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Hornet stood vigilant outside the Temple of the Black Egg, lance at the ready as unease crawled up the back of her neck. The vines of infection had begun to shrivel up and die without warning. She didn’t know what it meant. Where was her sibling?
Taloned fingernails dug into the leather grip of her weapon and her tail twitched, betraying her otherwise neutral mask.
Loud thumping behind the unsealed door of the temple caught her antsy attention immediately and she brandished her weapon, a growl rumbled low in her chest but didn’t make it past her throat. The only thing that could be making those sounds was the Hollow Drake- how did they become unsealed?
Were they still infected?
Hornet settled into an offensive stance as the loud and uneven gait of the once sealed dragon inside emerged, dragging massive chains and manacles on its impressive limbs. Two long pronged horns ducked below the doorway before it met her eyes. Those empty eyes behind a pale white mask regarded her with unreadable emotion.
Hornet’s stance faltered.
They were empty. Their eyes- just like she remembered when she was a mere toddler. Black, empty, but full of awareness.
They weren’t full of the infection, yet their body bore the signs of it. Hornet felt her throat close up and let her stance drop completely. They were barely supporting their body weight on their single front forelimb, the other looked as if it had been burned away with acid. Their body was merely scale and bones, no signs of fat padding or any lingering nutrition.
Their belly and right side bore ghastly wounds that could only have been caused by the burrowing infection they failed to contain. Hornet watched a scale fall, unbidden, to the floor and clink quietly. Their labored breathing also caught her ear. It was almost as if they were being silently strangled with how hard their chest expanded and how quickly air rushed out.
Hornet raised her hand to her mask to catch her from making any uncharacteristic sounds.
They were watching her, attentively, and Hornet came to the realization they were waiting for an order. She nearly laughed sardonically. Of course only her half-sibling- even after spending a century sealed up being burned inside out by the infection- would still wait patiently to be told what to do.
She sighed.
“Hollo-w,” her voice broke, but she ignored it, “sit down.”
Without hesitation, their hindquarters squatted down with a massive boom that echoed through the temple. They heaved out a strained breath, neck going limp like a wet blade of grass. Their labored breathing continued.
Hornet ignored the hard pit in her stomach and walked forward over to the Hollow Drake. They regarded her silently and motionlessly. Her attention, however, was not on her sibling but the worn down restraints put in place around their limbs. As she got closer she noticed that a collar had dug itself into the dragon’s neck.
A small, shocked growl escaped her which made the Hollow Drake faintly turn their head. She shushes them without thinking and walks over to investigate the binding.
The metal was rusted and old. The hinges looked like they would give with a couple of good hits.
“Stay still,” she said, and readied her lance. The Hollow Drake gave no reaction except stilling themself like Hornet ordered. They didn’t flinch away or hiss as she whacked the collar with precise strikes.
One good stab snaps the rusted hinge and the collar slams to the floor loudly. Immediately she heard her sibling take in a massive gulp of air. Their chest expanded and fell smoothly. Their wings subtly relax yet they still remain motionless. Hornet clicks her tongue and looks to the other bindings, all in the same sorry condition. Some looked like they would be easy to move with how much weight the dragon had lost.
She focused her attention on the bindings that looked to be pinching scales or hindering movement. The massive room was filled with the sound of stubborn whacks of metal on metal then a resounding clang as another shackle fell.
Once she had removed enough of the rusted metal from her sibling’s hide she let her aching arms rest. The act of striking metal with her lance set nearly painful vibrations up her arms.
She sighed, running a partially gloved hand over her sibling’s hide.
“You may move now, Hollow,” she said, relinquishing her order.
Hollow then surprised her by shifting back enough to push their head into her chest. The bold movement startled her into nearly dropping her lance. She nearly exclaimed in confusion when she heard it.
A deep thrum that came from within the dragons chest.
It wasn’t a purr- they were too big to purr- it was more of a comfortable growl. She could feel the deep thrum travel from their head directly into her tight gut.
Hornet blinked. Her throat tightened once more. Behind her mask her eyes began to water.
“Hey, Hollow,” Hornet said softly. She placed her lance upon her back and raised her hands to their massive pale face. She rubbed their temple and let her mask drop against theirs with a small clunk.
Gghhrrmmmmm…
They rumble.
Hornet couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at her lips, it was small and strained, but nostalgic.
“I missed you too,” she whispered. She leaned her weight against them gently as if they would break, but even in their weakened state they easily supported her weight. Their cold breath washed across her legs and made her cloak billow.
Cchrrrrrr…
Their single forearm shook and finally gave out from beneath them. They unceremoniously dropped to the floor and heaved a long sigh. Hornet tilted her head and reached up to rub between their massive horns where she remembered that they loved being scratched now that it was in reach.
The purr deepened and made the very ground rumble. They pushed their head oh so daintily up into her tiny scratching hand.
Hornet giggled quietly which made their purr ever louder.
Hornet looked over their body, eyes lingering on the open sores and torn wings. Their mighty spade on the tip of their tail had been broken in half.
They had to be in great pain, even though they acted like they weren’t.
“Hollow,” Hornet said resolutely. Hollow tilted their head up, indicating that she had their attention. She gave them one more good scratch before she took her hand away.
“Get up.”
The look they pinned her with would make a lesser being crumple with grief. While they were supposed to be expressionless the amount of forlorn sorrow behind their gaze was nearly physical.
“Get up,” she ordered again, “We have to treat these wounds before they become infected.” Again.
They croon, wings fold tight in a sign of reluctance. Hornet lets her shoulders drop.
“I know you’re exhausted, but we can’t rest here. There is a town just above the surface, they will help us.”
Another mournful croon.
“Please?”
…
The Hollow Drake released a grand sigh and pulled away. They pushed up on their single front leg and nearly faltered. Hornet stepped back. She wanted to help, but she could not with her size. She swallows,
“Use your right wing to support your right side,” she suggested. Hollow’s wing immediately came down. Even with its emaciated state, it did help. Hollow heaved themself to their feet and looked to Hornet for more direction.
She walked up to their mask and stood by their side. Her hand came up to rest on their mask. They carefully leaned into it.
“Forward, I’ll direct you.”
Chhrrrrr…