The Other
And perhaps they will.
The wild ones may spit their flames and light up the sky with their pretty threats—or perhaps attempt to snatch her and cart her back to their nests to protect and worship—but unless threatened, they won’t hurt Raeve.
They won’t willingly maim that which has already passed.
Flamed.
Eaten.
He won’t.
She may smell like him, but he also smells very much like her.
The Other reaches the end of the trail and slides off Raeve’s iron ring, pocketing it.
Huffs when she considers just how easy this would be if she still had her wings.
Though having also gone hunting for Bulder’s words amongst her Precious One’s lost or discarded memories, The Other is well equipped, casting commands with the perfect dialect Elluin worked hard to hone so very long ago.
The God of Ground listens, shifting stumps of stone from beneath the muddy depths, pushing them above the bubbling surface like an offering. Shaping a path that leads all the way out to the middle of the bog, where the nest sits unattended.
To where The Other can see that little shard of silver shining like the light of one of her ancestors. A quiet call her heart yearns to be close to.
She moves from stone to stone, disappearing into the fog with Kaan some distance behind—a fierce, protective fire in his eyes that burns like a blaze of Sabersythe flame. Above them, Moltenmaws swoop and scream, the sky alive with a thunderous roar of fluttering intrigue.
The Other finally reaches the island in the middle, the one that sits directly below the pink dam’s perished mate—forever slumbering, his solidified wing covering what she senses is a weapon pierced through his chest.
A sadness washes over her at the thought. At the parallels Kaan Vaegor does not yet understand.
The Other slips the iron ring back on and moves onto the moss-covered mound, loose twigs crunching beneath the soles of her uncomfortable footwear as she climbs toward the bouldered nest. Toward that silver shard radiating its cold light.
Stepping into the nest’s rounded shelter, The Other pulls on the scent of dust and embers, moving into the bowl packed with pink and orange feathers. Plucked plumage belonging to both the dam and her lost mate.
Respectful of the shrine, she moves with tender motions, each step precisely placed.
Ignoring the screaming commotion beyond, she crouches by the shard, picks away the cushion of feathers the dam has packed around it, then runs her fingers over its sharp edges …
A piece of wing. The one she used to shelter Allume and her Precious Little One.
Her gaze is lured to the plump pink egg beside it, softly colored. Like the base of the mourning dam’s beak. She reaches out, brushing the tips of her fingers across the egg’s feathered surface, warm despite the coldness within.
Empty of life.
The Other tunes into the scents of the nest, overpowered by the strong notes of the dam’s deep grief. Realizes this egg was not unfertilized as others may believe but heartbreakingly left too long without warmth. Perhaps when the dam first lost her mate.
Sadness fills The Other’s chest like a stone too heavy to lift.
She, too, knows how it feels to sit on an egg void of life, forever bidding it to hatch. For many cycles … until the silver ribbon splashed her heart and changed the color of her hide, planting a song within her chest—impossibly vast and infinite.
A song weighty with life.
With existence.
A luminous fiber she once shared with her own egg in the hopes that it would sing the same tune to her Little One forever slumbering within. Again, she feels the desire to share it. A gift she knows is temporary, as they always are.
As everything is.
Settling her hands on the egg, she leans forward and presses her lips against the warm shell, expelling a frosty breath—lids sweeping shut as she unspools a tendril of that luminous thread from deep within. And passes it over.
Gifts it.
When she opens her eyes again, the egg is no longer pink, but silver. The exact shade as her little Allume.
A sad smile pulls at The Other’s lips, and she picks up the shard, cold in her hands.
A gift for a gift.
She turns with the treasure hugged close to her chest. Follows the same cautious path out of the feather-filled bowl, stepping free just as the dam returns, hovering over the nest now swallowed by a churn of mist.
She screeches, flames licking at the back of her throat, threatening to spill.
Despite being in a body much smaller and more fragile than she used to be, with less teeth and claws, The Other looks the dam in the eye—stance steady.
Firm.
Doesn’t so much as blink.
The Moltenmaw snaps her beak shut and cocks her head to the side as a silent message passes between the two … from one mourning dam to another. Something that’s said more loudly with the cold echo of silence.
The Other dips her chin in submission, feeling the dam’s steady gaze on her as she walks onto the mist-swarmed stones.
Perhaps sensing the life now fluttering within her egg, the dam gushes into the nest the moment the path is clear. Squeaking sounds follow—the gentle coos of a nurturing dam while she fluffs herself, nuzzling her egg, rolling it.
Treasuring it.
The Other moves from stone to stone, the rest of the flock now tossing orange flames through the mist. Hot blazes that burn off some of the smog and illuminate the ghosts of a scalding past etched all over her skin.
Thousands of runes used to smooth her Precious One’s delicate flesh … time and time again.
The Moving Mists honor the dead much in the same way dragons do, gathering behind The Other like stretching wings as she comes face-to-face with the mate of her Precious One.
His face is pale and drawn, the fire gone from his eyes. All that remains beneath the mantle of his pinched brow are deep seeds of grief, his stare scraping across the luminous etches that litter Raeve’s skin. Each mark a distant scream of pain she never let past her lips.
Not once.
His attention shifts to the foggy wings now stretching, tethered from between The Other’s shoulder blades. He swallows, face bunching, his next words a broken rasp. “What are you?”
“You know what I am, Kaan Vaegor. I am neither living nor dead. Once broken and now”—The Other offers him a sad smile, resting her hand over the shard held close to her chest—“almost whole.”
Something shatters in his eyes. “H—How?”
The Other doesn’t dare utter the truth, not wanting to be the one to break this lovely male’s heart. But he’ll learn it … eventually. Before everything is put back together again.
Before the balance is restored.
So instead, she tells him a different truth. A soft, lovely truth that’s worthy of his big, warm heart.
“There is nothing she would not do for you.”
Much as there is nothing The Other would not do for her Precious Little One.
Kaan falls to his knees, his breaths coming hard and fast.
“Her many truths sit like stones in my den, waiting to be found. You are the brightest of them all. Perhaps the reason she has been so cautious of it. In her life, the brightest lights blink out.”
His face twists, hands balling into fists so tight his knuckles turn white. “Who hurt her?”
Too many.
“Those stories are not mine to share.” Another blow of flame erupts, illuminating her many runes again.
“You are right not to push her. As we speak, she is searching for one of the songs she once knew. I am tending the most painful bits of her past, giving them to her slowly. She will learn the full truth when she is ready.”
As will you.
The Other pauses, thinking of the weight of everything she knows. Thinking of what she’s sure is destined to come. She lifts a hand from her precious shard, touching his face, the scruff around his jaw softer than she expected it to be. “Thank you …”
“For what?” he rasps as another blow of dragonflame ignites her skin, his eyes filling with a sheen that drips down one of his cheeks.
The Other smiles, beginning to slink back beneath the surface when she says, “For loving her as much as I do.”
She lets Raeve’s body fall, knowing he’ll catch her and take her somewhere she can truly rest.
She’s slipping silently into the lake when she hears his distant scream. The heartbroken cry of a mourning male whose world just fell apart.