… female here. She is slowly being poisoned, and the antidote is there.” He gestures to the vial. “But on the other talon, there is… that.”

He points toward the pulsing pod.

“What is it?” I ask.

He chuckles a little bit. “It’s the only hope we have left. It’s one of the last dragon eggs. Inside it, a female. It’s the only female egg we have.”

I shrug. “Okay, that’s great, but what does that have to do with me?”

Airimium smiles, and simply says, “Choose.”

Before I know what’s going on, he turns his head towards the egg and blows a blast of flame. It settles in an advancing ring around the egg, growing closer by the second.

“What have you done?” I cry. “Why would you do this? You said it yourself, that’s the only hope you have!”

Airimium smiles again. “So you know what you must choose. Hurry, you don’t have much time left.” He gestures towards a hourglass I didn’t notice before. Almost all of the sand is gathered in the bottom, and only a very small amount is still remaining in the top. Even as I watch, a good portion of it trickles into the bottom.

I cry out, looking from Chamarys and the antidote to the egg and back.

“Choose,” Airimium says again. “Hurry! There’s only time to save one!”

What do I choose? The egg is the only hope the Blaze has left! But Chamarys… she was kind to me. Morrowmist loves her. I can’t leave her to die.

Gritting my teeth, I make my choice.

AHHHHHH! STARSEEKER WHY HAVE YOU DONE THISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS???????

I lunge forward and grab the antidote, almost dropping it in my haste. Then I turn towards Chamarys.

“What are you doing?” asks Airimium from behind me. “You can’t do this! You have to save us!”

I ignore him, reaching my hand into her slightly open mouth. I force it open, almost nicking my hand on one of her sharp teeth in the process, and pour the antidote in, praying to whoever will listen that it works.

“Stop!” Airimium shouts, but it’s too late. Chamarys’s eyes flutter, then open. “Zoey…” she breathes. “You saved me.”

I throw my arms around her wide neck and say, “Of course I did, Chamarys. How could I not?”

She looks confused. “But-- the egg--”

The egg, of course! I turn around just in time to see the flames reach it. They devour it, reducing it to ashes in seconds.

Or, they would have reduced it to ashes, had it not disappeared right before.

I spin, turning to Airimium, and ask, “Where did it go? What did you do with it?”

Airimium looks highly disappointed in me. “There wasn’t an egg, Zoey. There never was. It was a test. All a test. A test, which you failed. Guards!”

Golden dragons swarm from from their hiding positions, and one of them seizes me in their claws. I’m too shocked to struggle.

“But-- I saved her! I saved Chamarys!” I exclaim.

Airimium shakes his head. “No. You chose the life of one dragon over the life of everyone. A true hero wouldn’t have done that. A true hero would never have chosen personal attachment over the greater good.”

Now, addressing the guard holding me, he says, “Put this criminal in the brig, and don’t let anyone talk to her. She’s to be executed in the morning.”

I struggle hard, now, but futilely. The dragon holding me is just too strong. “I haven’t done anything wrong!” I screech. “Please, don’t kill me! Please!”

Airimium appears not to hear me as he turns to the stairs. “Shame,” he says. “I really thought she was the one.”

“Elder Spark--” Chamarys starts, turning her anguished gaze on him, with a pleading note in her voice.

He whips around and shoves his face in hers. “Do not speak to me, abomination!” he roars. I search his face for any trace of the kind dragon I met earlier but find none. He is well and truly mad.

Chamarys shrinks back, looking cowed. She shoots me one last panicked glance before the dragon holding me turns towards the stairs and follows Airimium up them. I kick and claw at his talons, but it does no use. When we reach the top, I go limp once more. I can’t stop this.

Airimium notices my lack of struggling and smiles, a sick, twisted imitation of a human grin. “Ah, good, you’ve accepted your fate,” he says.

I spit at his feet.

Airimium takes a step back involuntarily and scowls at me. “Put her in the brig,” he orders again, and storms away. The dragon guard tightens his hold on me and paces out the door, his steps uneven because of the claws holding me. I start struggling and shrieking again, crying out to everyone who can hear me to  save me. I get several pitying looks from the dragons we pass, but none of them stop to save me. The dragon guard approaches the only other building in the camp, a forbidding stone structure, and nods at the dragon by the door. The door dragon shoves the heavy stone door open with a grunt, revealing a staircase that spirals deep into the ground.

I stop struggling. I know there’s no way I can escape now.

The dragon guard opens his wings and spirals down the stairs, wingtips brushing the stone sides. We spiral down and down, so far I think we’ll hit the center of this world. Finally the stairs level out, and the dragon guard sweeps his wings back, stopping our spiralling plunge. He touches down on the ground, and I go limp once more. The dragon strides down the passageway, nodding at other golden dragons standing at attention along the way.

Finally, at the end of the stone passageway, the dragon stops in front of another door-- this one of iron bars. The dragon calls something to another dragon, who steps forward and places his talons on the door. The lock ripples, and the dragon holding me tosses me inside impatiently. I land with a heavy thunk on the floor, and the door slams shut behind me.

“Make sure nobody talks to it,” the guard dragon growls, and stomps away.

I curl on the floor and sob.

I’m going to die.

nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Wow, I'm cranking these out fast! It's because I'm so excited to get it done. I'm closer than I've ever been before, and it's... exhilarating!!!

~~~

I only know I’ve fallen asleep when I wake up. For a second I wonder where I am. Then it all comes back to me: leaving Earth. The trials. My failure.

My upcoming execution.

All at once, all the pain that had been kept away by adrenaline comes surging back. I groan and flop back down to the floor as my sprained wrist, bumped head, slashed face and arms, broken nose, sore shoulders, nicked ankle, cut lip, aching core muscles, abused ankles, and foot blisters remind me that they’re there.

I didn’t even know there was this much pain in the world.

In the passageway beyond my cell, I hear a slight thunk, then a scraping sound. Pushing myself gingerly to my knees-- it’s the most I can manage without adrenaline-- I cock my head, trying to hear better. Then there’s another thunk and more dragging. I reach carefully into my sock, avoiding the tender cuts left by the glass shards I stashed there, and grab one of the shards.

“Who’s there?” I call. Have they come to execute me? I thought I had more time than this!

A short pause, then, “Zoey?”

I gasp. I recognize that voice.

“Morrowmist?”

A blast of flame illuminates the torches by my cell, and I can now see Morrowmist’s great bulk in the passageway. She’s not alone. Behind her are Chamarys and, to my surprise, Jelein.

“Chamarys?” I say, gasping. “Jelein?”

Chamarys nods, a nervous expression flitting across her face. Jelein nods as well, acknowledging me.

Morrowmist peers a little closer at me, then rears her head back. “What happened to you?” she growls.

I shrug. “Just the testing. Most of it is worse than it looks-- those lanbai were nasty.”

Morrowmist looks shocked. Jelein gasps. “Lanbai?” he says incredulously.

I nod. “Yeah. Lanbai.” I turn my head into the light a little more and show them the gashes across my face, and Chamarys whispers, “Oh, Zoey…”

I shrug. “I took a good number of them down with me,” I say, pulling one of the mirror shards out of my sock.

Morrowmist grins. “That’s my girl. Now, we need to get you out of here. Jelein, you have the keys, right?”

He nods and fumbles with his claws, unhooking a key ring from one of his talons. “Here, Navigator,” he says, giving them to Morrowmist. She takes them and chooses a certain key, gracefully inserting it into the lock-- I don’t know how-- and twisting it. The lock pops open with a slight click, and Morrowmist rushes inside and wraps me tightly in her tail-- a dragon hug.

I hug her tail just as tightly, fighting back tears. “Morrowmist…” I whisper.

She nods. “I know, Zoey. I know.”

I turn my head towards Jelein. “Jelein?” I ask. He startles a bit, like he’s forgotten where he was.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask him. “Chamarys and Morrowmist I get. They’re my friends. But I just met you this morning.”

Jelein ducks his head. “You are the One,” he says. “You shouldn’t be treated this way. You’re a hero, not a criminal. No matter what the Elder Spark says, I believe that.”

Now it’s my turn to duck my head. “Thank you, Jelein. Truly thank you. Thank all of you. If not for you, I’d be dead.”

Chamarys smiles at me gently. “Without you, I’d be dead, Zoey. Consider this debt paid.”

Morrowmist taps her claws together to reclaim our attention. “Zoey really must be going,” she says. “It’ll be dawn soon, and the Elder Spark’s guards will come looking for her.”

I feel a stab of fear. “Aren’t you coming with me?” I cry.

Morrowmist shakes her head. “No, Zoey. I have to stay here. As much as I believe in you, my first duty will always be to my Blaze. I can’t leave them.”

I throw my arms around her neck and bury my face in her scales. She curls her head over mine, and Chamarys reaches out her tail to curl around one of my arms. Even Jelein brushes my back with his wing.

“Goodbye, Zoey,” Morrowmist says, and her words are echoed by Jelein and Chamarys. “When you leave, head straight away from the woods. Keep walking, and eventually, you’ll end up at the edge of dragon lands. From there, Avalon isn’t too far. You can find a guide and make a new life for yourself there.”

I choke back a sob as I nod. “I understand, Morrowmist.”

“Be careful,” Chamarys breaks in, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was about to cry. “Send a message if you can when you reach Avalon.”

There’s a moment of silence, and I’m grateful no one says what we’re all thinking: if I make it to Avalon. It’s a long shot by any means.

“Goodbye,” I say one last time. I go past her to exit the cell, limping on my sore ankle as I do so, but hesitate, turning back to her. “May I--” I start, then stop. “May I have one of your scales, to-- you know, to remember you by?” My voice chokes up on the last few words, and I have to fight to keep my eyes from spilling over.

Morrowmist’s eyes soften. “Of course, Zoey,” she says, and reaches her sharp teeth  down to her foreleg, ripping off a golden scale with one neat movement. She extends her neck to offer it to me, and I take it, slipping it into my pocket. It clanks against the sea-dragon’s scale, Chamarys’s scale-clues, and a few mirror shards.

Then I turn for real and limp out of the cell, towards freedom in the great unknown.

