A New Beginning

A dragon, not like that of other ongoers of the Stormcaller's, approached the Twilight Palace, gawking at the scenery above him. Knowing not how easy it was to find their home. Of course, stories and legends pointed out the obvious storm cloud sheltering the denizens from most of the barren desert he reluctantly traversed. It was however, curiosity, and fate that had eventually tugged his attention to the only place he knew would be of any asylum, or help.

That being the grand library the Stormcallers had protected over the course of their existence, which was behind the storm he just conquered.

Ever weary and worn from the frantic combat the violent wall gave him, the western dragon finally set down on one of the lower platforms of the mountainous Palace. His wings nearly were drooped to the ground with a hanged head and tail, all signs pointing to tiredness. His scales were still drenched wet from whatever section of the clouds he fought, as with the scarf that covered his chest, appearing heavier and darker than it should appear.

He eyed the wound bandage of plant materia surrounding the majority of his forward right paw, before starting into a limp towards the corridor that would bring him further into the Palace, paying no mind to those whom gave the black dragon estranged glances.

The terror of wind and rain that was the Twilight Palace's guardian was equally unrelenting on friend and foe alike, and the experience was unpleasant to the point that even those blessed with abilities or possessing extraordinary flying skill - or both (such as herself) - to shield them from the worst of the onslaught avoided travelling through the Tempest Ring whenever possible. Only the occasional dragon would emerge, soaked - and even then they were rare.

So Caramina's attention was, needless to say, drawn to a little black figure winging its way towards the Palace. Despite the distance between them, Caramina being perched on one of the palace's balconies, the figure managed to convey an air of great exhaustion that had Cara immediately deciding to assist them. Taking off from the balcony, she spiraled downwards gently but swiftly towards the stranger, who on a closer look appeared to be male.

He was only slightly shorter than she was, and even though he was not in tip-top condition - with his wings drooping, his scarf wet and bearing a look of exhaustion - she found, as she stepped in front of him, that he was quite good-looking. Even through the layer of water coating his scales, they were beautifully dark, a shade Caramina envied. She could tell they were smooth. But what caught her attention really were the pools of teal in his face, a lovely colour.

"I don't know where you're going, but I think it'd be best to clean yourself up first. I'd be more than happy to assist, given that you're willing." She smiled, somewhat uncertainly.

The drenched dragon paused in his tracks, seemingly parsing her words. His deeply thoughtful head rose to the female, catching a glimpse of her white hybrid body, then her verdant eyes, appearing surprised for a moment before looking away. Unfortunately his abacked surprise caused him to stumble over the wounded paw and send his front half into the floor. There sounded the popping of a bone from the bandage, and a grunt of great discomfort.

The wounded paw in question, no, arm, was more marred than previously seen, long cuts and gashes raising just above the forearm. With some wobbly dignity regained from the embarrassing collapse, he raised the paw in higher prudence.

“R-right, yeah, I could… use some assistance...” He shakily, and tiredly hummed in now visible pain, averting his eyes from her verdancy in meager defeat.

He didn't reply immediately to Caramina - instead seemed to digest and consider the question, judging by the silence that she was met with. It was hardly an offensive one, however - more... Thoughtful. At last he raised his head, and something in her appearance must have surprised him greatly, for he stumbled and a painful pop sound resulted; wincing, Caramina watched as the dark-scaled dragon raised himself, managing to gather scraps of dignity as he did so.

She caught sight of some injuries peeking above the makeshift bandage just after he straightened. Initially, they had appeared to her as a mere cluster of leaves, and her gaze had passed over it without a second thought. Silly of her to do that, so careless with the details... She would have offered to help with the bandage, but why deploy her amateur skills when there were healers to ask? Inisha - a reliable one who had also aided in the calming of Shula and the healing of Silver Snow, after both had suffered through the Tempest Ring, like this one here was.

"I know of a healer who can fix you up. Come along, don't rush," she said gently, using a cold breeze to blow over Savan's injured area, attempting to soothe it, then gather underneath his paw, making sure it did not hit the floor too hard when he walked. Given that the dark scaled dragon agreed, she would lead him slowly up a flight of stairs and to a wooden door, and, knocking, had a 50ft western dragon open the door and emerge. Her scales were smooth, her eyes warm brown, between which appeared a line of worry when she spotted Savan's injury - much faster than Cara had.

She gestured with a curved wing for Savan to come in, and would gently begin to take off the bandage to see what kind of wound it was.

He agreed without resistance, letting her keep the cooling wind surrounding his paw, easing his expression. As it leveled beneath, the black dragon quickly bit with mild force onto the bandage, wringing it back and forth, until another pop sounded, letting a sigh of occupied relief wash over him whilst cringing in shortened breaths. It was clear he knew how to field-tend wounds.

