Session 30 | Chapter #
Nudging him lightly with my foot, I cock an eyebrow and tease Lendys, “You meddled.”
His eyes flick open, the inner lid retracting immediately following the outer to reveal the striking blue pupils beneath. They’re sharp yet serene staring back at me from his drake form. However, following the vision and getting a glimpse of those eyes in another body, I find myself wanting to avert my gaze. It takes literal effort to hold his stare as he wakes. He tilts his head curiously and states, “Elaborate.”
A light laugh escapes me as my shoulders relax and I lean back against the tree trunk. “In the affairs of mortals. Bahamut said he’s not allowed to meddle like you did,” I clarify.
He scoffs, stretching out beside me, his claws curling into the soil beneath us. “That’s because he doesn’t want to lose his divinity.” He turns back to me and cocks his head. “What did he say to you?”
My eyes narrow slightly at his words. “And you did? Seems like something pretty important for a god.” With mock nonchalance, I feign cleaning my nails briefly before adding, “You couldn’t hear?”
“Yes, I did.” He peers at me intently now, brow slightly furrowed and responds, “No I was asleep for most of it, but I did catch the last bit.”
I muse, “Past tense? Now that it’s happened, do you wish it hadn’t?” I fight to keep my nerves leashed, holding my emotions close and not allowing him to see that if he regrets this, it would send me further into orbit.
Firmly, he declares, “I don’t regret my decision. Having any regrets means that I think my choice was wrong.”
A wave of relief shudders over me and I nod. The weight of his words and the conviction behind them are comforting. He doesn’t regret saving me–even after everything. I extend my hand, emulating his gesture in the castle, and vow, “No more lies? A fresh start?”
He nods, bumping my outstretched hand, and affirms, “I don’t believe I’ve lied since the castle, Maire.”
I search his features for any deception, more desperate than I’d like to admit to even myself, that I want it to be true. Despite the harshness of the things he’s told me since the castle–the truth about my conclave, the truth about our bond, the weight of the situation we’re in–knowing that in the least, it hasn’t been a lie would provide some comfort, some reassurance.
After a long study, I nod, accepting his words as truth. Breaking eye contact with his unnerving stare, my focus shifts to the runic scars on my arm. Rolling the sleeve of my dress up to expose them, my finger starts delicately tracing the raised edges. Looking at them now, I can almost still make out the glowing golden light emanating from them once more. “He told me I inadvertently warded myself from some of Tiamat’s influence by doing this,” I confess.
“Most likely from the more nefarious elements that could affect you,” he muses before laying his head back down on the ground. He closes his eyes and asks, “What’s your next move, Ranger?”
I raise an eyebrow at the sight and joke, “What? My shoulder not good enough anymore?” A little laugh escapes me before turning back to the dark forest. “Honestly? I want to destroy the conclave, but I think that’s a few moves away. Go do recon in the Southern Forest perhaps? Talk to this Markus guy Bahamut mentioned.” I wiggle my eyebrows slightly, curious if anything I said would spark his interest in continuing our conversation.
It’s feeling dangerously familiar to the way Goose and I would gameplan steps in our mission. Logically, I know Goose was–is–Lendys, but the look on his face as he vanished before my eyes still rocks me. My best friend, my closest companion, to be an imposter is something I didn’t think we could come back from. I still don’t think we’re truly back to our previous relationship. But whatever this is, that relationship feels in the least honest and comforting. That’s enough for now.
His ear twitches slightly, eyes still closed, as he informs me, “If I was smaller, I would sleep on your shoulders, but I can’t right now.”
A full bodied laugh escapes me and I reply, “You seemed to do just fine in the vision.” I shake my head thinking about the sight and add, “What was that form anyways?”
Lendys moves faster than I’ve seen as he jumps to all fours and takes a couple steps back. “Excuse me!!” he shouts at me.
I lean forward, hand outstretched, like Lendys is simply just another startled animal. Fear explodes in my chest and I reply as calmly as I can manage, “Whoa whoa! What’s wrong?” My eyes are wide, studying his expression, the way his tail is flicking behind him, his claws gouging the soil beneath his feet.
“You say that again now!” he barks at me.
I jump and quickly blurt, “‘You seemed to sleep just fine on my shoulder in the vision’?”
“No after that, you moron!”
“Gods, what’s the big deal?” I yelp, startled by the ferocity in his words.
