FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter 34

A loud burp echoed across the sky, the tip of the mountain range from which it came from made it sound like havoc wrecking thunder cracking across the sky.

"You're a pig" a low disgruntled voice vibrated with an echo similar to the noise of a thousand beating bat wings

Ignus bottomed the wine flask, gulping down the last remains of the red liquid in a single, deep swallow before he hurled the bottle inside the darkness of the cave from which the condescending voice came from.

"Be silent!" he yelled, his voice ringing with the noise of the breaking bottle

Red head bumped against the entrance to the cave, bony plates grinding across the stone, sending small parks in the air when the body of the red dragon slumped down onto the cold, mountain floor.

"Nobody cares about the opinion of a psycho!" a hiccup squeezed his throat, paw automatically felt the ground in search for another bottle

Claws clicked against the glass, finding the neck of a bottle with ease, instinctively knowing where to look. The toes gripped the bottle so tightly that the glass whimpered under pressure, red paw clenching the object so desperately as if it would be the last straw holding death at bay.

"Naturally, a pitiful drunk is a more reliable source of opinion"

With a growl Ignus threw another empty bottle inside the cave, it broke apart on the wall at the end of it, some of the shard cutting scale too instead of rock only. He winced, the ringing noise made the headache that was already wrecking havoc inside his skull to burst with more force, to the point he could feel his brain sizzling through his ear holes.

"You know shit" with a grimace of disgust Ignus uncorked the bottle and drank half of the wine with a single chug

The headache lessened its grip, but he knew that the relief was only a delusion a small break during a torture session for your jailer to stretch out his taxed muscles.

He looked at the mountain floor pleadingly, the world already struggled to keep all the shapes and colors intact with the movement of his head. He tried to judge if the remaining alcohol would be enough to silence the pain, but no matter how hard he looked and no matter how many filled up bottles he still saw, deep down he knew that there was no amount of booze that can silence his conscience.

The wine too much reminded him of blood.

Years taught him to get used to it, to drink the brew he prepared for himself, always refusing the ideas or offers of switching the alcohol for some other type, made from ingredients that aren't red in color.

He never was able to swallow it.

He hated the taste of the red wine, but it was his brew and no matter how he would try to convince himself otherwise, there was always something pulling him back. And though he held strong to the strings of Fate, this struggle was not ruled by the same set of behaviors.

In that battle of conscience he was his own enemy. There were no strings he could tug at in that fight.

He took another swig, the gulp resounding loudly across the empty space of the mountain, it was a familiar rhythm, one that he heard many times over and will hear until he draws his last breath.

What did you do?

His entire body shivered, the now empty bottle rattled in his shaking paw, his toes numbed by a cramp seconds later, the glassy neck slipped from his grasp, the bottle clanked and whimpered as it rolled down the mountain floor.

"I wasn't wrong to believe you're worthless"

"Remember boy that you don't need your tongue to be useful. So I advise you stop wagging it" Ignus reached for another bottle, noticing sadly that it was his last one

How many did he emptied? Five? Seven?

Not enough though.

It's never enough.

"You wouldn't dare to act without permission. You're a slave to a fool. A broken tool held together by spit only. You two are worthy of each other"

Ignus saluted the dragon by lifting his last bottle.

"There were many who spoke exactly like you boy" he took a swig "They're dead now while I'm old and alive. I won"

"You should reconsider your priorities. Becoming a bitter drunk is hardly a triumph"

The red drake gazed into the darkness of the cave, he breathed a stream of fire at the ceiling, it spread like a web across the stone, creating pulsing veins of fire that processed the heated energy with the determination of veins pumping blood across a body during physical stress. The light revealed a tied up, malachite dragon.

Capro despite his taunting tongue didn't look fit, his powerful muscles lost their shine, stripping the drake of his intimidating aura of strength. His body looked tired, in need of a regenerative break which hardly could be achieved when being bound and prisoner with no regular nutrition.

Ignus smiled, greatly enjoying the sight.

"It is more precious than failing and becoming a defenseless prisoner"

"So long as I breathe I didn't fail. I've lost, yes, but I still can accomplish my mission. Can you say the same?"

The smile disappeared from the red snout.

Mission.

He remembered he had one before, but right now? With the time travel, new faces and new home?

Was it all worth nothing in the end?

Did he fail?

And what's more important, did he still have perspective to finish what he started

And if he could, was there any point of pursuing it?

He didn't know what was better, to accept failure, accept the fact that the strings he held, believing to be the ones belonging to Fate were just long strands of a coat from a rotting carcass. Or to say that all the planning, all the decisions, everything he ever committed himself to and sacrificed in the name of it meant nothing?

Accept that all the ruination had no hope of being revitalized.

Was there really any sense to worry about the past and their pursuers in this world that could be held back by the Veils? Protected by a purple dragon no less?

He swore that he will never allow himself to be passive, never invite idleness into his life again, that he will be cautious and avoid making the same mistakes, always prepared to face the enemy that will undoubtedly come.

But never before there was a purple dragon standing between him and his foes. With Spyro in the way history might never repeat itself, he was the master of the portals, he simply can keep the inevitable destruction behind closed doors.

It was so ironically easy.

Did all this death could really amount to nothing?

"I hope you scratch your brains out"

Ignus' eyes widened in bewilderment, the words that reached him confused him greatly, they absolutely made no sense. Hell, he didn't even know why he got so emotional about some stupid taunt.

