Ashene lets out a dragony laugh, a laughably high pitched sound compared with Ghar'teus' deeper, rougher voice. She notices his size, astonished that any dragon could grow so large. She decides to try something.
Focusing, she pulls up an image of her true size, which she rarely uses due to the length of her wings and relative unmanuverability of it. Slowly, her form grows, going from 144 feet to 288 feet to 576 feet long, her wings expanding to their full 1,152 feet. Immediately, a weight lifts from her that she had stopped noticing, a pressure like being deep underwater. She lets out her own roar, diving into the lava after Ghar'teus, playfully finding his tail and giving it a small shake, to get his attention.
Hey, Ghar'teus! This is me! The form you first saw me in was only my compressed form, so that I could manuever easier. This is my true size, which I rarely use due to my wingspan of over 1,150 feet. she says to Ghar'teus, in a mental voice much deeper than what she's used to.
(I’m glad you have size measurements, because it’s helping me. I keep getting this thought that Ghar’Teus is around 3,000 feet long, but he’s short and stocky, so he stand maybe a 1,000-1,250 feet tall. Still not sure about wingspan though, but it’s up there. Yes, Ghar’Teus is massive, though his father isn’t much smaller)
Ghar’Teus whirled around, nearly biting Ashene, but stopped himself when he realized who it was. He warbled a bit, only slightly agitated by her playful shake.
I see. You remind me of mine sister. His mental voice is much, much deeper than that of his true form, and seems to constantly growl despite his light tone.
On’nyosh strolled into the village, whistling to himself. He looked around, wondering if there was even anyone in the village at all.
(Gods above… I'm glad I do too!)
She gives a dragony laugh again, amused by his reaction to her.
Is that a good thing or a bad thing? she asks, giving him a playful nudge, weaving her way around Ghar'teus in the volcano's caldera, doing her own version of "underwater" acrobatics.
(Lol!)
Ghar’Teus snorted at her laugh.
She is of similar size to you, possibly smaller. Unfortunately, we rarely see eye to eye, same with mine brother.
He huffed at her nudge, staying near the walls of the volcano and watching Ashene. He then paused at one point to scratch his horns against the wall, rubbing small trenches in the sides.
(Small is a relative term when compared to beings like Ghar'teus and Ashene, lol! Also, just a little detail, dragons in my universe all speak in a similar way to Ghar'teus and Lucitius, but have learned to speak normally. Under certain circumstances, this normal dragon-speak will slip out, unbeknownst to the dragon.)
She pauses and smiles, "swimming" right up next to Ghar'teus, looking him in the one massive eye she can see.
Well, I'm one of the few of my kind left. I am a very special dragonoid. I think your sister is more like me than I am her. she replies, then continues weaving her way around the caldera, a graceful, indistinct figure amid the molten rock and fire.
Unfortunately, it has been so long since I've spoken my races name that I've forgotten it. However, mine kin have been around since the worlds were but fiery balls of rock and ash. she adds, slipping into what seems to be classic dragon-speak.
(Lol. That’s cool. Drāckonians, such as Lucitius and Ghar’Teus, cannot speak while they’re dragons. They can only use sounds and expressions, unless they use magic to telepathically link with another, which is a rare occurrence for them)
Ghar’Teus gives off a warbling snort.
Mine race is threatened by extinction. Only one tribe remains, mine family, and any direct relatives of our race are incapable of breeding. ‘Tis a sorrowful situation, one that I suspect will bring the end of our race if we cannot change our ways
Ghar’Teus thoughtfully watched her swim, appreciating her beauty and their affinity for volcanoes.
Mine race is young compared to many others. A creation of mine father. Before mine birth, he grew ill and, through many hardships, merged with a drāckonian to heal himself. He had ever since been both creator and a royal of drāckonians.
On’nyosh wandered into a tavern, surprised by the absence of people. He then shrugged, walked behind the bar, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He whistled the entire time.
(Yeah. Anyways, here's a twist in histories for Ashene's elder race and Ghar'teus' new mixed Drāckonian/dragon race.)
Ashene gets a flash of memory. One of her parents.
A flash of thought: The Drāckonians are vile, mixed creatures. They deserve death. A flicker of an image: the Drāckonians running, afraid. The images and sounds fade.
Ghar'teus.. she says, confused. Do… do you know how your Drāckonian race nearly died?
She swims right up next to Ghar'teus as she says this, hoping he won't think her rude.
(Hmm… a definite twist)
Ghar’Teus turned to her, his eyes mournful.
We are dying, not nearly dead. As I said, ‘tis caused by our breeding limitations. However, there were more tribes before, eight of them. A great war happened between the tribes, and Father was forced to destroy one to stop the war. After, Father died and the effects destroyed all except our tribe.
He gazed inquisitively at Ashene a moment.
Why do you ask me of this?
I ask because I think mine kin had something to do with your races decline… and this war you speak of. Mine own race nearly died out entirely during a war they unwisely started. she replies, now keeping her distance from Ghar'teus, should he react violently.
I'm one of the few of my kind left. Mine race had the ability to move between realities and dimensions. I can just barely do so, which is how I'm able to compress my form. But on occasion, some old or new dragon would meet another dragonoid race and decide it couldn't survive or was too much of a potential threat, and eliminate it. But you nearly suceeded in eliminating us. Were it not for mine parents, I would be dead as well.
