FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Chapter Sixty Three

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Sometime in the dark of night, Revaramek awoke with a piercing scream. He jumped to his paws so fast he banged his head against the stone ceiling. Pain thudded through him and brought a second cry. He grabbed his throbbing head in a forepaw, muzzle scrunched and ears splayed. At least he didn't have to worry about breaking his horns.

"Are you alright?" Nyramyn peered up at him from the other side of their little cave. Worry shone in her eyes, even in the darkness. She pushed herself to her feet, tail tip twitching. "Did something bite you in your sleep? If it's a sting-snail, we have to-"

"Nothing bit me." Revaramek rubbed his head, then glanced at his paw. Nothing wet glistened there, so at least he wasn't bleeding. "Just a bad dream, I think."

"Ooooh. I'm sorry." Nyramyn nuzzled at his neck. "How's your head?"

"Sore. I'll be alright." He set his paw down, wincing.

"Thanks to your thick skull, no doubt."

"Hilarious."

"And at least you don't have to worry about breaking your horns." Nyramyn tilted her head, smiling. "Though, they say a male's horns are a measure of his-"

"Not helping, Nyra!"

"I wonder what losing them means in that regard?"

"Very little, I assure you!" Revaramek snapped his jaws at her.

Nyramyn ducked her head to glance along his underbelly. "I wouldn't call it very little. Just regular little."

"Nyra!" Revaramek swatted at her neck with a paw, and she pulled back, giggling. "That's not helping!"

"Took your mind off your bad dream, didn't it?" She settled on her haunches, wrapping her wings around her slender, green-scaled body.

"So it did." Revaramek sighed, but soon nuzzled her. "I'm going to have other bad dreams now, where a bunch of females all stand around saying humiliating things to me."

"A bunch?" She cocked her head, still grinning. "You say that as if you've had 'a bunch' of females before."

"I've had plenty of females." Revaramek shook himself, turning to the back of the cave. "Give me a moment."

"Only a moment? Is that all the longer it took? You'd think if you had that many experiences with an entire bunch of females, you might have learned to last a little longer." She nipped at his tail when he turned and brushed it against her.

Revaramek couldn't stop smiling as he padded to the end of the cave. She never stopped sinking her wit's fangs into him, and somehow, it always made him feel better. If anything, her tongue had only grown sharper in the many months he'd known her. Now that she had someone to practice her banter with, her acidic wit had grown into a nearly unstoppable force. Back when he lived in the marsh, he'd held his own against Mirelle, but this was different. Nyramyn could talk circles around him as easily as she could fly circles around him. He'd never have thought such a thing would make him so happy.

At the back of the cave, the sweet scent of fresh water drew his attention. He lowered his muzzle, sniffing at the rocks, savoring the aroma. He'd grown so used to the smell of clean water in the marsh that he'd almost taken it for granted. Being back in the swamp reminded him what a precious commodity drinkable water really was. Before meeting Nyramyn he'd flown for days just trying to find it, until at last she showed him a place where it bubbled from the rock itself.

The cave in which they lived was a small, humble shelter that now felt more like home to Revaramek than any other place he could remember. There was enough room for the two of them to each have their own sleeping space, but little room for much else. Nyramyn's few humble possessions sat around the cave, little trinkets she'd collected from the swamp and its ruins. At the back, fresh, clean water burbled through tiny holes in porous rock. Revaramek wasn't sure if something in the rock itself filtered out the poison, or if it came from some deeply buried spring, untouched by the corruption in the world. After all, there was no way to tell how deep into the world the shared grief of Vakaal and his father had penetrated.

The dragon shuddered, his scales clicking together. Hints of frightening images and unnerving thoughts stitched themselves back together in his mind. He'd been dreaming about them again. The pup, the father, and Asterbury. He tried to remember the dream. Hints of golden sand and stone drifted through his mind, but trying to recall the details was like grasping at the clouds. It didn't stop him from trying. The pup and father, he thought, in the sands. Then Asterbury, and the water.

Revaramek grumbled. He'd long since given up trying to figure out who Asterbury was, first, or how he felt all their pain at once. None of that had any influence on his new life here, but that didn't stop him from dreaming about them. From dreaming about the desert. He did wonder, from time to time, which version of his own story he'd ended up in.