Get a hold of yourself you dumb, old fool.

His body jerked and just when he was about to retort he felt it.

The ugly, dreadful tick.

His paw was scratching the back of his bony plates.

Fucking canines.

Fucking plans.

"My aspirations are of no concern of yours. You're irrelevant boy" Ignus snapped at the tied dragon, his lips curling up so strongly that it threatened to crack his scales

"So irrelevant that I'm being kept hogtied with you having no say in my Fate. Meekly awaiting the Fake's decision"

The claws of the red paw clenched the neck of the last bottle so tightly that cracks started giving birth on the glass. His head throbbed beyond any control, the pain was so strong that he started to see pictures from the past, hearing voices that he silenced a long time ago.

Back in the days they also believed he had no influence.

He rubbed the stump where his horn was once, it burned, as if he would be touching a hot coal,

This scar on his draconic dignity was all the evidence he needed to say otherwise. This sacrifice was dictated by his personal logic, no one was there whispering what he should or not do.

And when he finally decided even the most powerful couldn't protect themselves from his subtle touch.

Ignus' clench relaxed, he only gave the captured dragon a faint smile before pulling his gaze away from the throat of the cave. The boy was blind just as his captor, like they all were back in the days. He leaned his head against the wall of the cave, releasing a shaking exhale, each whizz provoking the throbbing headache to stab his senses harder.

He winced in pain.

It didn't matter, he knew what it all meant.

Watch out Danox, you spawn from the deepest nightmarish pits, your narcissistic ways will be your downfall. Powerful creatures underestimated him before and now they're gone and all he needed to make it happen was to find a leverage.

And you fool served it yourself on a silver platter, without realizing his expertise in the matter.

The bottle whimpered in his grasp, his heart skipped a beat, the whine sounding like a girl's cry. A familiar cry.

He swallowed, rising the bottle and gazing through the glass at the half empty swirling contents inside, the mere sight of it made his tongue flicker, stingy taste of blood sprinkling on his palette.

Nothing else was important anymore besides the guilt ridden throb in his heart.

"What did you do?" he whispered, the breath was so quiet and serene that it could be easily taken for his dying one

He could see the reflection of the young cleric shimmering in the glass, a young girl with innocent eyes, with a shy charisma covering behind the inexperience and naivety of youth. A reckoning force worth cherishing, a cage for more than one heart.

He loved a girl like that once.

She was all gone now.

And with her vanished her suitors.

The headache was the moment where he was being reminded of that.

Idols.

He had a way of tarnishing those.

They say that with age comes wisdom, that you learn from your mistakes, reach a point in your life where you eventually realize that it is time to stop.

It was a lie.

Or at least for his bloodline. His bloodline never learns.

Only some details change, but in the end the result is all the same. Someone pays the price for someone else to fall, the only difference being in the taste of the spilled blood. There aren't many of his own heritage left to bleed, so the chances of repeating the same mistakes were slim.

His head pulsed with taunting, painful laughter.

How low have you fallen Ignus to justify your actions.

Mistake is a mistake.

And there is no way for you to change that.

You never learn.

Ignus growled, smashing the top of the bottle to his lips so hard that it made them crack in places, he tilted the wine, swallowing the final half with one chug, metallic taste of his own blood tingled on the tongue.

The taste disturbingly disgusting.

His stomach churned, eyes widening.

He threw the bottle away and immediately twisted his head to throw up, the stream of the still not swallowed wine painted a line across his body. Eyes instantly glistened with tears when the retch pulled at his bowels with the might of a golem, he felt as if the puke would drag all of his intensities with it.

In the blurry, and teary world he could see the face of his niece, smiling, happy and peaceful only to be smashed by a flicker of his own reflection, shifting the lovely face into a horrible caricature of their formers selves like looking through a corrupted reflection of a mirror. Her new face depressed, hateful and crying.

There was always a price to pay.

Capro laughed from the inside of the cave, the crunching noise of the broken bottles that echoed together with him were like the chirping, mocking sounds of a tiny public watching the depressing play unfold before them.

And the horrible truth about society was that nothing is more amusing than bad luck of someone else.

"You're pathetic" the malachite dragon spat on the ground, the disdain in his saliva hissed like acid

Ignus coughed, spitting the last droplets of wine, the surrounding world swirled around him, the nauseating vertigo made his body shivered as his muscles tried to fight against the unfair rules of alcohol riddled gravity.

It wasn't the first vertigo he had to deal with, but it was a long time since he last vomited and between his thoughts and earlier words, this time he had no intention to argue with Capro.

This time he agreed with him completely.

He no longer had the same cold ambition of his younger self, not the same determination, and especially he no longer possessed the free of guilt conscience.

Years never mended that gaping wound and now with Danox and his object of worship in the picture there was no chance for it to heal, the pincers that kept it open melded into his flesh. There was no closing it.

No forgiveness.

No turning back.

It was all too late for that now.

With one final spat Ignus cleared his mouth from all the remaining wine that didn't want to stay in his belly, with that cough came relief, the head stopped tormenting him with its jabbing. Of course life doesn't like void, it has to fill it with something and it his case it was the depressing revelation of his current position.

Could be described by a single word, echo of the opinion he agreed with previously.

Pathetic.

Nevertheless, he wasn't someone to cry over his fate, what's done is done, he might beat himself over it for the rest of his life, but it didn't mean he should simply lay down and wither. He fell from the top of the political food chain to the very bottom, morality included, yes, but the pits of despair open your eyes to one specific perk.

You can't make things worse if you scrape the floor of the universe already.

No matter what he does now he can't make things worse, not for himself at least and when it becomes unbearable there is a special remedy corked inside a bottle that manages to bring him through the sickening pain.

He looked at the pool of vomit with sad eyes.

For some time at least.

With a groan he lifted himself up, it was a nice touch considering the fact that his limbs are the only things he can uplift anymore. There is nothing left to grab by when it comes to his spirit and humor.

It was only a matter of finding that special someone to join him at the bottom, unfortunately to find yourself here you need to be weighted down by corpses of others.

For what it was worth, he did take no pleasure in it.

Looking over someone wasn't his specialty, it could end only in one way.

Ignus trotted towards the mountain's end with a heavy step.

"Oh!" Capro faked excitement "You're leaving already? Where to? To throw up in the bushes perhaps? Nature would sure love your pathetic stench"

"To ease some burden from all of us boy. If you'll live love enough perhaps you will get a chance to appreciate it"

He spread his wings, they opened with difficulty, some additional tear appeared on his ancient membranes, he looked at them sadly. One would say that it was normal for w dragon of his age, but the people didn't know the truth, because if they did they would know just like him that these holes are not only a sign of age, but also the reflection of the pain he caused.

When he squinted, piercing the drunken, swaying veil of the world he could notice the evidence supporting his thoughts.

Small strands of bloodied, white feathers were glued to the edges of the holes.

*

Hunter was sitting on a base of a fountain, in one of the busiest spots in Warfang that served as a joining point for many stairs that spread the city into many more distinctive alleys. People walked by him back and forth, he observed them through the swiveling reflections on the surface of the water.

The glances they threw at him were normal and brief, merely acknowledgment, nobody ever saw what he truly carried in himself. He never wanted to be in the center of attention, but it didn't stop him from imagining the scenario. Hope's words about being different, about no longer being a typical member of this society was like a thorn in his side.

All he ever wanted was to be a part of this community, among dragons and now due to magic he must cast away his childhood dreams? Wasn't the of the elements serve a different purpose? Be true to its name? Be magical, and magical sounded better.

"You know, for what's it worth I'm sorry for causing you such a headache, I thought you'll be happy truth be told" the image of Hope appeared on the water's surface, she was leaning against a tree, sitting on the ground with knees in the front and arms locked around them, her head lying tilted on this mountain of embrace

"It's not your fault" Hunter dipped his claw into the water, channeling his new found energy into the tip just like Hope taught him near the lake.

A yellow, weak flash flickered below the water's surface, to the surrounding people it seemed like it would be a sun's ray bouncing of a small wave, but to him it was like a peek into the world's core to which he now possessed a key.

Power of the Ancestors in his grasp, the magical soul of the world itself that saved so many lives.

"The gift you bestowed me with cleansed the city of Darkness and spared many innocent lives from falling victim to its machinations"

Hope chuckled.

"It's nice and all but there is a reason why I'm alone and prefer the company of animals"

"You have no interest in the well being of masses"

He saw her rising her hand with smile, pumping it slightly as if she wanted to boop his nose.

Hunter scratched the tip of his nostrils that suddenly began to itch, whether was it really her touch or he himself projecting the contact he will never know.

"Bingo my handsome savior. It's great that folks are alive and all that and Void got its ass kicked naturally, but you're my drug. I want to see you happy and smiling, I promised you fun but you gotta work with me a little Hunter"

Hunter scooped the water, taking a small sip.

"With passage of time it will change I believe. It's a lot to take in"

"You're stressed then?"

"Perhaps to a degree"

Hope's eyes flashed blue, a seductive grin spread her mouth.

"That's great, because I have the tools to make it all go away" she pulled at the neck of her tight shirt while tilting her head back, exposing the full length on her slender neck that was stretched out by falling gulp of saliva which at the end pushed out the frame of her pressed breasts

Hunter stole a prolonged glance at the passionate image lingering on the bode of water, it was impossible not to stare, it was the power of females given by Nature for them to trap their prey with their grace.

But there was still a thick line between willingness and instinct.

"Your assistance won't be necessary" with a blink he averted his gaze from the seductive pool

"You sure?" she played with the top of her shirt, making one of the arms slide down her shoulder "My girls work great as boob pillow, it's a proven fact, not my words, seriously"

"I believe you but I must decline nevertheless"

"You know what Hunter?" she pulled her shirt back on, claw scratching the chin thoughtfully "You're ruining my confidence you know that? Would you stop if I said that it hurts my feelings?"

"I would not, because I know that you enjoy it despite my reserve"

Hope laughed, giving her raven mane a cheerful blow.

"I've told you we'll become buddies! You know me so well already! And since we're friends I gotta ask, do you have a mate you keep secret from me?"

"It's a very personal inquiry"

"That's a no then" feline ears twitched as if they would be hearing conspicuous whispers "Which is weird. Don't get me wrong I kinda like your stiffness and plan to put it to good use when we finally start playing if you know what I mean" she wiggled her eyebrows

Hunter sighed deeply.

"I know how to wrap dudes around my fingers, got all that's needed right here" he saw Hope squeezing her thigh "Those that don't fall for it immediately usually have someone they care about, a mate for instance, a bummer really but understandable. There are also those however, and since we're friends you MUST tell me who it is, that live in a romantic fantasy, moaning and groaning about someone they saw and deep down in their hearts already planning to start a little herd with them"

Hunter froze, the suspicion of his new found friend striking a chord in his soul he never expected to feel right now, not when all those people ignored him and continued with their daily lives.

Fear.

He straightened up, supporting the raise with the hand that was in the water just a moment ago. To his surprise though his palm found to solid grip, his hand slipped, the sudden jerk of gravity making his body tilt forwards into the fountain, the only thing saving him from completely falling inside was his reflex.

The arm that slipped almost immediately reached down into the depths of the fountain, propping him up, being dipped into the water practically to the shoulder.

Citizens of Warfang finally paid him some mind, the unexpected commotion drawing their attention to the cheetah.

This time it was him that was not interested in them, quickly pulling himself up Hunter squeezed the drenched sleeve, getting rid of water from both fur and cloth, the falling droplets rippling the already uneasy water.

Amidst them he saw the grinning face of Hope, her eyes burning brightly, matching the color of her glowing tiara. The chilly illumination cast an ominous shadow on her fangs, making her look like a starving demon.

"You're saving yourself, how very...dull" she giggled

"I don't know what you're talking about" Hunter quickly dismissed the ridiculous idea

"Really? And that water dance of yours? Prey tell what was it"

"An accident, nothing to speak about"

"Sure, but we're talking about you, you're more stiffer than the roots of a tree, slips like that don't happen to you"

"You're looking for sensation where there is none to be found. I'm sorry my lady, but I'm just a cat who lost his balance"

The grin that stretched her mouth grew wider ever so slightly.

"That I don't doubt, I just wonder what is the name of the one that makes you lose it, maybe she could give me some tips?"

"Hope, please, just let it go. There is nothing to tell"

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily" he saw her leaning back against the tree, arms wrapped behind the head which she threw back to look thoughtfully towards the sky

"Who is it? A cheetah? I don't think so, I've been flashing my tits in front of you and all you did is to stare a little. If we wouldn't spend some time together already I would bet my tiara you fallen for some sweet dragoness, your fascination with them is bordering on molestation, but I still didn't see one scaly chick you hang out with that was romantically interested in you. I can read signs when it happens, it's innocent, but a little flirty joke here and there makes it more memorable than an lustful glare, you had to speak with the girl of your dreams at some point"

Her eyes widened.

"Is it a mole girl? You keep running around the jungles all the time, always repairing and replacing equipment, was there some pretty miner or smith you found fancy?"

Hunter rubbed his forehead.

"I really don't want to participate in this conversation"

Hope sprang up on her feet, clapping her hands excitedly.

"A mole it is then! You smug bastard you!"

"There are more important things to think about right now than my romantic life, which you made up in all honesty. It is distracting and we need focus right now, especially after you unveiled the mysteries of the universe and bestowed me with your gift. I'm still amazed how can you be so... relaxed about it all"

"Hey, stress sucks, I'm still here to provide the distraction we both need but you steer clear from my ass whenever I offer it and worry kinda irritates me. I prefer to be cheerful and carefree, feel only Nature on my fur and not all this worldly troubles, had enough of those. I have an itch I need to scratch and since you're not here to help me out I need to do it myself and what's better to get your mind away from worry than a little gossip!"

Hunter smiled weakly.

"We have different views on what little means"

Hope laughed.

"Obviously. But with time you're going to see the world from my perspective and the things you'll find little will be skyscraping mountains for everyone else"

He swallowed, brows frowning, the last words Hope spoke were of humoristic nature, yet to him there was nothing to smile about to be found there. All his life he was an invisible scout, of course there was a time where he aspired to be the Chief of his tribe, but the ambition of his younger self was nothing more than childhood dream. He found his place among the trees and bushes, hidden away from the more worthy of this world.

But this magic, this magic can change everything.

It already did, he was one of the Blessed and the Guardians know that already, he didn't want to but he feared that the life he led until now was about to change.

How ironic.

He so long dreamt of wielding magic, always thinking that he would do great things with it and now when he finally has the power he is terrified of showing it.

His eyes turned towards the water once more, this time he saw no one else there but his own gloom expression.

The reflection wasn't happy to see him.

"Hunter!"

He balked at the sound of the experienced with life voice, the cheerful warmth radiating from it made him shiver. As he pulled his sight away from the fountain he spotted Hope tilting her head thoughtfully.

"Hello Amela"

Hunter greeted the healer with a welcoming smile, even if small. Her sight surprised him, not because he didn't expect the main healer doing rounds around the city, it surprised him because it was probably the first time he saw Amela without her healer's garb. She was dressed as a typical female of her age, having nothing that would make her stand out from the crowd.

He couldn't tell why, but the sight of her being dressed casually washed a strong wave of relief and security over him.

"You look troubled dear, if my eyes would work the way they did when I was young I would say that you even aged a little. Is everything alright? I must say I didn't expect to see you contemplating in the open like this, you were always a loner. Is everything all right?"

"It's nothing" Hunter forced himself to smile, eyes landing on the healer's arms, in each hand she was holding a stuffed bag "Do you need any help with it?"

