Council of Wyrms

Chyta harldy listens to Orbak, knowing full well that he has as much of an idea as her. It feels like the should know it, like it's tucked away in her brain just out of reach. The writing of old had always been cryptic and flowery to her. She had been a warrior in her youth, not a scholar.

She looks back at the human more carefully this time, what was its name? Vanara? "Well, we have our seventh son of man right here, though I could have sworn this one was a female. Perhaps I won't eat it, for now."
 
"She did say she was a wo-" He pauses for a bit, looking at Chyta, "Please don't eat her. She's nice." Of course, Orbak's like of humans was fairly well-known. He had always wanted to meet one, and he'd hate for the first one he met to be eaten by someone. He looks back at the slab, sighing and shaking his head. "Five is the number to break the seal, though not all five will see the end... That last part almost seems like a threat, doesn't it?"

"I think we're going to have to wait for others to get here. I'll be the first to admit my Ancient Draconic's not perfect, and all I have to do all day is sit around in my ruin and read." The young dragon shrugs, offering a bit of a chuckle. Most of what he read was silly little human fairy tales, which appears to have tainted his personality just a little. "If I was better with magic, I'd attempt a divination... but my specialty has always been abjurations. Defensive magic. I don't think I'd be able to handle a divination even if I knew any beyond telling if something is magic or not."
 
Vanessa listens completely confused. "Who? What? Where? When? How?"
 
Chyta stares down with surprise at the little human, "I didn't know humans could speak"

Then Orbaks words sink in. The five! That's it. thinks Chyta. "Of course you can't do a divination," she announces with an air of superiority, to figure this one out we would need five of us." It suddenly strikes her as odd, and worrying, that the other's have not arrived. Somewhere between the human and the tablet, she had forgotten that she had been expecting to arrive last, not first.

"You haven't seen any others?"
 
"Well, the legends always said that humans had a language. They even have a culture, if the books I've been reading are true." He nods, happily gabbing about one of his favorite subjects, "There's these big, fake caves made of blocks that they shape out of rock... non-magically! They grow plants to eat and create stuff out of them... sort of like the dryads do, but they do it to make money! In the big, fake caves there's always a human that's their leader and his family, which work a little bit like if the Council had only one member. All the humans listen to him and refer to him as 'King'!" He chuckles, amused at the thought.

Back to the task at hand, however, he shakes his head. "No. You're the first dragon I've seen in a great long time. I've been getting worried. Divination or not, I'm pretty lost without someone more experienced offering a little guidance." He shivers, backing into his wings a bit, "That, and I've never left the caldera. I have no idea what it's like out there. From what Vanessa... this human girl here... is implying, it's not the same as what I've been reading."
 
"I believe they are called cast-els." came Nirroth the Creeper's voice as the large black dragon landed. She smelled very heavily of the swamp and even had some algae stuck between her scales on her back. She also looked like she just recently woke up from a very long nap. She settled down into the grass and turned her horned-head towards the human. She huffed out a rather toxic-looking cloud from her nostrils and put her head down on her folded arms. "Why did you call us, little wyrmling? You interrupted my nap."

Soon to land next to her was her brother, Firroth Swamp-Scale. He seemed much more awake but equally annoyed, though it wasn't at Orbak. It was at his sister, whom he had spent the last week trying to rouse from a sort of hibernation from under the waters of her swamp. He sat beside his sister, casting a disgusted look towards her filthy scales. Oh, and she smelled! Of course, he never smelled of the swamp...That was a lie. He just never admitted to smelling like his swamp. "Bite your tongue, Nirroth. Obviously if the Orbak The Young called us, it was for a reason." Firroth was always one for titles. He swung his head towards the smaller dragon, his horns curling forward just like his sister's, giving their heads almost a trident-like look. "So, tell us, Orbak The Young, Freshly Hatched Keeper, what did you call us about?" He swung his head to the side, not even seeing the human yet. He startled when he saw Chyta but quickly pulled himself together. He was younger than the female dragon and bent his head out of respect to that age difference. "Chyta the Beautiful, Chyta Stunning-Scale, it is a pleasure to be in your presence." He shifted his weight, putting a foot down on his sister's arm and adding weight to it.

Nirroth swung her head at her brother out of pain and stood up. She lifted her leg and looked it over, then shot her brother a glare. Though, she hadn't been fully back asleep yet and had heard who he was referring to. "Greetings, Chyta. It is a pleasure to see you again." She snapped her teeth at her brother shortly after and edged away from him to lie back down. The sun always felt so delightfully warm here and while both her and her brother were swamp dwellers, she enjoyed the sun from time to time.
 
Vanessa looks at the two dragons. It's called a castle. Simple as that. People who live in castles are royalty and they sit on thrones with crowns on their head. They rule over their surrounding area and a group of people called armies that attack other areas for a bigger area. Anyone have any questions?"
 