The water here was higher than he remembered it being in his youth. He wasn't sure if that meant it was still rising, or if somehow, the gate sent him to another version of his home. For a time, he'd wracked his brain about it before he came to the conclusion that like Asterbury, it just didn't matter to him now. He was where he was, and this was where his life would play out.

More importantly, Nyramyn was here. He smiled at her over his wings. She gave him a confused look. Revaramek turned back to the water. Whatever version of the story they shared, it was the right one.

Revaramek lowered his head down to the little pools where the water collected before it siphoned away and drained back into the stone. Nyramyn sometimes used scavenged shells to collect it, but he preferred to drink it straight from the rock. Revaramek lapped at the puddles. The water was cool, and compared to everything else in the swamp, fresh and sweet. He drank till the little pools were empty, then waited for more to collect. When he'd quenched his thirst, he gave a long sigh, and a loud belch.

Nyramyn grunted behind him. "Charming."

"Aren't I?" Revaramek eased back around and turned to his sleeping area, the other side of the cavern from her. It was small enough he could stretch his wings and brush the walls, but keeping their distance gave them both room to move around in their slumber. He settled onto his haunches, staring at his paws. "You should go back to sleep."

Once there was room at the back of the cave, Nyramyn rose to all fours and padded past him. "Soon. Once you're ready to sleep too. And no staring at my haunches."

"I only stare because they're so lovely." The dragon smiled, but kept his gaze respectful. He didn't need to look back at her to know she was beautiful. Nor did he have to watch her drink to know she'd collect the water in her shells, then hold them to her muzzle and slurp them clean. "You're cute when you drink."

Nyramyn laughed between gulps of water. "You find the oddest things appealing."

"You're right, you are odd." Revaramek smirked at her.

As she returned to him, Nyra snapped her teeth. "You're asking for a smack."

Revaramek gulped and covered himself with his forepaws.

Nyramyn glanced down, laughed, and shook her head. "My, but your friends in the marsh have trained you well."

Rumbling, Revaramek eased his paws away. "Mirelle has these boots..."

"I don't know what that word means, but I wasn't planning to hit you there." She settled down onto her haunches on her side of the cave. "Of course, the more you cover yourself that way, the more appealing the idea becomes."

"I fear it's going to be a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Best behave, then." Nyramyn pushed her forelegs out, sliding down onto her belly. "Do you want to talk about it?" She stretched a wing towards him. "Your dream, I mean. Not your abusive friends in the marsh."

Revaramek gave a great, brassy laugh. "Not sure I can call them abusive if I know I deserved it every time."

"At least you can admit you're a great big scaly ass deserving of such punishment, then."

"Was a great big scaly ass." Revaramek held up a forepaw. "I have been quite sweet and respectful of you, have I not, Water Ally Nyramyn?"

"You have." Nyramyn bowed her head towards the stone floor. "It's nice to know males can be trained." She tilted her head to give him a little smile. "So. Your bad dream. Did you want to talk about it? Seemed to help last time."

Revaramek scrunched up his muzzle, flattening back his ears. "I don't really remember the details, anymore. At first there was sand. A great, golden desert. And a scared little pup. And...some kind of...city? A place of stone. And then...then he was there. The urd'thin. Angry and laughing, and...all the sand was washed away. I think I was drowning. Something was...holding me under. I could hear him laughing, even through the water. And my...my mother was there, I think." The dragon shivered, scales clicking as a chill ran through him. "Under the water. I could hear her voice, telling me...telling me that it was alright to let go."

Nyramyn stretched out her wing to lay it across his back. She smiled at him, but otherwise remained silent, letting him speak.

Savoring the warmth of her wing, Revaramek searched for words. The memory of the dream was fragmented, comprised as much of feeling as it was of images. There was fear and confusion, the cold water, his mother's voice, the urd'thin's laugh. The darkness and suffocating fear, inescapable. He swallowed, shaking his head.

"That's...about all I remember." The dragon cocked his head, staring at the paler, green-scaled female. "Do you ever feel like...like you've escaped? Like...like you were meant to die, but somehow you survived, instead?"