"Oh, this?" she shrugged, her shoulders rising without effort "There's no need, it's medicine I traded several dragon scales for all sorts of necessary ingredients, my patients don't need them anymore but the ingenious craftsman surely do. When it comes to medicine dear I could have bags strapped to each of my limb and I still wouldn't feel tired" she smiled warmly "My knees however seem to disagree with me when I sit down later, but we always come to some sort of a compromise"

Hunter acknowledged her words with a nod, hand scratching over his chest, claws clicking against the melded with his flesh symbol under the clothing.

"You want me to take another look at that wound? Is it bothering you?"

To Amela's surprise Hunter blurted out a chuckle.

Bothering? This is putting it mildly.

He saw Hope flashing before his eyes, she was pouting her lips, finger waving in a scolding manner.

"It itches a little sometimes, thank you for the offer, but it is not an issue, simply another stimulation my scout's heart has to get used to"

The healer sighed.

"You see Hunter, my patients are like children to me, I always watch and listen to them and in majority of cases I can tell when they are holding information from me"

The scout's eyes flattened on his skull.

"There are some conditions that make me especially sensible towards you, I can easily tell that something is bothering you and you are dismissing me. I understand, your affairs are your own, BUT" she cleared her throat, putting commanding emphasis on the word "When these affairs put at risk the health of my children it is no longer private matter in my eyes. So Hunter tell me, are your problems private?"

Hunter swallowed deeply, cold shiver running through his spine all the way to the tip of the tail, making it freeze in midair during a swing. He was pressed to the wall in his life before, but never he felt so defenseless, Amela has read him like a book and no matter what he says now he simply knew that he won't fool her.

He always had a feeling that the healer knew him.

He expected that perhaps Hope will whisper some advice, that maybe she wouldn't like people to know about her relationship with him, but to his surprise the medallion he was wearing suddenly stopped emitting its warm touch. If he wouldn't know better, he would say that the symbol returned to its normal self, becoming only a simple charm.

The image of the Ancestor hadn't even flashed before his eyes anymore.

She vanished, leaving him alone to deal with the matter.

DODAC DO NOTATEK OD HE EXPECTED DO MATTER. TUTAJ HOPE SCHOWALA SIE PRSED AMELA BO WIEDZIALA ZE HUNTER SIE WYGADA A ONA CHCE BY CALA TA MAGIA KTORA WLADA HUNTER BYLA KOJARZONA TYLKO Z NIM

"They are not" he admitted with a shaking voice "However I cannot tell you more, I'm sorry"

Amela stood in front of him without speaking a word, the brief glances he mustered to throw at her weren't a match for her resolve, he couldn't read absolutely anything from her face.

Eventually the healer made a forward step, she put her bags down and sat next to the troubled scout.

"You know what life taught this old cheetah? That no matter how strong your motivations can be, how much faith you have and what you believe in, you won't be able to cope with the world's troubles alone. Hope can only do so much"

Hunter balked, his hand automatically reaching towards his chest, heart skipped a beat, for some reason he felt an immense sense of dread embracing him.

And an unexplainable feeling of abandonment, despite having a literal Ancestor burned into his flesh.

Hope can only do so much.

Perhaps it was uncalled for, but he couldn't help himself but fear that he was trying to grab a Fate that is too slippery for him to hold on to. Amela of course didn't know that the Hope she speaks of is a breathing, living creature, that he wasn't alone in his struggles and yet despite it all he couldn't completely ignore the healer's words.

Just like always he couldn't say why is that, he simply felt that she was genuinely trying to help, as if her advice would assist his life decisions once already.

Like a trained habit.

"The years I spent working in the hospital showed me that you can't do difficult things on your own, facing the new and unknown is bound to make you fail. You can't avoid it and it is much easier to keep standing with the help of others than fall down and get up later. Hope might be with you, yes, but it is an otherworldly force nevertheless" she looked at her bags, full of medicine and even though she was in a dragon city there wasn't a single Spirit Gem glittering inside "The biggest help comes from those we truly understand, trust Hunter can overcome every burden and we mortal creatures are made in such a way that we can form trust with the ones we can relate to"

Amela tapped a claw against her chest.

"The Hope you're relying on, while precious, is a force working in its own mysterious ways. Ancestral symbols are valuable, but we cannot put our entire Faith into them, they have a tendency to disappoint"

"You're berating symbolism? This isn't a very popular opinion among cheetahs, my teacher always gave me a hard time when I mentioned it"

"When we're younger we approach life with more passion than it is necessary. Teachers aren't immune to that influence, this doesn't mean the wisdom is useless, it simply lacked polishing"

She rubbed the scout's shoulder.

"Remember Hunter that true understanding you'll find in those you can relate to. Try and perhaps whatever is troubling you won't be so heavy anymore"

Hunter swallowed, tongue itching to spill out everything, he knew it would change his life forever but Amela had a certain, specific influence on him he couldn't resist. The only thing that kept him from opening up and betraying Hope was his sense of loyalty and perhaps a little arrogant notion of being capable to deal with it all now when he possessed magic.

And truth be told, he doubted he would have the strength to discard his newfound essence, he finally wielded magic, the child in his soul would never allow to give up on it so easily.

"Just look how a little, palpable trust can make our lives easier"

Amela nodded ahead.