His tone is harsh, but not entirely from anger. Fear dances alongside the anger in his words as he shifts into his child form. The young boy standing before me is menacing nonetheless as he commands, “What form did you see?”
Involuntarily, I roll my eyes at the child before me. “Older than this,” I state, gesturing my hand up and down at his form, “But not like the ‘Bahamut’ vision you gave me. What’s wrong?”
Lendys paces back and forth muttering to himself, “That bastard. I can’t believe he did that.” He snaps his gaze to me, shifting back into the body of a drake. “It matters because it means,” he pauses, tilting his head to the stars and yelling as loud as possible, “He’s revealing secrets that aren’t his to give away, Maire!” He meets my eyes once more and snarls, “Would you like it if I told everyone your secrets?”
My body leans forward an inch, instinctually wanting to comfort him, but I hold myself back. Our dynamic is so tenuous and after this invasion of privacy, I can’t push him. Pulling myself back to sit straight, I place my hands in my lap, anything to keep them from reaching out again to him. “I’m sorry–I didn’t know,” I say earnestly, “Hey? I can just forget it happened okay? Old man, child, and dragon. That’s all I’ve got in my brain okay?” I breathe deep, trying to calm my own nerves and add, “Why would Bahamut play games like that?”
He sits back on his haunches in front of me and groans, “Because he could, Maire. He sees it as playful teasing like a–” he stops and shakes his head. “Let’s forget this happened. When I’m ready, I’ll show you that form, but not a moment sooner, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper as I play with the cuffs of my sleeves. Lifting my eyes slightly, head still lowered, I look at him directly and admit, “You know we’re a team right?”
A hint of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth as he replies, “We’re ‘til the end right?” He cocks his head, and I feel him studying me.
His words hit me like a gust of wind, forceful enough to knock me off my feet if I was standing. His crystalline eyes pick apart every minute twitch of my expression as I fight to keep my face neutral–to not reveal the war raging inside me.
That declaration…
That commitment…
The finality of that truth.
No matter what–partners in this or not–we both will likely die from this.
I cough, trying to remain cool, and scoff a little. My reply comes jokingly, but the words themselves cut me like a dagger, “I mean you die, I die. You kind of ensured that right?”
He laughs a little, some of the tension leaving his body, “Well, that wasn’t my intention.”
“Unfortunate side effect?” a laugh chokes out of me. I lift my eyes to meet his squarely, “What was your intention then?”
“Yes, an unfortunate side effect,” he smiles lightly and continues, “My intention was to just be something similar to Silvyr. But instead of a person, just parade around like your summoned companion.” He quietly trails off, “But you know what actually happened.”
Everything comes to a screeching halt in my mind at his confession and my eyes go wide. “The contract…was an accident?” I mutter in disbelief.
Lendys averts his eyes, his tail coming to lay curled against his haunch. “The soul binding was an accident,” he admits.
I shake my head, still in shock that this predicament was nothing more than chance. I want to shout at him for his negligence–that he should’ve thought about someone other than himself at that moment. That even though I’m a mortal, he still played with my life and it is in fact my life. Every curse I want to level at him fades away seeing his deflated form, and I awkwardly joke, “And instead you’re stuck with meeeee.”
He playfully rolls his eyes, and says, “Yeah yeah.” Dismissing the conversation, he curls back up next to me and says, “Wake me when you want to go in for the night.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“One last thing,” I say before I truly have the wherewithal to think.
He lifts his head–not in annoyance, but actually in earnest interest it seems–asking, “What?”
Swallowing down the knot forming in my throat at the memory, I hesitantly ask, “Do you feel anything when I get injured?”
He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s like getting poked when your arm’s asleep. There’s a sensation, but nothing truly painful.” He tilts his head quizzically and adds, “Why?”
“I–” I stop, trying to choose the right words for this statement, “I’ve felt when you…when you die? Desummon?”
“Yes…is this going somewhere?” He pauses and studies me once again. “Are you really going to have a problem with this now?”
I furrow my brow and sit up straighter, unwilling to appear weak in this moment before declaring, “No, I don’t ‘have a problem with it’. I just like knowing what to expect. Especially when I’m in a fight…” My words trail off at the memory of the last time Goose was downed in the fight against Ciamathy. The glacier-cold torrent of energy consuming everything in sight and yet, I felt his absence the moment he ceased to exist. “Distractions can be deadly,” I whisper.
“Like Perona or Layna?”
His accusation stops me in my tracks. I narrow my eyes and tilt my head, trying to gauge why he changed the subject. “No,” I state firmly, “I’m talking about you.” After a pause, my body relaxes and I lean back against the trunk. Looking up at the sky, I can just barely catch glimpses of stars peeking through the canopy. “Perona,” I start, “I’m afraid I might’ve been a little shortsighted there. And Layna? How would Layna be a distraction?”
Lendys chuckles to himself and wryly asks, “Oh so Perona is a mistake then?” Without waiting for an answer, he sighs and adds, “Really? Layna is a liability because of her wild emotions and her choice of partners.”
I roll my eyes at his judgement of Layna and correct his interpretation of my words. “Not a mistake…a lesson learned. I don’t know–this setting is just highlighting things I don’t align with.” Laughing a little, I add, “And let’s be real, shit really hit the fan the moment I decided to ‘listen to my heart’ or whatever bullshit you told me I could do.”
“Don’t align with what exactly?” he inquires, rolling onto his side to be able to face me better. “Because you can do whatever you want. Nothing can hold you back, Maire.”
“I’m glad one of us believes that,” I mumble. His words and Bahamut’s instructions echo through my mind. You need to be self-sufficient. I sigh, not wanting to dig any deeper into those statements and instead pivot back to Perona. “She’s been really possessive–did you hear that ‘mine’ comment? And why does she keep calling me ‘Marigold’? Do I look like a flower to you?” I blurt out. Once the words start flowing, they just keep coming, and my voice gets louder and louder until I’m nearly yelling by the end. I squeeze my eyes closed and lean my head against the trunk.
“Maybe she sees you as a flower?” Lendys says, “Why does that bother you so much? Is the weird possessive feeling from her saying that?”
“Because I’m not a fucking flower, Goose!” I scream–instinct taking over–and the moment the name leaves my lips, my mouth drops and I hide my face in my hands.
“I don’t mind the name, Maire.” When Lendys speaks next, his voice is soft and even, careful not to upset me further, “If this is an issue, why not say something to her?”
An exasperated breath releases from me, nearly on the verge of a scream. Looking up at the night sky, I close my eyes and will my tears to not fall. A moment later, I lean my head back against the trunk and declare, “I know I need to talk to her. You’re both right–I can’t afford distractions right now.” My focus is steel. Emotionless and no distractions. That’s the key to success. I sigh and repeat Bahamut’s words, “Gotta get my head clear right?”
“You don’t have to do anything.” My head lulls to the side at his statement and I find his gaze. It’s careful–not guarded and not entirely compassionate–before he cracks a smile and adds, “You just need to do what you want to do, Marigold.” He lets out a teasing laugh that sounds far too human for my comfort.
The inclusion of Perona’s nickname for me grates on my nerves and I growl back, “Don’t make me push you off this plate.”
He chuckles again, “You’re really not intimidating when you’re angry.”
I scramble to my knees and leap for him in an attempt to wrestle the drake to the ground. I’m sick of being told what I am.
Told I’m sunshine.
Told I’m a cultist.
Told I’m allowed to do what I want.
Told I’m a flower.
Told I need to clear my head.
Told I’m not intimidating.
Told anything.
I jump and try to get ahold of Lendys’ scaled legs, but he overpowers me and instead pins me to the ground beneath him. We’re both breathing hard as he growls back at me, “You’re too weak to try that game with me, little girl.”
Little girl, the Priest’s voice echoes in my head. That was his favorite name for you too wasn’t it? Interestingly he liked pinning you to the ground too.
The image of the platinum drake above me transforms into Soran. Pressure builds in my chest, and I fear I’m about to panic. Out. I have to get out of this. I don’t care what I have to do, I have to get out. I slip my hand to a knife I strapped to my leg just in case something went sideways tonight and pull it, ready to press it against his throat.
As the knife appears in the air between us, jaws clamp around my hand and pull me out of the nightmare of a memory I was trapped in briefly. I blink to see my hand in Lendys’ mouth and I shriek, “Ow!” My other hand shoots up and pops him in the snout, “What the fuck?”
He rolls so he’s facing me and headbutts me, cracking his scaled head against my nose and sending stars flying before my eyes. He yells back at me, “Says the one who wanted to pull a knife on me!”
I cry out again and back in the present and not wanting to have to go down that other road, exclaim, “Well you said I wasn’t intimidating! That was a little insulting!”
“Good,” he spits, “Be insulted. You just tried to kill yourself.”
Groaning loudly, I yell back, “Can you just get your fat ass off me before I come up with any other bad ideas?”
He releases a steaming breath and says, “Fine.” He steps off of me and walks a few paces away before sitting down again.
With my hand freed now, I rub the palm, checking for any sign of injury before looking over at the skulking drake. “Gods, what are you mad about now?”
“The attempted suicide, you hairless monkey!” he spits the words at me over his shoulder.
“Hairless monkey?!” I scoff, “Lendys, you’ve already died since all this started! Or do you not remember that hairbrained idea you had to shove the armor through the tapestry?”
“I didn’t die!” he shouts back, but then tempers the next statement he adds, “I just realm switched to the ethereal plane to escape.”
“Okay!” I protest, “So isn’t that what would’ve happened just now? Poof, agony, and then I resummon you?”
He shakes his head solemnly and answers, “No, I have to initiate the swap.”
“Oh–” I sit back quietly, unsure what to say after that statement, the severity of my actions clear now. “But it’s not like a tiny knife would be enough to…you know…?” I ask awkwardly.
“Could a tiny knife end you?”
His words are too serious, too even, too true. So I lash out and mock him in return, “Well I’m just a ‘little girl’.” I angle away from him slightly, not really wanting to revisit this anymore.
“Gods you’re petty,” Lendys scoffs and turns away from me as well.
I whip back around to him and bite back, “Well maybe if you would give me more information, I wouldn’t feel so godsdammed alone trying to figure out what all of this means!”
He turns his head to me slightly and asks calmly, “Like what?”
“And I’m being petty? Come on! You knew exactly what you were doing when you called me that,” my words sour and bitter, because otherwise the hurt would be betrayed beneath them.
“Yeah, calling you a brat,” he snaps back at me.
I throw my hands up and shout, “Fucking hells man! What’s the point of all of this? Is this some stupid test?” I shout into the blackness of night–releasing all of the anger that’s accumulated inside me.
Anger at Lendys.
Anger at Bahamut.
Anger at Perona.
Anger at my conclave.
Anger at Tiamat.
Anger at myself for letting all of this happen.
“Is this just another way to show just how much I’m not in control and not thinking clearly?” Tears sting at the corners of my eyes as I scream.
“I don’t know–I’m not a god anymore to test you, so I can’t answer that,” Lendys’ tone is more even now, but annoyance still laces his words. “What did Bahamut want you to do? Meet that Markus guy? So do that. Find him and see what this shit is about.” I hate that I can sense the eye roll he unleashes without even seeing it.
“Arg! I already said–” I groan, my body threatening to scream again, but I leash the emotions. Pressing my fingers to my temples, I try to pull myself back together and mumble, “I thought we were getting somewhere…Gah what in the hells is wrong with me?!” I laugh, a sarcastic, exhausted, fed up laugh and shake my head.
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Lendys declares, like this is the plainest truth in the world. “You’re just stressed and need some rest, so go to bed already.”
My gaze shifts over to him. He still stands a few paces away from me, but his expression has changed, softened into concern? Sadness? I sigh and press the pads of my fingers across my cheekbones in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that’s built up there. My posture deflates slightly, because he’s right. A good night's sleep is likely all I need, but the thought of going to bed right now–the only bed I’ve been presented with–makes my stomach twist.
“Fine,” I conceded, “But I need to have a conversation first.” I get to my feet and walk a few paces to stand in front of him. “Can you stay here without wandering off or someone deciding they want a dragon as a pet?”
“Who are you going to talk to?”
My brow furrows, and I counter, “Do I have to report every movement to you now?”
“No, but I would like to know all the same,” Lendys tilts his head and adds, “Besides, I’m not your pet. This is a fifty-fifty partnership with my life at stake here.”
“I know you’re not,” I give him a reassuring smile before slipping on a conspiratorial mask and add, “But there’s weird aristocrats wandering around here. Someone might get a hair up their ass and think you’d be a cute lap dragon.” I pat the top of his head and proceed to head back towards the house. After a couple paces, I turn back around to face him, now walking backwards, and share, “For your information, I’ve got to talk to Perona. I can’t very well sleep next to her feeling this way, and I don’t want her wandering around looking for us.” I force a light smile to my face, and finish, “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Okay–good luck,” he replies. In a moment, he’s climbed the tree I meditated at and finds a branch to lay on. In another, his eyes are closed and I imagine him slipping off into the dragon version of a catnap.
I spin back around and head towards her garden.