Nyramyn gave a single nod, waving a paw at the world beyond their cavern. Darkness covered the swamp, and strange howls echoed through the night. "I think everyone who survives to adulthood here has escaped something terrible. Not all of us do, you know."

Revaramek murmured, his ears drooping alongside his head. "We all live four lives..."

"What?" Nyramyn tilted her head at him, furrowing her eye ridges. "What does that mean?"

"He said...there's four stories about me...I die in three of them, here in the swamp. Only I made it out alive. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not...dreaming about the others." Revaramek swallowed, staring out across the dark swamp beyond their cave.

"There are times I have no idea what you're talking about." Nyramyn shook her head, then licked her nose.

Revaramek sighed, glancing down at his crossed forepaws. "Probably better that way."

Nyramyn pulled her wing away from his back, then held it crooked in invitation. "Do you...dream of her often? Your mother?"

"Not as often as I did when I was young." Revaramek gazed at Nyra. She kept her wing up, then gestured alongside her body with her head. He rose to his paws, padded over to her, and then settled down against her side. Nyramyn cradled her wing across him, and Revaramek leaned into her warmth. "I dreamed of her a lot, back then. I used to feel like...she was guiding me, even though she was gone."

"You lost her when you were young, right?"

Revaramek nodded once, canting his head. "Do you believe me, when I talk about the marsh?"

"I believe most of it. I also believe you've a very vivid imagination." Smiling, she bumped his nose with hers. "But you were far too lost here when I first met you to have ever survived the swamp on your own."

"So I was." Revaramek returned the gentle nudge, then stared out across the night, snuggling under her wing. "My mother...sacrificed herself for me. Not...not all at once, but...over time. To keep me fed, to find water...to find a way out. I think taking me through the gate sapped a lot of what was left of her strength. She gave up the rest to teach me to fly, to hunt, to bring me people to teach me their language. I remember our last day together quite clearly. I think she was...very happy in her last moments, knowing I was growing up strong. That she'd saved me from this place."

"And now you're stuck here again." Nyramyn's voice drifted, and she glanced away, holding back a muffled whimper.

Revaramek nuzzled at the softer scales along her throat. "I came here of my own accord, more than ready to die. I would have died happy knowing I'd saved my friends, and their beautiful world. Now I live happy." He set his paw atop hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Because I get to share this world with you."

"Arrrhh..." Nyramyn made a little cooing noise, brushing her muzzle against his. "Still trying to get under my tail, I see."

Revaramek laughed and licked her cheek. "No. I'm happy just to have your friendship. I went a long time without really...knowing friendship."

"Most survivors here do. There's only so much food and water to go around. My parents, they..." She trailed off, and lay her head down on the stone. "Sometimes I have bad dreams about them, too..."

"Do you want to talk about them?"

"My parents, or my dreams?"

Revaramek flexed his wings under hers. "Either? Both?" He squeezed her paw again. "Just thought you might like to share, but you don't have to."

"Never really...talked about them, before." Nyramyn shifted herself, scales brushing scales. She leaned her neck against him.

"You can, if you'd like. But I won't pry if you don't."

Though they'd shared their home for months now, if not longer, Revaramek did not yet know much about her family. He knew she spent at least a few years wandering the swamp alone. She found clean water once before, only to have it stolen from her by a larger, stronger dragon. They'd fought and she lost, and the older male was unwilling to share unless she'd be his mate. Revaramek wanted to go and find that other dragon and help Nyramyn kick the hell out of him, but he knew well enough there was no need. They both had water now, and could let things be. But what led her to start wandering in the first place, she hadn't told him.

"I grew up with both of them." Nyramyn laid her head across the back of his neck, her voice soft. "My mother and my father, I mean. Far from here. Far enough that I doubt I could find the way back, even if I had to. There were a few other dragon families, in the area. There was a little more water to go around, back then, and a little more prey. Sometimes I...remember a deeper blue sky, still glimpsed through holes in the clouds. I remember..." She waved her paw at the cavern entrance. "More trees, smaller trees and...hills. Still above the water. As if there was more to this world than...swamp."

Revaramek clenched his jaw. He stroked the scutes on her foreleg. "There was."