“A healer would... be appreciated... greatly…” He answered back, flinching occasionally at newfound pain, visibly showing, but also attempting to hide it.

He let the female lead him slowly up the difficult steps, entering through the wooden door at the welcome behest of the second female and sitting, waiting through winced eyes as she began to study the wound.

As nature’s firm veil was peeled back, she was greeted to the nasty surprise of exposed flesh and running blood, and the slightest exposure of bone around his paw and forearm. It was obvious this vagrant had gotten into a nasty scuffle a few days prior, whatever combatant he faced, had clamped onto his arm repeatedly with an iron jaw, slowly tearing scale and flesh alike as he fought, each claw mark and the indented fang markings only further supported it. But it seemed the pain was much worse as he reeled back with a restrained growl when she lifted the bandage; the pressure of it appearing to have been the solvent to most of his discomfort.

“Feral got lucky.” The dragon breathlessly commented, gritting his sharp teeth with closed eyes all the while.

The stranger's facial muscles relaxed from its grip of pain when she offered a cushion of wind to soften his steps and protect his injured paw, and Caramina couldn't help but feel an easing in her heart. At least she could help with that, she thought, having seen no use in attempting to meddle around with his injury when there was a professional healer to turn to. Respect and approval were present in her gaze as she watched the dark-scaled stranger tend to his wound - not recovering it fully, but enough to ease some of the pain, yet was, thankfully, humble enough to accept help.

She nodded, and kept a careful eye on him as she led the way, saying very little, focusing on the more pressing task at hand. He was probably too tired to speak much anyway, the pain of his wound sapping his already drained self from passing through the Tempest Ring. Cara could hardly imagine the state of exhaustion he must be in, and it was with great relief when she handed the responsibility of healing the stranger to Inisha. Not because she felt pressured, but because she knew Inisha would be able to heal the stranger significantly.

The polished wooden door closed, and Inisha trained her unflinching gaze on Savan's injury, yet another one she would have to heal in her life. Many had come under her attention and left, completely healed, and this would be no different. She wiped away the dirt, taking some blood away while she was at it with a white cloth that she threw into a nearby basin, before passing a paw above the wound, letting her magic do the work. (There weren't any bones to pop back into place, anyway, or something that needed to be physically removed.) A cooling sensation would smother the burning of pain, and the flesh would knit back together, scales reforming over. Whatever blood remained, she wiped away gently.

It was a very quick process, lasting only a minute or so. When done, she disappeared into another room, returning with a pale blue mug brimming with a deep blue liquid that gave off a pleasant, calming scent. She offered it to Savan, who would find the mug somewhat warm, and upon consumption, would spread a feeling of warmth throughout the body, some strength returning to his tired limbs. She threw the bandage away, smiled, and opened the door.

The dragon flinched as she covered his paw with hers, before calming himself over the gentleness of her magic, visibly showing relief through closed eyes alongside a slow sigh. His form relaxed entirely, eventually to a point it looked as if he’d fall asleep at any moment.

His eyes opened to her coming back with the jeweled mysterious brew, accepting wholeheartedly with a paw, while his stomach, and body followed suit with renewed vigor.

Once the remedy settled in his stomach, the cup floated from his paw to a more suitable, elevated position from them. He turned and bowed his head to the healer with an honest smile, clearing his throat.

“I… apologize, for having taken your time with my wound, and I thank you sincerely for your service,” he turned to Caramina, shying his teal eyes from her gaze, “And you as well, you didn’t have to help a stranger.” He finished, being lead by Inisha back to the door.

It was always the same: Her almost-touch was rarely welcomed, though would never fail to be warmed up to as her intent was made clear. The gentle magics radiating from her paw would, besides healing and sealing wounds, ease the body of the pain which gripped it, a feeling that few shied away from. Despite experiencing the same cycle many times during her time as a healer, it never failed to fill Inisha's heart whenever healing was successful; whenever dragons walked away without a single injury to be seen marring their scales.

An almost-surprised expression lifted her eye ridges as Savan moved the now-empty cup to what he presumably deemed to be a suitable place without any visible movement of his own body. Telekinesis? Inisha guessed; but as always, kept her thoughts to herself, her face revealing nothing as she returned her patient's bow with one of her own, and when she straightened, shook her head in response to him, her message clear in the gesture: It's fine; I don't mind. It's my job anyway. She offered a smile as well and closed the door behind the dark scaled dragon.

