Silent Flame in Darness

This is a sequel to my story Silent Flame. Though it is technically readable on its own, it was made as a continuation, so feel free to check out the original story beforehand if you want. Enjoy!

***

Silent Flame in Darkness

The knight moved towards her. Eishe knew what was coming, but she saw it too late. It was unavoidable. Her eyes widened as the figure drew closer and I couldn't muster a calm face anymore, the mask slowly falling away. I made a gleeful smirk as I took her bishop and set my own, horse-shaped piece in its place. "Check mate!" I exclaimed.

The dragon scowled at the board, but could only accept the result. It wasn't exactly a fair match, what with my prior experience, but still, she managed to impress me.

"[Odd game,]" she said. "[As]

kantha,

[we would play]

urzeg'ha mero.

"

"[What is it?]" I asked while I fetched my pencil (which was a piece of charred twig sharpened to a point) and scribbled the unfamiliar words in my notebook.

"[You fly above a lake and want to]

roskuul

[the other in water.]"

I chuckled. "Well, I guess we won't be playing that."

Eisherath wasn't paying attention anymore. She was rummaging through the piles of hoarded curios which littered every corner of the cavern and, after a while, produced a fishing rod. "[What is this?]" she asked.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. And just like that, her interest in the game was gone. I had spent nearly an hour trying to explain the rules to her in my limited Draconic and all it took was a single match for her to move on to something else. I had studied the guttural language for weeks before I got a basic grasp of the vocabulary. It wasn't easy deciphering the half-destroyed dictionary. The pages were soaked and the ink smudged in most places, but enough of it remained readable for me to cram into my head.

The first time I addressed her in her own tongue, she stared in disbelief. She had just returned from one of her hunts, carrying the spoils in her claws and started processing them in the designated spot when I approached her.

An'vor sholnr

I said. "[Welcome home]".

Eishe forgot what she was doing and just watched me mutely. I unfroze her from her trance by showing her the book, explaining in rehearsed words why I had been studying it. She couldn't read the letters, but when she realized what it was, her eyes lit up.

"[Are you happy?]" was the first thing she said to me. It took a little refresher for me to decipher the sentence, but once I pieced it together it brought a tear to my eye. I cupped her cheek in my hand, smiling into her huge, burning eyes. Of course, my answer was: yes.

The second thing she asked was what a coat hanger was for.

One might think Eisherath's interest in hoarding relics from shipwrecks would dwindle after acquiring an actual stranded sailor, but no. It had redoubled! Every time she brough home a new trophy from the unforgiving coast, she showed it to me excitedly, asking about its purpose.

The shores of the Southern Reaches were deadly. 'Ship killers', we called them. Decades worth of debris littered the coastline, the sea sometimes spitting out flotsam from vessels years sunken. They became objects of interest for Eishe. Her whole life, she would collect trinkets and oddities from foreign lands, fascinated by their unknowable nature; dreaming of worlds beyond the ocean. And now, a piece of it had wandered into her life.

The Reaches were nothing like my homeland. A wild, untamed place. There were no humans here, at least according to Eishe. She didn't even have a word for my kind. And yet, somehow, we had managed to find each other in this dangerous, beautiful land.

She would have me tell her stories from my home. Asked about my life on the sea. Listened with curiosity as I explained each new item she showed me. We haven't even gone over half of her hoard and wouldn't for a while yet. Luckily, we had all the time in the world.

Once I cleaned up the chess set--and the rocks that substituted for the missing pieces--Eishe was already setting up a fireplace by the cave's entrance. After we had eaten and the night had fallen, I sat down near the flames with two books in hand. I scanned my notes and searched for the unknown words in the dictionary. I learned that

Hal

meant 'sky',

Roskuul

meant 'to knock down', and

Kantha

meant 'children'. Or 'hatchlings' as the author had put it, but I imagined it was all the same to a dragon. And just like that, our communication grew a little smoother.

There were a bunch of words I couldn't find as well. That wasn't unusual. The dictionary was incomplete and much of it was beyond saving, the pages shriveled and discolored as the book got washed up. Still, it remained remarkably legible. Whoever it had belonged to must have kept it safe in a bag or such before their ship sank. The volume was filled with odd scribbles and sketches of idols or carvings too, and contained languages from across the world. I imagined its owner a researcher, studying cultures and linguistics. They might have travelled to the Southern Reaches to uncover local tribes and mysteries... only to never make it to shore. At the very least, their legacy hadn't been for naught.