His eyes followed her directions, falling on a pair of dragons ahead that immediately drew attention, at least one of them did.

Coriza and Cloudas were walking side by side in broad daylight, the priestess' white robe was almost blinding, perfectly ironed, the golden braiding breathtaking, each shimmering with the strength of its own personal sun. Her step graceful and slow, as if she would be putting all of the concentration into her claws to make sure that they touch the ground the way they should, even her tail was comically stiff. She was trying to look confident, but his observant eye noticed that it takes a lot of effort from her side to maintain this image of seriousness, stiff muscles and tail were one thing, but the practiced eye also noticed the shivers running through her wing membranes and snout scales, the wings especially looked as if they wanted to just open and fly away from here.

Cloudas, the new arrival was more confident than the priestess who lived in Warfang for most of her life. In fact he displayed the aura he got to know him best, rudeness and ignorance. He was constantly looking around, his feathers rustled, acting like the city, the pace of their walk, basically everything was against him, irritating him beyond any reasonable degree.

A clear example of mistrust of someone who couldn't see equality in anyone.

His ears flattened, wondering if he wasn't taking the same path by keeping secrets.

The wind dragon didn't seem to be happy being outside and in the center of attention, still he got out and considering the general excitement of the populace about seeing an alive wind dragon he was getting the better side of the risk. People didn't flock to him, majority of them turned their heads, yes, but the usual zealous population of Warfang maintained respectable distance, those that approached behaved with grace accepted by general public, exchanging polite words of greetings and praise.

He reached for his medallion, remembering the times where it wasn't inhabited by Ancestral Spirits, where all he had was faith. In that regard his teacher was right and that little thing didn't change even after so many years.

Faith coupled with determination is as strong as any magic.

Eventually a small group of people blocked their sight of the duo just to clear the way moments later, when they did the eyes of the two dragons were directed straight at them.

With a wide smile Amela waved at the both dragons.

"Good day. May Ancestors guide you" Coriza smiled, her lips pressed together, keeping the teeth hidden behind

"Good day Sweetheart! You look lovely Dear!"

"Ancestors guide you" Hunter greeted the duo with a polite nod, he couldn't help himself but to throw a rather prolonged glance at the cleric

Something changed about her.

Last time he really paid any attention to her was before and after the Corruption that fell over Warfang, back then she was a shy, fragile girl who barely had enough confidence to stand straight with no intention to change her plight.

Now it was different.

He knew what good taste is when it comes to social interactions, staring was considered rude, yet he couldn't muster enough strength to pry his eyes off her draconic face. Her hair was nicely groomed, ideally straight hair flopped down her blue snout, strands of white and blue obscuring one of her eyes, held together by a gold hair pin that matched the embroidery on her robes.

The one visible was shaded deep black, the dark hue around the eyeball made the gold pupil inside glow with the force of the sun, a shimmering constellation of stars on the canvas of a night sky and he simply couldn't move his eyes away.

This was not the same cleric he once knew.

She was aware of her flaws, she was still shy and her body language betrayed her insecurity, but that visible eye, that mysterious and attention catching style, the pristine robe, it all spoke of potential. There was something about the priestess that caught you by the heart, the pull wasn't strong, but it was there, like a fresh root of a tree wrapping itself around the soil of the earth.

And the metaphor wasn't a spin of coincidence either, a hint of something familiar was in that pull, as welcoming as a morning dew breeze.

Welcoming as Nature.

"Those Ancestors of yours must be quite busy with all the guiding, I sure didn't feel anything yet so maybe give the dudes a break?" Cloudas grumbled

"Cloudas, please, this is uncalled for" Coriza pleaded the drake

"I see you're enjoying your new reality with the same vigor as in times of trouble my friend" Hunter noted

"Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed" Amela chirped

Coriza blushed unexpectedly, dropping her head and pulling at her groomed strands, gaining those little millimeters of more cover.

"It's typical for our friend, nothing to worry about" the scout smiled

"Nevertheless I'm glad that you listened to my advice Sweetheart, sometimes good attitude works better than the best medicine. Luckily happiness is contagious so I don't have to worry about you dear" the healer winked at Cloudas

"Cloudas is under a lot of stress, our walk is rather eventful, alas not as troublesome as we both expected. When we met he had a lot of... excited fans to put it lightly, people simply need to get used to the sight of a wind dragon, hence we're here"

"Before you guys get any ideas, this is part of a deal, nothing else"

"Deal?" Amela cocked her head curiously

"Yes" Coriza nodded "After the events we all rather forget about people's trust in the Ancestors waned. Faith as we know it took a tremendous blow where I fear that many of us forgot that it is there to serve good, not evil. I see in the eyes of the people that they sadly associate Faith with bad experiences, I can't blame them for that, but I hope that the two of us can change that"

"I don't think it would be possible to make people approach me without Cloudas by my side, the wounds are still too fresh, without him I wouldn't be able to explain that it was the Ancestors intervention that saved us. Our plan worked, to some degree, people approached us yet in smaller numbers than I expected" her gold eye turned to the wind dragon gratefully "I can't complain however, at least the acclimatization process goes smoothly for Cloudas"

"Folks still pull my feathers, but I suppose it ain't that bad. I mean ten of them didn't take as much as you did"

Coriza blushed.