Ghar’Teus watched her cautiously, surprised by her words.
Tribe Aethon. They were always warmongers, yet… I never realized how bloodthirsty they were. That must be why Father destroyed them. If he had not, then they would have slaughtered the other tribes and become a plague upon other realms.
Ghar’Teus sighed and swam upward, grabbing the rim of the volcano to hold himself up. He let the lava slide off of him before dipping the tip of his opened mouth into the lava. Blood and lava drained from his mouth and his eyes closed.
He lost track of time. He remained aware of Ashene, but he otherwise barely paid attention.
As soon as she heard the name Aethon, something inside her seemed to resonate, as though she were a gaint tuning fork that had just been struck.
Oh no… no, no, no… This is not good, Ghar'teus. You know that name you just said? Aethon? I'm not sure about this. I mean, I could be wrong. But mine parents had dropped several vague hints about our family history, and of course I've heard whispers… one in particular. I think that Aethon… isn't as dead as you think it may be. Ashene says, very disturbed and terrified of Ghar'teus now.
I'm not sure that I'm reading into this feeling right. I hope to the gods that I'm not. But if I am… then everything could end up turning very ugly again. she adds.
Ghar’Teus’ mouth snapped shut and his eyes opened. Tribe Aethon, alive? How could it be possible?
I know not how that could be. Father destroyed the bloodline, the entire bloodline. Not even strangelings, our name for half-breeds, of Aethon blood survived.
He lifted his head, looking around cautiously. He saw no other dragons. Then, he slid back underneath the lava, looking at the shaken Ashene.
You need not fear me. I admit, mine abilities are similar to Aethon, for they had fire elemental sorcery, yet I am no Aethon member. I am mine mother’s son. Her bloodline, that of Morpheus, is why I am as I am.
On’nyosh sighed.
“Well, even though I’m bored, a quiet moment is always appreciated,”he commented to himself.
Leaning on the bar, he casually sipped on his whiskey.
I do not know how this could be either. As I said, I hope I am wrong. But I am also sure that I am not. Somehow, Tribe Aethon yet lives… her words trail off into uncertainty, watching Ghar'teus.
Please, Ghar'teus. Do not let your father know of me… I do not want to lose mine life because some of mine ancestors were entitled morons. she murmurs, knowing that his duty will be to tell his father of her.
Techna watches all of this, and sees both the dragonoids dissapear.
"Well, so much for them." they sigh. They follow On'nyosh to the bar.
"Hey, jester! Mind if I have a drink with you?" they ask, silently walking past On'nyosh and sitting down.
Ghar’Teus gave off a warbling rumble, troubled by the news. He remembered the war, though he had not been directly involved. And he remembered the tales of Lucitius’ past, of the tragedies done to him by the Aethon tribe. If Aethon lived, then war approached once more.
I hope, for all our sakes, that you are wrong. Nothing good will come of their return. And I am not bound in any way to speak to mine father, that is not how our society works. Yes, if I can find a way to contact him, I will warn him of the danger, yet I will not mention you. I have no reason to.
On’nyosh noted the approach of the mechanical being, then snorted in amusement.
“Sure!”
He poured a glass of whiskey and set it down in front of Techna. He then sat down opposite Techna, happy to have a drinking buddy.
(I edited my last post to include a reply to @thetrue1’s post. I’m saying this in case it wasn’t obvious)
(Yes, I saw! Also, On'nyosh should probably stop Cass from drinking any more. In an AU, I mean.)
(Thumbs-up. And it’s a 50/50 shot that’ll work, at least, in the intended fashion, lol)
(Cass: Nearly unintelligeable Hello one, hello all! I've come to hiccup bring the hiccup word of alcohol!)
(On’nyosh: Not right now, dear. Another time maybe. Gently snatches Cass by the arm and pulls her away, disappearing somewhere)
(Cass: Okay, hiccup fine. I'll hiccup tell them hiccup later.)
I thank you, Ghar'teus. Ashene replies, relieved.
And if I'm Aethon, would that mean that I'm prone to start fights? she adds, genuinely curious.
Like, would I just start wanting to fight random people?
Techna looks at the glass for a moment, then goes and grabs the entire bottle, sliding the glass over to On'nyosh.
"I'm going to need more than a glass." they say, popping the top off and just draining the bottle in a second, slamming it down on the counter when it's empty and grabbing another one, so quickly that not even light could keep up: they just teleported, basically.
They drain the second bottle as well. "That's better." they say, giving an electronic burp.
"So. I'm not a biological entity. Don't question how I can drink fluids." is all they say, just in case On'nyosh plans on asking how they just did that.
Ghar’Teus nodded in reply.
I doubt you are Aethon, yet ‘tis occasionally tricky to tell. No, Aethon might be the primary warmongers, yet they are more complex than that. They are like fire, hot and stubborn, yet passionate and loyal. They are warmongers because they cannot control their fury.
Ghar’Teus rolled underneath Ashene, his eyes closing breifly as he savored the sensation of the lava moving around him.
On’nyosh watched the whole thing in amazement. He set his now empty first glass down, picking up the second one.
“And I thought I was an alcoholic,”he quipped.
(Would it be okay if I just joined? Who's in charge now that the original creator of the page seems to be dead?)