~~~

~Starseeker 

At first I try to keep track of the hours.

Hours turn into days.

Days turn into weeks.

Weeks and weeks of walking, walking, walking.

Weeks and weeks of avoiding dragon patrols looking for me, though by the time I reach the edge of dragon lands, they’ve mostly died out. They probably believe I’m dead. I can’t believe I’m not. The first days were the hardest. Those were the days when my wounds were the freshest, when everything screamed whenever I moved. Those were the days I thought about turning back, letting myself be caught by a patrol, just to end this misery. Because I thought that even death would be better than this torture.

Then I would think of Morrowmist, of Chamarys. What they had done to get me out. I’d think of Jelein, whispering his belief in me. And I’d keep walking.

Finally, though, I stumble upon a village. My first instinct is to hide, or go around it, giving it a wide berth. I can’t let any dragons find me-- they would probably turn me in.

But then I realize-- these houses are too small.

The inhabitants aren’t dragonic.

They’re human.

With a great shout of delight, I rush forward. Maybe they can help me find a new life. Maybe they can help me find a good meal-- I’ve been living off of whatever I am certain is edible for the last few weeks, which isn’t much.

But when I get to the village gates, my heart sinks. Two men stand in front of them, holding long, sharp spears that they’re pointing… straight at me.

Their skin is darker than anyone I’ve ever seen, and their black eyes are narrowed at me.

I try diplomacy. “Hello,” I say, trying to look non-threatening. “Can you help me?”

The one on the left says something in a babble of words I can’t understand, words in some other language.

I shrug helplessly. I can’t understand him.

The man repeats himself again, and, seeing my bewilderment, growls and shoves his spear at me.

My already low heart sinks farther. “Please,” I beg them. “Please let me at least stay the night. Then I’ll leave, I promise. Just one night. I just need to spend one night with humans.”

The man who spoke before growls again and shakes his spear at me once more. He takes a step towards me, only to be interrupted by a babble from behind him. He stops, turns, and says something back. The voice says something, sharp, and the man scowls. Then he turns back to me and gestures sharply for me to follow him.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” I cry, and to my embarrassment, my eyes begin to spill over with tears. I haven’t spoken to another human in… I don’t even know how long, and even if we don’t speak the same language, someone’s taken pity on me.

The man scowls deeper and turns on his heel, going inside the gates to his village. I follow him in, making sure to stay close as the gates swing shut behind us.

I can’t help but gape a little-- the village is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

The houses almost appeared to be grown from the land itself. They were willowy and amorphous, crafted out of dirt and grass. Some even had plants sprouting out the tops, or vines wrapped around the sides.

I’m distracted from this sight by a chattering near my ear. I turn and shriek. There’s a monkey in my face!

The villagers laugh and point at me, thinking my ignorance foolish.

Even though they can’t understand me, I say, “I’m not afraid of monkeys. I’m just not used to them being shoved in my face.”

I turn back to the monkey, which I can now see is actually sitting on a woman’s shoulder. She gabbles something at me, and I realize she’s the one who stopped the soldiers from turning me out.

“Oh, thank you!” I say, clasping my hands to my chest.

She gabbles something else, sees that I can’t understand, and frowns. Then she points to herself, and slowly says, “Abbah.”

I nod, assuming that’s her name. “Yes. Abbah. You’re Abbah.”

The villagers laugh again, and I realize that to them, it seems like I’ve called myself Abbah. My face burns.

I point at myself and say clearly, “Zoey.”

The village woman cocks her head at me, the movement mirrored by the others. They look like a large flock of curious birds. “Abbah,” she says again, pointing to herself.

Then she moves her hand and places her palm on my chest. “Zoey?”

I nod. “Yes! Yes. Zoey.”

“Zoey,” the villagers whisper, like a tide sweeping through their ranks.

