Nyxella — Roleplayer Guild

“...dragon tamers.”

At the utterance of those two words, the walls reverberated with a deep, almost guttural, rumble. As the vibrations travelled beneath them, a strong energy permeated the air. To the dark-haired woman, it felt as if her mind was wearing a corset, and the strings were pulled too tight. In an afterthought, Cairene noted how similar it was to the aura that radiated from the black dragon at Merrik’s beck and call. With a rustic shudder, the wooden doors to each enclosure opened, and the new sensations she felt intensified. Beauteous and terrible, the dragons took to the stage; flying and frolicking upwards and outwards, showcasing their natural and inherent capabilities. Cairene danced on the balls of her black boots and covered the peak of her high bun, twisting and twirling, trying to evade the streaks of painted fire that were always rising two steps in front of her. She huffed furiously, pushing curly locks off her now moistened brow, tromping westward until, at last, she found the edge of the colosseum.

If the dragons were laughing, she couldn’t hear them, with her concerns now focused solely on the damage wrought upon her handiwork. She quickly dusted the invisible dirt from her violet dress, checked the raised front for singe marks, and the draping rear for rips or tears. Without her proper tools, no amount of artful tucking and wrapping could save her destroyed bouffant, and that made her pout more so than the smudges on her boots and leggings. She searched frantically through pockets and purse, but could not find her hand-held mirror, and the denial of her natural instinct didn’t sit well. She needed to view herself, to be reassured by her reflection; the one variable she still had some control over. Her hands rose at either side of her head, as if trying to contain an explosion, trembling with the effort to not curse and growl. She planted her balled fists on each hip, and was about to stride back into the chaos, when a tiny glimmer caught her eye.

“My pearl!” she exclaimed, scooping the shell-shaped object into her gloved hands.

The sun was quick to scold her vanity, glaring at her through the mirror so intensely she had to quickly flip it shut and turn away. Looking into it again, she became absorbed by her appearance; planning the minor tweaks to make, humming a pleasant tune, and observing her features from different angles. They blanched when she noticed something had gone missing, it was not a mere piece of her ensemble, but a token of affection she cherished deeply. As a strange coincidence, she noticed another anomaly in her reflection, just behind the edge of her messy bun. A bejewelled orb glimmered mischievously. It was not the emerald one she sought, but another, much larger jem, the colour of rubies.

[ You think yourself beautiful, small one? ]

A melodic sound accompanied the flux of energy that pulsed within her. Cairene didn’t turn or shudder beneath it, nor did she lower her hand. She spoke calmly at the ruby in her mirror as if it were a common happenstance, “Do you disagree?”

[ Do you not understand the concept of a question? ]

“Snappy,” she mused. The creature’s tone had an elegant flair to it, like a foreign accent. “The answer to your question is ‘yes’. Do you not see the evidence before you?” She spun around to make a grand curtsy, not expecting to see an open cavern filled with blackness. Not feeling curious enough to approach, she peered into the cavern, trying to pick out shapes in the darkness. The voice returned.

[ Is it what you wear that makes you believe so? ]

At this, Cairene gave a single chuckle, feeling somewhat insulted. “Of course not, creature. What I wear compliments what I already am, and I am twice blessed by being able to make very tasteful selections.” She swept the hair from her face with a dainty flourish and smiled.

[ There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you are speaking the truth. That isn’t to say I believe you. I can feel your self-assurance burning stronger than the others. ]

“Are you indirectly calling me vain? Because if you are, you should know that there is a very distinct difference between that and confidence!” Cairene quipped. The mirror in her hand was still open, she angled it against the sunlight and shone a beam into the cell. An annoyed rumble came in return, then the ruby flared once more, and with it, its twin, all in unison with the invisible ribbons of heat curling outwards from the dark. Cairene began to quiver.

[ Yes and no. It resonates with my own, but I sense that there is more to it. We are both misunderstood; we know that the true admiration of beauty is to observe and portray its principles. Yet, quoting what you said, there is a difference: I covet it, you appreciate it. ]

“I… don’t follow.”

[ Then allow me to make it abundantly clear. ]

A sharp breath sounded from within, followed by the scraping noise of claws on the solid stone, and a gentler noise that more closely resembled a flutter than a rumble. Cairene steeled herself, recalling flashing images of the dragons seen scattering about, trying to torch her. However, what emerged from the gloom could not be compared to any of the most beauteous things she had ever seen. Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth, now gaping in silent awe. It was a dragon unlike any other, graceful and sleek, wearing a thick mane of prismatic colours between her horned crown. As they exchanged stares, a rapid procession of memories and thoughts threaded through her mind’s core like a lucid dream. It made her aware of a void-like emptiness she never knew existed, while at the same time filling it with all that was missing. There was so much to take in, she felt her entire body tingle with pure joy, wonder and excitement. The mirror fell away from her open hand as the vibrations travelled up her spine. Those crimson jewels were all that kept her from drifting away, they appeared to be in search of something, traveling over her with a scrutinous gaze. Finally, their eyes found each other.

[ What do you call yourself? ]

“Cairene Maja.”

[ Cairene, I am the Amethyst Dragon of Vanity. I and my brothers and sisters have been waiting for this moment; to meet our sacred halves and become whole. They call me Asmara. You may call me... your dragon. ]

Tears flowed from her eyes so suddenly she had to touch them to see if they were real. Her breaths became ragged and she blinked heavily, knowing the rain would soon fall and sweep every scrap of composure beneath a torrent of bittersweet sobs. She took a few deep breaths, held the last one in, stood taller… and gasped and stuttered, and made a righteous fool of herself. Damning her efforts, the words kept hitching on the lump in her throat, that rose at the mere thought of what she wanted to express. She wanted to tell the dragon - her dragon - that it was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen; that she was couldn’t properly comprehend these new feelings, but knew with absolute clarity that she would do all within her power to protect her. Such a pathetic response was unbefitting, so she gave an exasperated sigh and politely turned to the side.