I closed the books and put them back in their place. The fire was waning and the night air grew chill. The cave never got as cold as I would have expected, much thanks to the thermal spring flowing through, radiating warmth all around. Still, it was a cave and we were high up in the mountains. But despite that, sleep was never a problem.

I took off the furs I'd been wearing, followed by my old boots and pants. The fuzzy pelt which made up our bed felt soft beneath my bare feet. Eishe was already waiting. I stepped over her tail and laid down against her body, the heat from her obsidian scales pouring across my back as she laid her arm around me, clutching me to her chest. She curled up into a circle, her neck and tail wrapping around each other, before covering our forms with her wing.

Lying in darkness, the only point of light that remained was her eye. Vibrant red and highly reflective, with slitted black pupils, Eishe's eyes put me in mind of smoldering embers among black ashes. I reached for that dancing light and caressed her cheek. She closed her eye with a pleased exhale, the warm air from her nostrils brushing against my skin.

"[Good night, Eishe]," I whispered and she responded with a soft, purr-like growl. Together in that embrace, we slowly drifted off to sleep. Just like every night.

***

The next day wasn't quite as peaceful. Chill winds brushed my skin as I wandered the rocky hills surrounding our nest. My boots were holding up just fine after the few necessary repairs, which was a blessing as the jagged rocks that pierced the grassy plains were not pleasant to walk on bare footed. I clutched the furs tighter around my shoulders, scouring the hilltops for any shrubs or edible herbs I could find.

This was what I did for a living now. I couldn't complain, in truth. I was more than willing to take up the role of gatherer while Eishe spent her days hunting; I was far better at identifying the useful plants or shrooms than her. It helped that I was the only of us one who could consume them. I had been worried how we might endure winter as my foraging would be put on hold, but Eishe proved to be expert at hunting even in the cold and here, down in the south, true, lasting snow never came. Between a dragon to provide sustenance and the warmth of the thermal springs, I survived in relative comfort.

Now that spring came, it should have been easy. But my gathering was cut short by the whims of the weather. Again. I rushed back towards the nest, scaling the steep ascent to the cave mouth as the raindrops hit me, heavy as gravel. Thunder rumbled overhead. I shed my wet boots and damp furs, submerging my feet in the hot water. Finally relaxed, I pulled up my satchel and inspected the contents. Empty; save for a singular root.

I sighed and laid back on the stone floor when the beating of great wings disturbed me. Eishe barged in, spraying rainwater everywhere and radiating anger. There was a single small hare in her claws, which she laid aside irritably.

She saw me lounging with my feet in the water and her eyes narrowed. I stood up and walked over to her, eying the rabbit.

"[Welcome back,]" I said. "[No luck?]"

"[No,]" she answered quietly, eyes suspicious. "[You?]"

I presented my nearly empty bag apologetically. "[No Luck.]"

A low growl sounded from her throat. "[Then we go hungry.]" She scowled then moved to prepare the hare, leaving me to ready the firewood.

There was no direct word for 'I'm sorry' in Draconic. Dragons had other means to express their feelings. I stood there for a moment, trying to work out a way to diffuse the tension. "Uhm... [I regret you have to share food again...]"

Eishe turned her head with angry swiftness. Her eyes now appeared less like warming embers and more like a furious conflagration. "[Regret?]" she hissed.

I took a step back, surprised and confused. I chose the next words the best I could, trying to form a meaningful sentence. "[Have I wronged you?]"

"Kartha'sul maegr vhen'ta aergr druul!"

I blinked, my face contorting into a dumb grimace. It was an awkward feeling when your partner yelled at you and you had to go grab a dictionary. I scowled at the pages, eyes widening as I scanned the words. "[You do not mean that!]"

"[You ate our reserves!]" Eishe accused.

"[I was starving too!] I protested. [We had no other food.]"

"[You have your own! That which I can't eat]"

"[It is gone. Weather made gathering bad.]"

"[Lies! You have more left! I saw!]"

I sighed. I saw where the problem lied. I rubbed my eyes as I took a deep breath, mustering a calm voice. "[I know plants are the same to you, Eishe,]" I said, sympathetically, "[but I can't live on] basil."

The anger in her eyes softened. She hung her head low in shame and exhaustion, breath deep and heavy. I approached her and she pressed her head into my chest, my arm hugging her close. "[I am tired,]" she said.

"[I know.]"

Eishe closed her eyes as she leaned into me. She didn't have any words for apology. She didn't need them. I kissed her forehead and let my head fall against hers.

"[We will go down, to the lowlands. When weather is quiet.]" I spoke. "[Find food enough for another winter.]" She rumbled an approving purr.

We stayed like that for a while, as if afraid of letting the day's struggles get between us again. The warmth of her scales against me, her hot breath on my chest, spread comfort through my body, easing the tension that had built up in my muscles.

"[Thank you, my Equal.]" Eishe whispered.

I smiled and murmured in response: "[I treasure you, my Equal.]"

"[Like you are my own heart,]" she finished.

When I first got a grasp of Eishe's language, the first thing I wanted to say to her was to greet her as my lover. I was beyond disappointed when I never found a term for that in the dictionary. Not for 'lover', nor 'mate', not even for 'partner'. Only later have I learned that in Draconic, their word for that was 'Equal'.

As I taught her about the world beyond the sea, Eishe explained to me the intricacies of dragon culture. You could scarcely call it a society, for dragons rarely met up, preferring to keep to themselves or the company of their mates. When encounters

did

happen and decisions needed to be made, one dragon always deferred to another. In whatever interaction they were in, there was always a hierarchy, with every dragon being a Better or a Lesser to someone, according to a preconceived set of rules. When a dragon refused to submit, there was a fight, ending with one surrendering to the other's authority.

The only one a dragon accepted as an equal was their mate. In their eyes, deeming someone their Equal was the purest expression of trust and adoration possible. There was a kind of strange beauty to it.

The rest of our day was pretty uneventful. I sat by the entrance listening to the rain, while Eishe prepared what food she found. We ate, we talked, she bathed, I watched. Sorting through the stuff I had appropriated from her hoard, I packed what I needed for the upcoming trip. When it came time for sleep, it found us effortlessly. We had a long few days ahead of us.

***

"[What do you see]" I asked as I reached the rocky hilltop.

I laid my bag on the side and sprawled across the stone besides Eishe, looking out over the grassy fields and the horizon full of trees. My breath was heavy and my legs ached. Living in a safe and cozy cave atop a mountain where the view was unmatched and where no dangers could reach us had its downsides. Namely, everything was far away.

The highlands had too much edible vegetation for a single human to complain and Eishe could fetch most the of the rarer stuff herself, so on most days I left the exploration to her. There were times however, when a more thorough foraging needed to be made and a human's walking speed left much to be desired.

I did come forward with the idea of Eishe carrying me once but she quickly dismissed it. It wasn't a matter of pride or anything vain, but rather of safety. As much as I liked to fantasize of racing across the skies on her back, such an attempt would have proven extremely deadly as she was quick to point out. Dragon flight wasn't exactly a smooth sailing. It was a chilling feat of acrobatics, full of rolls and dives and sharp turns as Eishe constantly battled the gale winds at breakneck speeds. There's simply no way I wouldn't fall to my doom. I had no means of properly securing myself.

Even that one time she had to carry the unconscious me to her cave, she'd been awash with fear that she would drop me. When Eishe carried her prey, she used her claws to get a good grip. Trying to maintain a hold on my sweating form without hurting me proved to be a challenge, one that she would rather not repeat. Thus, whenever we wanted to get places, it took days.

It was the dawn of day three when Eishe signaled that she had sighted orcs. Her amazing predator eyesight allowed her to spot the band of shifting green bodies among green trees from high in the skies. This however, also made her plainly visible to anyone who looked up above their head. She made a misdirecting maneuver and vanished behind a group of hills off to the north before reappearing to my right, running up to a vantage point. It took a minute or two for me to catch up.

"[Greenskin,]" she snarled as I crawled to peer over the edge. "[North west. Near stream, bellow lake.]"