"It wasn't that much"

"You took an entire tuft from my shoulder!" he shoved the mentioned leg in front of her nose "Look how naked I am!"

"I apologize"

"I'm sure it wasn't done on purpose" Amela interjected in the girl's defense

Cloudas looked genuinely surprised at the harsh response, but as he scanned both cheetahs he realized that they couldn't possibly know that he spent with Coriza an entire night and even slept at her place so they got to know each other a little better, they couldn't possibly understand that he wasn't serious.

He wouldn't really bother explaining himself if not for Amela, the healer patched him up and is essentially the only one who didn't want to pull him apart the moment she saw him. She was a tad overprotective, but it was better to stay on her good side nevertheless, with the Shapers around he will definitely need more stitches in the future and it would be nice having someone not tugging at his feathers to satisfy his own curiosity.

"It was a joke people" Cloudas shook his head "Coriza saved me from being trampled down last night and believe me when I say that I'm tired of making favorable deals, they don't work so this is my way of repaying her. I knew the risk, we spoke about it, it's fine, in return I get to help her learn to walk again. I'm like the perfect crutch with all those tufts, they are easily to hold on to and besides Coriza is still gentler when she shreds me than the other folk would be I'm sure" he gave the old cheetah a respectful bow "Don't worry Miss, everything is agreed upon, I was only joking, I don't mind losing my feathers to Coriza"

Amela's eyes shone with pride.

"That's commendable, I apologize for judging so rashly, it's a habit I can't get rid of, especially when well-being is involved. Still, what do you mean by learning to walk again?"

"I decided to put the eye patch away" Coriza admitted with a shaking voice

"Dear, that's too early, you should not risk the wound getting infected, magical or not it was still glass that cut your eye"

"I know, but my heart wouldn't let me do it. Faith is wounded already and if people would notice a cleric wearing an eye patch like a pirate the impressions they had about being lied to would only grow stronger. I was willing to take the stress on my limbs to show people that in the core faith is pure and unfortunately we are simple creatures, buying reality with our eyes. I wouldn't be able to do it on my own but Cloudas proved to be a reliable companion" she pet the shoulder she wounded tenderly, hoping that her touch would make the sting go away

Whether it was working or not she couldn't tell, the shoulder showed no signs of appreciation, perhaps having your feathers torn apart wasn't such frivolity as Cloudas, yet he didn't flinch nevertheless and that was all the reassurance she needed really.

"We also broaden our knowledge of the world. I share the stories and history of our current timeline while in return I learn bits and pieces about the life of a wind dragon, knowledge I kept at a distance in my younger days. It is a satisfying agreement for both sides"

Amela clapped her hands together, grinning, for a second there she looked like a young girl again.

"This is wonderful, it is always so heartwarming to see our citizens bonding. Only mutual trust can get us through the worst ordeals"

Hunter fidgeted in his seat, the marble pedestal of the fountain turning surprisingly very uncomfortable. Without him realizing it his hand was back on the chest, gripping the symbol under the clothes. Listening to all three of them made him feel strangely out of place, trapped somewhere between relief and dread.

He was glad to know that the cleric was aware of the pollution growing among the populace, hate towards Darkness and Cynder was nothing new, but he feared that bringing it up would only alienate the populace further and thrust another needle in the Guardians objectiveness. It was good to see Coriza committing herself to it, she was more suited to this particular job than he would ever be, he wasn't so good with people anyway, years of being alone in the woods do that to you.

That was the relief part, while worthy it wasn't strong enough to pull his heart completely over to its side.

There was still dread.

Amela spoke about companionship and trust, two things that are essentially the base of every fairy tale while real life has a lots of grey spots in between. But then Coriza and Cloudas show up, two creatures from entirely different worlds, metaphorically and literally and they strike an agreement that benefits both, makes them learn from one another.

Building trust.

One creature with the possibility to relate to another, it didn't matter they were both dragons, it goes beyond that. They connected because in the end they both were made of flesh and bone and simply treated each other with respect, both having limitations when it came to the surrounding reality and what the future can bring.

Basic social interaction where you get to know each other by satisfying the needs of the other.

They could do that because they were mortal and essentially lived by the same rules.

How can he relate to an Ancestor that wields wisdom and knowledge far exceeding the present?

And since bonding requires the effort of both, where one satisfies the needs of the other, how can he progress in that regard when in the end he was the only one bestowed with additional strength and powers? His own satisfaction was fed while Hope got nothing from him.

What does Hope want?

Or was he naïve to believe that a godly figure thinks in the same terms as mortals do?

This was the dread part, also not strong enough to pull him over completely, both those feelings left him trapped in between where he no longer could tell what is the right course of direction.

He sighed looking for answers in the sky above, as expected it was only a wishful thinking to do so, there was nothing there, yet his eyes caught something heading their way. A big, red dragon with tethered wings.

Dread stung a little harder when he realized who he was.

"Good day cleric!" Ignus greeted the priestess cheerfully, though his battered with age and war body wasn't a symbol of grace the dragon still landed on the ground effortlessly as if gliding down a cloud

His joyful expression faltered when he scanned the people surrounding the priestess, the wrinkle however quickly relaxed, vanishing as swiftly as that accompanying a sneeze.