Caramina meanwhile-- A furrow formed between her eyes but slightly higher. She had no eye ridges, only muscles whose movements weren't very visible. Wondering why Savan's eyes did not meet hers; but kept her question, though could not stop herself from guessing. Was it out of shyness? Why on earth would he be so shy? "That's true," she agreed, "but I wanted to, so I did. I wanted to help you, who was all sodden and half-dead from the Tempest Ring. I couldn't let you go just let that. You'd trample all over my conscience." She offered a grin. "What's your name, though? I'm Caramina - Cara for short."

The moment the door sealed itself, the dragon gazed down and lifted the melded paw, flexing each claw, each strum of muscle within, watching the newfound scales and flesh bend beneath without pause or pain.

Meanwhile, the wet scarf around his neck slowly rose, towards his head, and eventually found itself above him. A quick slide of wet cold water splashed onto the back between his wings giving him a refreshing sensation, all the while drying the beautiful scarf.

He smiled at her poor conscience, “A pleasure to meet you Caramina. I’m… Savan. I-er… s-sorry about that whole scene back there… on the balcony… I wasn’t-...eh… collected.” He stuttered, placing the scarf back down to its original spot whilst letting the water drip onto the floor for a quiet moment.

Savan’s head suddenly snapped from the floor towards Caramina. This time his teal eyes locked with hers, a sincere look on his face, “Do-do you happen to know where the... Library might be? I would be very grateful for directions.”

Noticing Savan examine his healed paw, she said cheerfully as if to reinforce the fact that yes, what the dark-scaled one was seeing was reality: "Good as new, as expected of Inisha." She knew the feeling - of having torn skin and shredded flesh one moment, weeping blood the way a despairing fallen angel might, and in the next seeming almost brand new, no trace of the destruction that had been wrought onto whatever unfortunate part of her body previously. "Is this the first time you've been healed by magic?" she inquired curiously, noting what seemed to be wonder Savan was regarding his paw with.

Admiration and fascination mingled in her gaze as Caramina observed Savan's soaked scarf rise, seemingly without any physical assistance from any part of his body. Telekinesis? she thought as it wrung itself out, releasing a splash of water that seemed to bring the scarf's owner great relief upon contact. She couldn't help but refreshed just watching him, and couldn't help a small smile as she watched, waiting patiently for him to be done, the water slipping off his smooth scales in little rivulets - black showing through some of the more transparent parts of the droplets.

Her smile widened when Savan returned it, and she responded, "Savan... It's nice to meet you. Unique name, I must say. And it's completely fine!" She hastened to reassure him, her voice a great contrast to the stuttering tone of her conversation partner (but she didn't call him out about it). "I've been through the Tempest Ring several times myself. I know what it's like, but I haven't felt the worst of it. I have some... Magic to help. Perhaps I could assist you on your next trip." Cara offered.

Her eyes brightened considerably at the mention of the Stormcaller's library. "Gladly!" she said eagerly, setting off immediately. "It's my favourite place." Judging from his eyes... He really liked books, she could tell, and appreciated it.

Upon hearing her questions about healing magic, he nodded, "Yeah... t-this, is... well. Foreign." He stated with a wondrous pause trying to memorize the healer’s name, “Let’s just say, life is rough… being a…-alone in the dark. Time and patience are what always healed my wounds... Just not all of them.” He ended somberly, letting the water pour onto him for for that moment, before smiling reassuringly at her compliment and comfort. He shook his head, politely declining Caramina’s escortaceous request, “I’ll be fine the next run, first time is always rough. But thank you for asking.”


In the moment he asked her about the library, and her eyes lit up, Savan’s heart filled with beating hope, beginning to accelerate as he kept close to Caramina. His face radiated with reserved excitement.

It seemed the old books he read held true. Perhaps the Stormcallers may answer the weighted questions. It is hope that this female will help him find what he’s looking for.

While he ran in thought, he couldn’t help but admire Caramina’s form without her gaze. He noted her uniquely mixed heritage; a hybrid was truly a rare sight for his eyes, not to mention her beauty. He felt his heart drum in a different tempo than excitement, and quickly made sure it beat back to the former, focusing on his own mission.

Savan's response was... Well, expected. As a rogue, life was, while considerably less restricted, harsh and tough; a dangerous kill or be killed lifestyle, it was quite unlike the luxurious ones led by those in Tribes, where there was always a home to return to, a shelter that stayed; healers to patch up your wounds, friends to speak to and laugh with.

Rogues, in contrast, were out there on their own, scattered and vulnerable. It was a lonely life... It saddened her, yet some were there by choice. "I see," she said, bright green eyes radiating concern. Cara clearly wanted to ask what wounds might time not touch, but knew it was a topic she should not enter yet. So she settled instead for, "Rogue from birth?"

Unexpectedly, Savan declined her offer, and she raised her brows (or rather, the muscles above her eyes). "Are you trying to toughen yourself up...?" she inquired, bemused.