Chyta knows better than to take Firroth's flattery to heart, but she can't help but be brought back to the days when her now dull purple scales shone dazzling indigo. She bows her head deeply to the brother and sister. "Firroth, Nirroth, I think you may be a little more forgiving when Orbak shows you what he has found." Then, as an afterthought, she adds, "don't eat the human. It - er - she might be useful to us."

She turns her attention back to Victoria, "Do you happen to be the seventh son of man?"
 
Nirroth lifted her head and looked down at the human. "Oh, I had hardly noticed her. If it isn't stewing in it's own rot with a delightful mix of swamp water, I really don't eat it...and she looks very much alive and like she isn't stewing in anything, so...she's safe from me...."

"Nirr, dear, you've made me hungry." Firroth commented, sighing. He hadn't hardly eaten a thing. He was so busy trying to wake his sister...He stretched and sighed, looking over at the human. He smirked. "Armies just mean men with a crunchy exterior." He lifted his head and turned it towards Chyta. "And they cook so easily...or so the flame-children tell me. I do enjoy how the exterior stays crunchy even when they've been stewing for so long...." He turned do the human again, then the other dragon. "Seventh son of man? Probably not. She is what the humans call a 'dot-hir'." He nodded, as if he had all of his information correct and no one should question him on it. "She might be the seventh dot-hir of man, though. Why are we asking?"
 
Orbak politely allows the group to talk to each other, finally bowing with his grey-green scales glittering in the noonday sun. Truth be told, the black-scaled swamp dragons sort of creeped him out. Must be that sort of way their faces looked like skulls if you catch them too soon. He greets the two dragons, "Sir Firroth, Lady Nirroth. I'm glad you've arrived... that does make five of us, if we count Vanessa. Which... well, I'm not sure if we can, she's not a dragon."

Orbak gestures with a wing at the tablet, before going over the prophecy once more, translating it as he goes: "When the light finds it's way to touch the peak of experience, the great fears of old will vanish to the dawning of a new age. Seventh is the son of man, royal in blood and in nature, to bring about the end of chaos' Five is the number to break the seal, though not all five will see the end."

The young caretaker's tail traced along the stone's image of vanishing dragons, looking towards the two. He fidgets nervously, mostly on account of the thought of friend-eating. Meat-eating's fine, fairy-eating is just dandy, but friend-eating should be right out. Still, he hadn't the rank to say anything about it beyond asking, which Chyta had already done so kindly.
 
"Its daughter. A female child of a man and a woman. " She looks at Orbak. "Seventh son? So a boy? Wonderful." She sighs and sits down.
 
"The tiny crunchy thing should mind her manners." Firroth lifted his head and turned it towards the human. "I am well aware of the fact it takes a male and a female to create a clutch of eggs." He turned his head back to Orbak and the stone. "Well, that is a bit disturbing, isn't it? Alright, so, seventh son of man, royal in blood and nature, blah blah blah...A prince? Seventh in line? Honestly! Do human hatchlings not try and eat each other?"

"No, Firroth, I think they prefer to have as many of their hatchlings survive as possible. It is why they are so...populace...."

"I don't think 'populace' is the word you are looking for, Nirroth the Mumbler."

"It is so, Firroth the...the Stupid! Firroth the Unable to Eat All His Siblings!"

He stood up and turned to face his sister, a cloud of acid blowing through his nose. "It is never too late...."

She huffed a cloud back at him. "Now isn't the time, Firroth the Inattentive."

As much as he hated to admit it, his sister was right. He settled back down and looked back at the stone. "It does seem like a prophecy, doesn't it? Well, I'd assume the Peak of Experience would be where we are now, wouldn't it? After all, who is more experienced than dragon elders?" He glanced over at the oldest of the group, then back down at the tablet.
 
"I suppose that makes us dragons the great fears," said Chyta, with a hint of pride. She may not be good at riddles, but she was feared...at least she was in her time, "and there do seem to be a few of us missing," she continues, this time with a little more darkness in her voice. "Could it be that this is a prophecy foretelling our doom? at the hand of a human? Why, I don't particularly like the creatures, but it's rare that just one can pose any threats"

She looks down at the young girl, striking her most fearsome pose, "Human! If it isn't you, who is this seventh son of man? What sort of magic does he possess?" she lets out a small puff of hot smoke for good measure.
 
Drakel the White swooped overhead, beating his wings as he circled the group. He'd heard the commotion and had come to investigate, though he had no interest in going down and getting too involved with the larger dragons. While he was certainly old enough to hold his own, the cold climate he lived in had stunted his growth a bit. He stretched out and glided for a bit, his almost skeletal head craning as he circled, listening in with his keen hearing.
 
Orbak offers a polite, "I don't think she is, or knows the 'Seventh Son'." He continues, "In the books I've read, the number seven has symbolic meaning. Seven is a number that is considered lucky the first time, but unlucky the second time. Thus, while a 'seventh son' is considered very special, the seventh son OF a seventh son is an absolute curse... and normally mistreated." He smiles, gesturing towards his ruin, offering a meek, "I read a lot."

He nods to Firroth, "That's probably right. We're looking for the seventh child of one of the human 'Kings'. A seventh prince." He continues to put them together, looking back at the slab when he needs to. "So... Still don't know what 'the light' is, but it's supposed to touch 'the peak of experience'... which we're assuming to mean the Council themselves. Which will make 'the greatest fears'... dragons... Vanish. The one responsible is a seventh prince of a human kingdom..." He pauses, "It'll take five to prevent it, but 'one won't see the end'. That doesn't sound good at all." Orbak looks a bit concerned, looking around at the dragons assembled.

His tail whips a bit as he looks back at the tablet, "The only problem is... that's all the information we've got."
 
"One of the white dragons has joined us." Nirroth said, a lazy eye cast upwards. "Or, is pretending to not join us, but I'd imagine he's listening in..."

Firroth looked up and snorted. He seemed to like to snort, or was doing it an awful lot today at any rate. "I think that's Drakel..." He lifted his head as high as he could and squinted. "Yes, I believe it is. Drakel White-Scale! Ice-Eater! Come and join our conversation! It's actually pretty important!"

"Firroth the Flatterer." She rolled her eyes and put her head back down.
 
Orbak shifts uneasy, trying his hardest to avoid the acidic mist the two black dragons continued to snort into the area. At least it smelled better than they did: seems the two really did bring the swamp with them wherever they went, and all Orbak could really do about it is force his eyes not to water. The young green puzzled at the two. Ice-Eater... Orbak the Young. A part of the caretaker honestly believed that the titles were a subtle way for the black dragon to insult people with plausible deniability, since he could claim it was unintentional. Genius, in a conniving sort of way. Orbak actually found himself respecting the black dragon a little more for the ploy, regardless of his interpretation being true or false.

The caretaker tilted his head upwards towards the sky. It's true, there was a white dragon up there, trying to blend in amongst the clouds and afternoon sky. He smiled in a somewhat dim-witted way at the thought. Finally, he called up, "It's quite alright! There's not supposed to be predation in the caldera. At least not of other dragons."
 
Dawn, late fall, at His Majesty's primary estate
A cold, wintery draft blew through the stone window, over the large wooden bed, through the thick bearskin blankets, and tickled the exposed nose of a petite young thing, shivering violently. A soft knock at the door jolted her awake, her deep blue eyes blinking away sleep. "Lady Theron, have you awakened?" A middle-aged woman opened the thick door and brought another draft past the girl's bare cheek. "Branwen, would you please stop calling me that? I get enough from Mother." The woman shook her head and picked up an iron poker from its place by the fire.
"Milady, your brother is due back from his hunt today. Do you wish to wear one of your gowns?"
"Does it matter? I'm going to be wearing a dozen furs over it, anyways."
"Calandra, you must look presentable for Lord Theron."
The girl pulled the covers up over her head. "Fine! Just make sure it's one of the mink-trimmed ones."

~*~

Small bells attached to the sides of the horses played a merry tune as the small company of men rode through the frosty forest. A large Clydesdale, with furry white hooves and distinctive brown eyes, led the group through the half-frozen mud leading to the Royal Estate. Atop the beast sat a thin but muscled man, barely into his twentieth year, with a finely-tailored set of armor made from his own kills. The men surrounding him held shields with an artfully designed crest – dragons swirling through an open sky, half-faded from view.
As the large castle came into view, the Clydesdale picked up the pace, eager to rest in a warm stall and eat dried apples to his heart's content. A horn began to sound from one of the distant towers – the party had officially arrived.
 
The white-scaled beast swooped down, an icy chill following him as he landed, his wings outstretched to slow his decent. He sat back on his haunches and wrapped his tail around the front of his body, not unlike a cat. "Firroth, Nirroth... a pleasure as always." He said in a soft, but deep rumble that sounded like the cracking of a glacier against a ship's hull. He turned his atention to Orbak and reached up to pick something out of one of his scales. "And what exactly is going on... I heard something about a prophesy... but there is now way that can be coming already... surely there is more time before the Seventh Son is born... or have I truly been asleep that long?
 
Orbak patiently explains, "All you see is who showed up... and it's already late in the waiting." The concerned young-adult drake gestures with his wings to the otherwise empty caldera. He gives the white an interested look, perking up, "You seem to know a bit more about the prophecy than we do." He steps forward, bowing, "Please, if you would give us what information we can..." He pauses for a moment, "Maybe we can prevent ourselves from vanishing, like everyone else seems to have."

He fidgets once more, trying his hardest not to turn his head around and preen his crest or scales. A habit he picked up when he was nervous, and he feared it would make him appear too vain for his age. Watching the White do it brought it to the front of his mind, forcing Orbak to think about it consciously. "I'll admit, I'm torn between staying here, where it might be safe, and trying to find out what's going on down with the other races." He hastily adds on, "Not that I would do anything like that without permission from the council! I'm supposed to take care of the caldera, after all."
 
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