Abbah smiles, takes my arm, and babbles something at the others as she leads me away. She takes me to a small house, but still one of the largest in the village. It has red flowers twining around the doorway, which she brushes aside with one hand. On her shoulder, the monkey chitters as one of the flowers sweeps across its face.

I frown. I have already decided that I don’t like that monkey, not one bit.

Abbah leads me through the doorway. Inside, she makes me sit on a bed made of soft greens and animal skins while she bustles around, chattering away.

Turning back towards me, she’s now holding a small wooden bowl full of a nasty green paste. I think she’s going to make me eat it, and my nose wrinkles. It looks disgusting.

Instead, Abbah gestures for me to hold out my arms. I do, and she starts slathering the paste onto them. I hiss as the cool substance is rubbed into my skin. I didn’t know how sunburned I was until now, and even though she’s gentle, this slight pressure causes great pain. I retract my arm, glaring at her.

Abbah makes chiding chittering sounds until I grudgingly give my arm back to her. She keeps rubbing in the paste, until I look like I’ve just been covered in a thin layer of guacamole. Then she starts in on my face and neck. As she rubs it into my face, her gentle fingers find the healing scars left there by the lanbai. Her fingers trace them down my face, perhaps remembering the ones on my arms as well.

Abbah looks at me questioningly, but I shake my head. It’s a story for another time. The lanbai-- my trials-- everything is too complicated to explain without words.

Abbah finishes her task in silence and then leaves, and I wonder what has happened to her. Then, finally, she comes back, holding a large bundle of rough, light-colored fabric. She shakes out the top piece, and I realize it’s a dress, like the one she and the other villagers wear. This one is much too large for me. Muttering to herself, Abbah goes through the rest of the stack, finally finding one that will fit half-decently on me.

Abbah helps me stand, then reaches for the collar of my shirt. I step back, raising my arms as a sort of shield. Even though my shirt has been ripped by the lanbai and by weeks of long travel, I don’t want to take it off. My clothes are the last thing I have from Earth.

Abbah frowns, chitters, and reaches for my shirt again. I shake my head harder. She sighs, frowns, and motions scrubbing at my shirt, then mimes handing it back to me. Then she raises an eyebrow as if to ask me if that’s okay.

I nod, and Abbah reaches forward again. This time, I let her take it off me and put the dress on instead. Then I take off my skirt and leggings as well, taking the shards and scales out of my pocket as I do so. Her eyes widen at the sight, but she says nothing, so I put them in a small leather pouch she gives me.

Folding up my old clothes with one hand, Abbah tucks the bundle under her arm and leads me out of the house with the other. I squint my eyes in the sudden bright light.

She leads me around to the edge of her village, where there’s a large structure. As we step inside, I can see it’s a bathhouse. Abbah reaches around the door to a basket with a packet of soap and a scrub brush. She herds me towards the steaming water-- it must be from a hot spring-- but I shake her off and take the items from her, intending to wash myself.

Abbah shrugs, babbles something at me, and leaves the bathhouse.

I take off the dress-type thing, folding it loosely and setting it on the ground. Then I step into the steaming water. I hiss for just a second as the water hits my battered body, but then the heat begins to feel nice. My knees buckle and I almost fall to the ground. This feels so, so good.

I lean against the edge of the pool, feeling a ledge at the backs of my knees. I sit on it, so that the water now comes up past my shoulders. I’m surrounded in a cocoon of warmth.

After soaking for a long while, I finally remember the little bar of soap, which I use to scrub myself. The scars left by the shattering lanbai are raised and pinkish against my skin, but they are healing nicely. My body is now a bit of a patchwork, alternating between healing skin and undamaged paleness.

I didn’t even realize how much I needed a bath until I step out, wringing out my hair. The water is a dull brown color, full of weeks worth of dust, dirt, and sweat, not to mention a bit of blood. I pull the dress back over my head and smooth it down over my damp body. Then I walk out of the bathhouse in my bare feet, taking care to avoid rocks and rough patches.

Abbah meets me outside, taking me by the arm and leading me to her house once more. It’s nearly dark-- I must have been in the bathhouse longer than I thought.

Once inside her house, Abbah leads me to her bed and gestures for me to lie down. I do, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. That is, until Abbah sees my open eyes and begins to sing softly. The words are in her language, not mine, but they flow around me like water. All too soon, I’m lulled to sleep by the gentle sounds of Abbah’s lullaby.

Wow, this is one of the oldest active threads on the Inkwell! I mean, I wouldn't exactly call it 'active' active, but there are still posts being made. It's only topped by balletandbow's Longest Thread Ever. I am... feeling quite proud, I must say. ZOEY MUST LIVE ON!

~Starseeker