“For the Oracle's sake, Cairene, at least look like you have a divine nerve in you! It isn’t like you to crumble like this...”

A weight settled on her shoulder, and without looking, she knew and felt it was Asmara. Smiling into her palm, she abandoned her pursuit of a stoic front and rested her head against the dragon’s snout, listening to her breaths, feeling her warmth and the security that came with it. It was amazing to be so close to her, their energies seemed to thrive on their contact and proximity to each other. She removed a glove and ran her bare hand over the point of Asmara’s nose, remarking at how each scale was polished to a diamond’s sheen, yet smoother than the finest silk. Her fingers brushed against a bump that felt like it shouldn’t be there. Curious, she pushed at it gently until it fell into her palm - her earring! Asmara felt the woman’s gladness, heard her reprimanding comments, and hummed in content. This human was her newest and most precious jewel now. Their union felt natural, it was easy to not only assume but agree with the other’s thoughts, views and attitudes. The woman’s capacity to find beauty in the most unlikely places, to both love and appreciate it, was intriguing. Asmara inhaled deeply, relishing in her tamer’s touch, the heady perfume in her hair, and the way she melodiously hummed without noticing or meaning to. Cairene didn’t need to explain her feelings, and Asmara didn’t need to reassure her that she understood; they were both completely in tune with each other. They were both complete.

[ He speaks now. Listen. ]

Asmara knew the mind of her tamer - more specifically, its habits - already. The two of them departed Cairene’s daydream together, and paid the head duo the reverence they were due. Still new to her tamer’s emotions, Asmara inwardly winced, amazed at how strong they were. The combination of large, stone walls, with the enormity of Merrik’s dragon, roused an irrevocable meekness that humbled them both. Were it not for a similar display a few weeks before, there was every chance Cairene would have found an alternate ending; not with her new companion, but inside a mass grave, rotting with the other statistics of plague reports from her former destination. She did well to remember that fact whenever arguments of logic challenged her moral decision.

Earlier, when the great black beast held their attentions by soaring skywards, Cairene remained anchored to the mirror in her hand. But now, as he entered their minds, his presence was no longer a factor to be superseded by mortal whims. He spoke directly to her soul, possessing the same magnitude as his tamer, and even without the aid of his previous aerobatics, the sheer grandiosity of Obsidian Nova benighted any shred of self-concern. To soothe her mind, Asmara tried to explain that the unnatural feeling of his presence was normal, and guided her focus to how majestic he looked. But something in Asmara’s description of him snagged - he was a Nightmare Dragon. A new fear of him implanted itself in Cairene’s mind, and despite her dragon’s efforts, it would not go away soon. A strong gust swept over them as the great beast ascended, his opal scales gleaming with each movement beneath the noon light. His power was a thing of beauty; the way he deftly carried his weight, and the weight of his rider, on the movements of his most delicate of appendages.

When Cairene looked to Asmara, whose thin, silvery wings looked questionable against her slender build, she had a brief moment of doubt. Easily picking up on this, the bright violet dragon snorted her offence, expanding the full span of her wings so that the breeze tossed Cairene’s hair, and raised her tail defiantly. She was a magnificent flier, and once her tamer felt the truth in her movements, the little human would think twice about her commentary. Cairene giggled at the extent of her dragon’s pride, planting a light kiss on her shoulder. She took the time to get familiar with Asmara’s physique, and the dragon, eager to prove her strength, moved each of her limbs to aid the application of the safety harness. It was a precaution to benefit the both of them, but Asmara busied their minds with thoughts of how Cairene needed to pay close attention to her movements, so they could be rid of the restraints as soon as possible. In truth, none were certain of how well this venture would go.

For a first attempt, it went well, there were only three causes for discomfort and none of them were Asmara’s fault. According to Cairene, the pair could do without the constant preening that saw Asmara crane her neck in a position that thrust her mane into the woman’s face. She discovered that her dragon’s flowing mane was actually composed of soft yet firm fibres, like those on the shaft of a bird’s feather. As Cairene compared the texture to that of a duck’s, she also learned that the lotus-like end of her tail is as good for balance as it is for slapping impudent tamers. She noticed the relative ease of acceleration from graceful strides to a swift and choppy gait while on-foot, but her preference became clear once the more rambunctious younglings took to the skies. From her perch, she could see Asmara’s fluid movements rippling through the twilled muscles that knit each shoulder to a wing.

Being a smaller dragon, Asmara needed to adjust the rhythm of her wing-beats to compensate for the extra girth, and with the added weight of Cairene’s excited thoughts crashing through her concentration, it took a while for them to rise above ten feet. For their first few laps, they sailed at even height, performing serpentine maneuvers and just enjoying the experience together. When it felt like they were truly of one mind and being, the pair began a slow ascent, reaching higher for the colosseum’s rim. The mental connection with Asmara further deepened Cairene’s exhilaration, removing all worries and concerns for what might happen should she bounce and bob a little too hard for either of them to contain. Sitting in her hollow between Asmara’s shoulders, framed by the crest of tall spines protruding from them, feeling the dragon’s movement, and the power in her limbs, Cairene felt, with utter surety, that there were no limits to what she and her partner could do.

Nyxella Member

Delphic Dame

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts