“Humans survive by being resourceful,” Adrissu replied. “But... with those two gone, and the rest of the town seeing three dragons wipe them out, I don’t think anyone will want to try anything similar for a long time. They know we’re watching now.”
Naydruun did not respond, only nodded silently. Adrissu sighed, then he too settled on the ground. He couldn’t leave Naydruun alone in this state. They sat quietly for a long while, until the sun was setting and the sky was becoming orange, when finally Naydruun seemed to shake themself into action, standing back up abruptly.
“I will tell Tyrsun about this,” they said bitterly. “So that he knows his arrogance killed his mother.”
If their previous warnings had gone unheeded, Adrissu doubted Tyrsun would care, at least not enough to change his behavior. They were his parents, and draconic custom would compel Tyrsun to allow them into his territory and to hear them out, but whether or not he obeyed would be entirely up to his own discretion.
But he could not say as much to Naydruun, so he only nodded.
“Should we burn her here?” he asked softly, and the other dragon shook their head vehemently.
“No,” they spat, as if the very idea was offensive. “No, I... I can carry her. If not back to Robruolor, at least somewhere far from here.”
“Alright, then,” Adrissu sighed, taking another step away. “I... I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry this happened. But she will come back to you. You only have to be patient. It’s hard, but that’s all there is to it.”
Naydruun was silent, their expression unreadable as they stared down at Heriel’s body, not once looking back up at Adrissu.
Finally, he added nervously, “Keep the enchanted paper. I will do my best to monitor the situation here and... If another threat like this should arise again, I’ll keep you informed.”
“Yes,” Naydruun said. “And let me know if Tyrsun keeps... acting out, if you can.”
“I will,” Adrissu replied. “I’ll leave you alone now. I... Well, goodbye.”
“Zamnes,” Naydruun interrupted, before he could get very far. “Your mate has come back to you before?”
“A few times, now,” he said softly.
They were silent again for a long moment.
“Then all three of us have known this,” they muttered. “I am... sorry for how I spoke to you before.”
Adrissu hesitated, but they said nothing else.
“I understand,” he finally replied. He did not forgive them, exactly, but Naydruun’s slumped form was so miserable that he couldn’t help but pity them. “I am sorry all three of us are in the same unenviable club now. Hopefully, we will all have better news for each other the next time we speak.”
Naydruun nodded, but did not speak again. After a moment, Adrissu turned and took to the air, flying high before heading south, back toward Polimnos. It was not quite dark, but it would be by the time he returned home.
Adrissu wrote on their shared parchment only once. Part of him felt responsible for how the meeting had gone, even though it had been their idea in the first place. A small, petty part of him was almost glad to see the other dragon’s suffering, after having played a part in his own suffering in the past—but that feeling was far outweighed by the part of him that still felt the same tense respect he and Heriel had shared—and he was sorry to have had a hand, however indirect, in her demise.
In the end, he wrote only a sentence:If there is anything I can do to help you, please ask.The parchment didn’t have the space for him to elucidate any further, but he thought the message struck a balance between succinct and sympathetic.
He checked periodically over the next several days, but Naydruun never wrote back. It was just as well, he supposed, as the idea of having any further correspondence with them made him feel anxious. Instead, he kept his head down as the new term began, listening to the shocking news and swirling rumors about the dragon attack that had decimated several buildings in Wintergrove. From all reports, Daiana and Granville were the only two casualties, though he was sure others must have been injured.
“A red, a blue, and a black,” he overheard one of his professors saying to another, as they ate lunch in a school courtyard the first week of class. “The red must have been the one local to Wintergrove, and I’d bet anything the black was Zamnes.”
“You think so?” the other professor asked, sounding surprised. “He hasn’t been spotted in years... What would he be doing in Wintergrove?”
“He must still be around,” the other replied in a hushed tone. “That he knew what was going on... It’s frightening to think about, isn’t it?”
“And what about the blue? I’ve heard nothing about a blue dragon anywhere near here. Do they travel so far? I know Kipp was developing weapons, but... Is that really all it took? Why there? Why now?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s another, what, hundred years before he’s spotted again. Hopefully, whatever woke him from his slumber is over now.”
He should not have been surprised they suspected it was Zamnes—after all, there was no other black dragon nearby, so who else could it have been? Still, it unsettled him to hear his own professors discussing him with such blatant fear, so he stayed in his elven form exclusively for a few months afterward. When he risked taking on his true form again, he was excessively cautious, never leaving his lair unless the sun had been down for at least an hour, and returning well before sunrise.
He did not hear from Naydruun; and once all the chatter had died down about the dragon attack in Wintergrove, he heard nothing about that either for a long while. He kept an ear out for rumors about new weapons, those that were magically enhanced especially, and often asked Alana Pughes about anyone else that had used her steam enchantments for similar purposes. For several years, it seemed no one wanted to risk drawing the attention of not one, but three dragons once again.