The journey to the library was a short one, having selected the shortest route there. She was awfully eager to show off her favourite place, impress a fellow book-lover with the incomparable grandeur with the Stormcaller library. Her quiet steps slowed to a stop in front of a massive door. Or rather, two - split perfectly in the middle, it was a large rectangle a few heads taller than Caramina and considerably wider than herself, enough to fit two (and a half, maybe) fully grown western dragons. It was made out of polished mahogany, and shone as if in greetings as she pushed it open.

"Yes, I was raised by my mother in Gaiyan Forest." He answered plainly, before taking a moment for her bemused question. "I... just don't want to constantly rely on others. But again, I appreciate you asking."

Savan's eyes were trained solely on Caramina's path, ignoring anything before beside or behind him, clearly dead-set on his goal. Of course as it came back to his mind, he could not ignore the faces some of the locals made as they saw him; disgust, awe, and between.

It troubled him to say the least.

As they arrived at the doors, Savan was almost beaming with happiness, and awe, and wonder, completely forgetting about the faces from before. He knew about pieces of architecture in one of those books his mother gave him, doors being one of such, always wondering why they needed them. He could only imagine all of the books he could find that his mother couldn't give to him. He patiently waited for Caramina to open the door, doing his best not to barge through her and the door.

"The Gaiyan Forest!" she exclaimed, evidently excited by the mention of the second largest forest that Layrian boasted. The reason why was revealed soon after, words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush: "I've read about it - obviously, in the Stormcaller library - and it sounds amazing ... I mean, those herbs would really come in handy, and the weather sounds lovely when it isn't raging in the winter," she laughed. "What's it like there? I've always wanted to visit, but ... Well, I didn't want to get lost..." Caramina shook her head, somewhat despairingly.


Catching sight of the kinds of looks the locals cast Savan, she extended her wings slightly and shot a glare, green eyes alight with indignation. She could hardly understand why they were being so hostile; new faces in the Twilight Palace wasn't all that uncommon, and neither were black-scaled dragons. There was Rihzome with similar colouring, who made it to the rank of Ruler... The citizens should've been well used to it by now. And they were going against the Stormcallers' reputation of turning away none and welcoming all.

Wisely, most of the gazes were averted under her hostile stare. While they seemed to be expressing a certain amount of hostility at Savan's presence, they weren't yet at the point where they would start a fight in order to rid themselves of him. Caramina was well-known for her wind powers, anyway; it wouldn't be wise to challenge her. So no one did, at least at that moment, and the rest of their passage to the library was mostly uneventful. Mostly.


The library was ever changing, its appearance fixed only for a short period of time. The doors swung open under her touch, warm wood parting under her familiar touch to reveal what would be able to impress even the oldest, the most disdainful of dragons. The ceiling was impossibly high, giving the impression of a vast, airy space for browsing, far from oppressive, and opposite it was the floor, composed of pale cream tiles that were quite cool to the touch. Threads of a darker shade wound through the tiles like a river through land, the colour reflecting the walls, which
were mostly hidden by bookshelves, perfectly lined up against walls and in the middle of the large room, not one of them out of line. Brimming with both new and old tomes begging to be read, they seemed to sag slightly under the weight. Some of the titles, printed in gold, were illuminated by the light streaming through tall, transparent windows set in regular intervals in the parts of the wall that weren't covered by shelves.

Dragons lounged on couches provided, scattered throughout the library, each of a different colour, yet seeming to match with the calm coloured room at the same time. One space was set aside for younglings being taught by their mentors; that never seemed to change.

"Welcome to the Stormcaller library," she said with a smile.

Savan barged past Caramina in a rage of stuporous excitement as they entered the Library His eyes lit up like stars, an expression of the deepest awe and wonder as he took in the wonderous scene. Tomes of ancient pages and recent covers lined each shelf with magnificence, the rays from outside seemingly casting a god-like vestige upon the golden linings and tertiaries of the room.

In his mind… It. Was. Beautiful.

He bounded a few feet this way, then that way, not coming to an instantaneous stop, literally drifting across the the dark veined cream floor with a gentle squeak. It was obvious he was well past his boiling point of excitement, pouring out like a little hatchling discovering what snow was for the first time; to a truth. “The books told of the library being the biggest, b-but it never explained how amazingly huge it was! Wow!”

He giggly extended a wing upwards to catch a golden ray on his silver membrane, casting a gorgeous display of glittering, dancing light of regality and simplicity onto the ground further away while the wing itself almost transformed ethereally in the light. He truly felt - and looked - like a hatchling again, remembering when the same rays shone through the grove in the mornings, only smaller.