Nyramyn's smile shone through in her voice. "Now you sound like my parents. They used to swear to me that when they were but hatchlings, there were hills and mountains, and that the swamp wasn't always poisoned, and the water wasn't always so deep. That there were...lush forests, and...another place, of golden sand, far across the world. Like from your dream, I suppose. They used to speak to me of a time from before, when the world was more than poisoned swamp and blasted wasteland."

"The place they spoke of sounds a bit like the marsh. Clean water, lush forests."

"That's what I am reminded of when you speak of this...this..." Nyramyn traced an unsheathed claw tip in a circle on the floor. "This other world. It sounds like the world my parents knew when they were young. Some days I'd swear I could remember it myself. Other days, I'm sure I'm only remembering youthful dreams, spawned by my parents' stories of a better place."

Revaramek shivered, his tail spines rattling. "Four images, painted on glass..."

"Hrrrm?"

"I'm just babbling." Revaramek patted her foreleg. "Go on, please."

"Whatever may once have been is gone, and the only world left is this one. My parents thought that...we live too long, that...it's hard for us to adapt, the way other life has adapted."

"Or the sundered sky just affected dragons differently. Gave some of us the spark, just like the urd'thin had it, to survive their desert." Revaramek licked his muzzle, wondering about that. "If the dragons don't know how to use it, it can't help them survive..."

Nyramyn lifted her head from his neck, then nipped at his frills. He yelped and pulled back, and she glared at him. "Do you want me to talk or would you rather ramble to yourself?"

"Sorry." Revaramek chuckled and ducked his head, nuzzling her throat in apology.

"I'll forgive you." Nyramyn laid her head against him again. "This time."

"How gracious of you." Revaramek closed his eyes, savoring her touch, her warmth, and trying to ignore the little tingles it brought him. "So, you grew up with other dragons? It was just my mother and I. My father...I never really knew him. I think he died, when I was too young to remember him. Or maybe my mother and he simply...shared a passionate tryst together, while they could, then separated so she'd have more food to share with me."

"It would be common enough, out here." Nyramyn stretched her wings, then draped one back across him. "Once you have a hatchling to care for, it does shift your priorities. We were lucky, there were a few little springs in the area I hatched. Enough water for...several dragon families. Food, too. I grew up along with a few other dragons my age, including this male with blue scales. Rather rare, really. His name was Kegaram, and...well." She gave a rumbling purr. "We were about the same age, so we came upon maturity together, and..." She shuddered and let out a very happy sounding sigh.

"Your first, hmm?"

Nyramyn laughed, blushing a little around her frills. "Yes. We used to slink off into the swamp to be alone, thinking no one knew what we were up to. I'm sure they all knew, but why not let us find our joy while we could?"

Revaramek couldn't help but laugh with her. "Oh, and I bet you two found a lot of joy together."

"We certainly did. We learned all about..." She swallowed, flattening back her frills. "Each other. I...I miss him sometimes." She cleared her throat, glancing away. Her tail curled and twined around Revaramek's. "So, now that I've gone all purple in my frills, your turn. Who was your first?"

"Complicated question." Revaramek purred in memory, even as he wondered about her first mate. What had happened to him? She seemed eager to change the subject, and so he did not push her. "You really want to know?"

"Only if you're comfortable telling me. What makes it complicated though?" She tilted her head, then flared her frills. "Oh! Because you used to do things with that human woman?"

"That..." Revaramek gave an incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "No! Well, yes, but...I mean..." His tail coiled back against hers. "I meant it's complicated because my first mate was Aylaryl."

"Aylaryl?" Nyramyn gasped. "Isn't she the one who broke off your horns?"

"Yes." Revaramek decided against correcting her. "We had a very...complicated history."

"So I see." She pressed her nose to his scales, grinning. "But I did hear you purr, so I must not have been that complicated."

"The parts that made me purr came long before our relationship got complicated." Revaramek nosed back at her, shifting beneath her wing. "But if we talk too much about the things we did with former mates, I'm going to have to lie in a different position before I get too uncomfortable."

"How unfortunate for you." Nyramyn laid her head across his neck, her voice softening again. "Did you really want to hear about my family? It will have the opposite effect on you."