"Good day to the rest of you as well" he bowed respectfully

"Hello!" Coriza's eyes sparkled "It's a pleasure to see you too and if I may be so bold allow me to give my deepest gratitude. Ancestors must be guiding you truly because the advice you gave me bore fruit not so long after" she moved closer to Cloudas, her robbed scales hugging him like precious treasure "Thank you from the bottom of my heart"

Ignus chuckled.

"I appreciate your words, but this old dragon did nothing spectacular, you knew what you wanted from the beginning, all you needed was simply a pointer in the right direction"

It was far more than that, but she wasn't the one to argue her rights.

"Sometimes a little sign is all that motivates us to action. I've learned that faith can be a powerful driving force even though we hardly feel its support physically"

"Be it as it may young cleric, this doesn't change the fact that this old heart beats faster knowing that a young soul found happiness. It's all I ever want, you younglings are our future"

"Hey aren't you that guy that girl...what was her name...Iris!" Cloudas bobbed his head, individually congratulating himself, praising his quick thinking "Yeah, you're her uncle, between the shouts and curses she sometimes hissed your name, I dunno if this is the future anybody wants. But then again, that girl is a few cards short of a full deck if you know what I mean"

"Cloudas" Coriza gently poked him, feeling ashamed

"Oh right...umm...no offense of course"

The priestess shook her head sadly.

"What? It's the truth, you said you liked honesty"

"While honesty is praise worthy, the accepted social etiquette demands that harsh truth should remain hidden behind veil of silence when not provoked. Words my dear boy can hurt worse than a stab wound. This world is brimming with magic but unfortunately no one yet found a cure that could heal the soul" Amela reprimanded the young drake, her voice was soft and warm, but the clear lecturing tone was hard to miss even for someone as Cloudas who didn't really pay much attention to the social position of the people around him

Ignus looked genuinely hurt.

"I admit that I've made mistakes, but I tried my best, unfortunately I never had children of my own, the responsibility of raising my niece was a strenuous mission. I just hope you will never have to experience my slice of life and prove that it could be done better"

"Forgive Cloudas, I'm certain he didn't mean anything by it, he's a rather... blunt observer of reality"

"I've said no offense!" the wind drake protested, noting his right in this whole argument

"No matter" the old drake dismissed everything with a wave of his paw "My body has enough scars that a stab here and there won't make a difference anymore. Besides seeing you happy cleric, it beats any displeasure these old bones might experience, as meager as my influence was in this it still makes me proud. After all, after the assault, helping each other should be our top priority, luckily I'm quite the perceptive observer if I might say so myself, spending moons watching over Danox honed my skills, it makes it easier to tell if someone is troubled. I know how hard it is to cope with loss after a fierce battle and I simply can't stand seeing youngsters like you dealing with such a burden. I'm glad my sight is keen enough still to see familiar black clouds gathering above someone's head"

"You're watching over Danox?" Coriza's hair stood on end in held back excitement

"Yes, Fate decided that the black dragon, me and Iris arrived in Warfang almost at the same time. Knowing your people's history with black dragons I volunteered to watch over our ominous arrival as thanks to the Guardians for accepting us. Why do you ask? Are you close?"

Coriza pulled at her strands, she seemed embarrassed and troubled, yet this time no blush covered her cheeks. She seemed genuinely shocked like someone who just woke up with amnesia, with no idea who she was anymore.

"No, no, we met during the attack and that's it. But..."

"He leaves an impression and you as a cleric have doubts, I perfectly understand. If you find the time I can share all my insight, we can always talk priestess" the small flame on the dragon's tail twinkled lively "Assisting is part of my nature"

Hunter sat silently among the group, while they exchanged banters both friendly and otherwise, he quietly observed them, absorbing each word.

Thinking about trust.

It took him back to the time when he met Iris for the first time, how she dragged him out for a search for her uncle. How she prepared to meet him when they finally got there, she tried to look her best part, royal and breathtaking.

But shouldn't trust not care about appearances? When you form the bond of trust all your flaws and insecurities become irrelevant in the face of mutual respect.

Especially when it runs in the family.

Still, Iris wasn't the most reliable source on which you should be building words definitions. He still remembers how she tried to kill him when he led her where she wanted.

And then Ignus stepped in his protection.

A spiral of contradictions.

He could only hope that he would never walk down the path of assistance Ignus did.

If this was part of any nature than this is the piece he never wanted to have nothing in common with.

Problem was that he believed that Ignus did neither.

He looked at his fingertips, faint, yellow light danced just above the strands of his fur.

Responsibility.

There was no other cheetah like him out there in the world, each of his fingertips felt like a path to take, he had multiple ways of choosing how to proceed. Spill it all out or remain silent were only the two of the choices, the most extreme, between them were surely several more, he didn't know exactly what it was, but life taught him that it isn't black and white.

Responsibility, trust, decisions, one influences the other, working together like a train does with its wagons. Sounded nice.

But the longer he observed the old fire dragon the more he remembered the drake's rivalry with his niece and Iris' broken spirit. Ignus was steering his own train and while he didn't think the dragon crashed it, he couldn't shake off the feeling that trail it left was rotten.

A consequence of a bad decision.

His eyes landed on the dancing lights on his palm again, each flicker inviting like a will-o-wisp floating above the swamps in the darkness of the night. A little glimmer of a probable pathway.

But they lead through a swamp, a place where a bad decision was unavoidable.

The only question remained is just how much of a rotten trail he will leave behind.