I opened the bag of curios from Eishe's collection and dug up one of my personal favorites: a monocular. It was amazing, the things you could find in a dragon's hoard. I followed her gaze as she crouched behind the hilltop like a cat and searched around until I found the aforementioned stream. There, perhaps two hundred meters away, was a band of orcs. Tribal warriors wielding spears and clubs, adorned with red and white warpaints of ash and blood.

I knew the sight well. They had caused us no end of troubles on my initial journey through the Southern Reaches. Luckily, our encounters with them since had been few and brief as we mostly managed to evade the prowling warbands. But the orcs never stopped thirsting for revenge.

At the moment, they appeared to be refreshing themselves, gulping down palmfuls of water or refilling their improvised containers. It was a big group. I didn't get an exact count as I couldn't fit them all into the lens's field of view, but it reached double digits. These guys were ready for war.

There was a figure that stood out. Even among the hulking orcs, it towered over the others. In contrast with the warriors--who were clad in simple loincloths or straw skirts--this one was completely shrouded in a tangle of skins and furs held together with numerous strings adorned with feathers and bones. The only skin he was showing were his bare hands and feet. On his head, he wore a carved wooden mask affixed with antlers and painted with white ornaments. Besides that, it remained completely featureless, with only two round holes where the eyes would be.

"[Who is that? The covered one?]"

"[A greenskin,]" Eishe answered curtly.

I rolled my eyes and refocused them on the figure. What I at first mistook for a spear turned out to be a staff of sorts, its branching tip decorated with carved beads and bird skulls. He was leaning on it, patiently watching the other orcs while they recuperated. Perhaps a war priest of sorts? Or a chieftain?

Whatever the case, the others clearly deferred to him, for after a while, the masked one gestured towards the mountains and the group promptly got up and marched away north. They took the bait. Which of course meant that they were indeed after us.

"[They head wrong. We go on feet,]" Eishe announced. No difference to me. At least we could walk side by side together. In my eyes that was well worth the tradeoff for aerial scouting.

Descending into the verdant grasslands, we continued our journey hidden by the tall canopy of the neighboring forest. The valley was much warmer than the mountaintops I had gotten used to. It was a nice change of air. And of scenery! Flowers bloomed, birds chirped from every branch, insects buzzed in the spring breeze. I loosened the furs draped over my shoulders and exposed my chest to the temperate climate. Overall, the place was rather stunning like this.

It didn't take long for Eishe to perk up, nostrils flaring at the scent of potential food. Even though dragons hunted from the sky, not unlike birds of prey, her sense of smell still humiliated a human's. Downwind, she might even sneak up on prey before it smelled her.

Disappearing into the tall, yellow grass way more smoothly than a being of her size should, Eishe quietly slipped out of sight. I left her to do her thing and proceeded with my foraging. I had already gathered a non-negligible amount of greens on the way down to the valley, but my diet was desperately lacking in flavor. I aimed to gather as much fruit and spices as possible on this trip, preferably something that could be dried to make it last.

Coming across a bush of berries, I set down my spear and started filling my pack. It was a properly made spear this time, with a head of chiseled stone on a length of a sturdy carved wood. I had yet to use it though, which I considered a good thing.

Something rustled in the shrubbery. I quieted down and peered over the berry bush for the source of the noise. A pair of antlers jutted out of the undergrowth, moving slowly and almost without sound like a fish swimming through a sea of leaves. Without looking, I retrieved my spear and circled around the bush. Perhaps this time

I

could bring home some game.

Advancing slowly, I gripped my spear backwards, readied for a throw. I meant to approach the animal from the side, but as I walked around, the antlers always turned to face me. It must have scented me. Nevermind then. So long as it didn't perceive me as a threat it should work just fine.

I pictured the cervine body to accompany the antlers and calculated the ideal position to strike. I was no hunter, but I gathered that somewhere a foot below the head was a good spot. When I glanced down at my imaginary target though, my hand froze mid throw. From between the shrubbery, two round, yellow irises stared at me, huge and far further apart than I expected for a deer. They were tracking me with the unmistakable forward-facing gaze of a predator.

Sweat broke out on my forehead. I didn't move. Didn't breathe. I swallowed dryly as the abyss gazed back at me from the bushes and thought up a quick prayer about careless wishes, for it was evident the creature before me did

not

perceive me as a threat.