"I can't tell what effect you want to have on me."

"And that's the way I like it to be."

"Yes, I've noticed. So I hope you're not offended if someday I end up excited around you." Revaramek rumbled to himself, chuckling.

"So long as you're not waving it about in my face or demanding my assistance, I shall not hold it against you." She grunted, squeezing his tail with her own. "And no jokes about me holding it against you."

"Beat me to it."

"I always do."

"So you do."

"No jokes about beating you to it, either." Nyramyn smirked at him. "Especially since I'm certain it would be the reverse."

Laughing, Revaramek snuggled up against her, gently rubbing her foreleg. He couldn't tell if she was avoiding continuing the subject on purpose or not. "You don't have to talk about your family, if you don't want to."

"No...no, it might be...nice. To have someone listen." Nyramyn was quiet so long Revaramek thought she'd changed her mind. For a while, he just listened to her soft breathing, wondering if he'd see ghosts dancing in her eyes if he turned his head to look at her. When she spoke again, her voice had changed ever so slightly, a hint of lonely pain skulking behind her words. "I have nightmares about them sometimes. My family. It's been some time now, thankfully. They always leave me shaken. Once I screamed myself awake, just as you did. Even in my waking state, I leapt up, ran, and took to the skies, still half-convinced they were chasing me."

"Chasing you?" Revaramek slipped his paw over hers, rubbing it.

Nyramyn took a deep breath, and let it out in a slow sigh. "Your mother lived long enough to teach you how to survive, but she took you from this place when you were still very young, right?"

Revaramek gave a single nod. "Right. It wasn't till later, that the poison finally took her. It had...weakened her more and more over the years but..."

When he trailed off, Nyramyn squeezed him with her wing. "It doesn't always go that way. Sometimes it...it rots the mind faster than it rots the body. When I was young, we all lived together. But as each dragon in our little makeshift clan came of age, and learned to care for themselves, we had to make choices. There wasn't...there would never been...enough water, enough food for that many adult dragons. It could support families and their children, but...not so many adults, not with their own children. And as time passed, the waters in our little springs didn't flow so swiftly. To make things worse, as I grew up, the swamp rose far enough to swallow one of our water sources. So..." She shifted her neck against him, her wings tense.

"Take your time." Revaramek clasped her paw.

"Often times...some of the adults got sick faster than others. The poison affects everyone a little differently. Some get more exposure to it, others less, but everyone has to hunt in it from time to time. Some dragons tolerate it longer, get fewer effects. Usually when...a young dragon is old enough to care for themselves...if their parents were still alive, they'd leave."

"The parents left?" Revaramek scrunched his muzzle. "Why?"

Nyramyn was quiet for a moment. "So their child would get their share of the dwindling water."

"Oh..." Revaramek swallowed hard, then stroked her foreleg again when she trembled.

"And to protect their children, if the poison sets into their mind." Nyramyn lifted her head to nuzzle at his neck. "She didn't tell you about that?"

Revaramek shook his head, coiling his tail against hers. "No."

"I'm not surprised. She got you out of there, why trouble you with what might have been?" With a whimper, Nyramyn leaned into him. "I didn't know either, when I was little. Didn't know why the older younglings' parents would leave, or why we had to split up. Didn't understand about things like water rationing, or springs going dry, or..." She waved her paw. "Having too many dragons competing for too little food. And then one day my parents took me aside, and told me how the world was dying, and that...to survive, one day we'd have to split up."

She took a breath, steadied herself, and continued. "They explained there wasn't enough clean water or food to go around. So, when the time came...they would leave me there, with the water, to ensure my survival. And they would fly off in a new direction, in the hopes of finding a new water supply. They...they didn't have to tell me it was probably a death sentence for both of them. Sure, some of those who left found water." She chuckled in her throat. "I did. Twice. I'm good at it. But not everyone is. Most of them probably died out there. But they died knowing their children, their families, would live a little longer because of their sacrifice. I like to think that made them happy, in the end."

"That's..." Revaramek cringed, deep inside. His belly twisted in cold knots. Was that why he'd never known his father? A sacrifice for the son he'd never truly know. "That's horrible."

"No." Nyramyn shifted herself, lifting her paw from his grasp a moment. "That's a beautiful, but tragic sacrifice. The horrible part..." She tapped an unsheathed claw between his broken horns. "Is when the poison gets to your head, first. When it rots your brain. The horrible part is when your mind goes, and you..." She shivered, all her scales rustling, her wing shaking against him. "Turn on your family."

Revaramek sucked in a breath. His tongue was hard clay in his muzzle, the words stuck in his throat. Unable to find his voice, he gently grasped her forepaw, twined his fingers with hers, and gave what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. He wriggled out from under her wing, to cradle her with his, instead. She glanced at him, her eyes wet, then snuggled up against his warm, beneath his comforting shelter.

"They didn't, before you get the wrong idea. But...they told me it would happen, one day..." She took a deep breath, her head against his. "My family is...tolerant to the poison, to an extent. It doesn't sicken us as easily as others. They'd both lost weight, as I grew, but it took its toll slower on them. But their minds...After a while, it eats away at your...consciousness, I suppose. Your memories. Till you...you can't remember who you are...who your mate is...who your daughter is. Till you're just...instincts. There were others, who had...eaten...I...I don't need to explain...do I?"

"No." Revaramek squeezed her paw, gritting his teeth.

"By the time they were talking about...leaving...it was just us. There was still one good spring left, but most of the dragons had gone to try and find a place to start a family...or seek out new water sources...and it only the three of us, left. Their health was deteriorating, as it eventually does for all. But it was slow, and...they were worried their minds would go first. I heard them talking one night, when they thought I was asleep. They wanted to leave soon, so that I'd have the water and the remaining prey all to myself. But...they had years left, years left to live and be happy and love each other, and hunt and fly and mate and live their lives. They wanted to give that all up just to...to protect me. So I decided I wouldn't let them. I decided that I would leave, and let them live out their days, with the water."

Revaramek hugged her with his outstretched wing. He shifted to hold her forepaw between both of his. "That's...wonderfully brave and tremendously kind of you. Did...they try to stop you?"

"Of course. They realized what I intended a few days later, when I hugged them each a long, long time, told them how I loved them. I was...crying, and...it was not a hard puzzle to solve. So I thanked them for being such wonderful parents to me, for teaching me how to live, how to survive, and I told them...I told them to spend their last years finding their joy, together. And then I took to the skies. They flew after me. But...well." She blinked away tears, sniffled, and then gave him a playfully smug nudge with her muzzle. "You've seen me fly."

"They could never catch you."

"No. I outflew them...looked back one last time, to see the pale sun shining on their scales...called out that I would always love them, and then plunged under the clouds, so they couldn't see which way I went. That was the last time I ever saw my parents. And I told myself that day that, if I survived, then for all the hardships they endured, all the horrors this place inflicted upon us all, that I would live every moment I could with all the joy I could muster, and I would laugh at every terrible thing the swamp could throw at me. For my parents. And I hoped every day that they would do the same for me."

For long, quiet moments, Revaramek stared at her, awestruck. Each time she opened up about the way she sought to live her life, she was somehow even more inspiring. He only wished he could put such feelings to words. When his stare made her frills flush, he forced himself to try and do just that. "You have the most beautiful soul I've ever known."

Nyramyn gaped at him, then turned away. She flattened down her frills as if uncomfortable with such compliments, but her smile betrayed her. "Th...thank you. I think you have a beautiful..." She turned back towards him, looked him over, and the nudged him with her muzzle. "Well, at least you're good at telling stories."

Revaramek laughed, curling his tail. "So I am."

"Do you feel better?" Nyramyn rested her head against his neck. "After your bad dream?"

"I do. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She pulled her paw back from his grasp, stroking his copper-striped scutes, instead. Her paws were unusually soft, and warm. "Truth be told, I think I was having a bad dream, too. Your scream woke me just as it woke you, and...I think I'm all the more grateful it did. I don't...always wake easily from my nightmares."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

The female scrunched her muzzle, flicking back her ears. "It's the sort of thing that recurs. It's usually...my parents, chasing me. Madness in their eyes, blood on their claws. They're always gaining on me. I'm terrified, and...my wings won't work. I can't outfly them. The swamp has taken their minds, and they don't recognize me. I can never seem to wake until...until they catch me."

"Then I'm glad I had a nightmare, too." He smiled at her, hugging her tighter beneath his wing as if to shelter her from every terror the world had to offer. He tilted his head, curled his neck, and licked at her ears a few times. "I'd gladly spend a night in fearful shivering if it meant my fright would wake you from your own."

Nyramyl rumbled a throaty purr, leaning into his licking. "You're remarkably sweet for someone so egotistical." She yawned, her maw split wide. All her frills flattened back along with her ears, and her pink tongue curled in her muzzle. Revaramek found it adorable, even as her yawn proved contagious."Let's hope neither of us have those dreams again tonight."

"Agreed." He inclined his head to the other side of the cave. "Shall I give you some room?"

Nyramyn scrunched her muzzle, then shook her head. "No, it's alright. You can sleep alongside me, if you wish. If you don't mind my tossing in the night. A little added warmth and comfort might keep us both feeling safe in our slumber."

"I'd like that." More than she knew, he was starting to suspect. He stretched his wing further to fully encompass her, wanting to shelter her through the night.

"You know what you could do?" She murmured without lifting her head from his scales. "Tell a story."

"A story?" Revaramek cocked his head, smiling. "Now?"

She murmured again, brushing her muzzle across his scales in a half-hearted nod.

"What sort of story?"

"A happy one."

"I'd be delighted. I have...a story about a human, hunting a dragon in the snow, but I promise you, it ends happily for them both. How does that sound?"

"It sounds as if you've spoiled it." She laughed, her tail flicking against him. "But I only know of snow from your stories, so...yes, I'd love to hear it."

Revaramek took a slow breath, and began his tale. He spoke softly, knowing full well she'd be asleep long before the end. She often was when he told her stories at night. But he did not falter, nor did he stop telling his story until it was complete. Perhaps the words would paint pictures in her dreaming mind. As the saga wound to its happy conclusion, Revaramek hoped that happiness sunk into her subconscious. He wanted to help her find her joy, even in sleep.

When the story was done, he lifted his head, gentle so as not to wake her. For a little while, he watched her sleep. He'd stopped counting the months now. It might have been a year already. Or longer. He couldn't tell anymore. The seasons didn't change in this place. There was no way to mark the passing of time short of the aging of their bodies, or marking the walls with his claws. But he knew that every day he spent alongside her, he cared for her just a little more.

Strange the way things work. His mother sacrificed herself to save him from this place. Revaramek sacrificed himself to save the marsh from Asterbury. The story made him its hero, and in the end, it brought him here, to a companion who could share with him her great joy. And in return, what did he have to offer her? Stories of other worlds, of places she'd never know. Or maybe...maybe he had something more to offer her. Maybe the story brought him here for a reason.

Maybe it brought him here to help save her life.

While Nyramyn slept, Revaramek lifted a paw and ever so gently, set it upon her scaled body. He took a few slow, even breaths, and called out to something deep within himself. Was his spark still there? He imagined himself grasping at his own heart, calling out to it, asking for its help. There was warmth in there, a faint response somewhere in the distance. Maybe it was all he had left, or maybe it just wouldn't reply to him short of his life being in danger.

It didn't matter. He had to try. Revaramek imagined that warmth running from his heart, through his chest, and up his foreleg. He thought of it pouring into Nyramyn, a soothing balm for her soul, for her slumbering mind. A cleansing filter for her body. Warmth crept through his blood. Or was it all in his mind? Either way, he called to his spark, and thought the words that he so desperately might save her life.

Nyramyn.

Was.

Not.

Poisoned.

Nyramyn stirred, murmured, and pressed to his warmth. Outside, the breeze shifted, the air trembled. There was no other reaction from the world nor from Nyramyn, but somehow, Revaramek thought it worked. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he'd keep trying it just the same. He promised himself to make it a ritual he would repeat every night, for as long as they were together. Revaramek curled around her, lay his head next to hers, and closed his eyes. Before long, Nyramyn's soft breathing was lulling him to sleep.

His last thoughts for the night were of happiness, glad to try and make a difference in such a beautiful life.