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The heavy cloak of darkness that rested in Aberrus' halls was only interrupted by the faint glow of glass prisons holding experiments long discarded. Vrishti peered into the clouded glass to try and perceive the shadows obscured within.
We aren't that different, she thought. An aching feeling in her chest began to form as she pursued the thought further.
No, we are the same. Forgotten. Abandoned. Thrown away.
Neltharion's crucible had grown cold in his absence, as if despair permeated every crack in its walls. The magma that flowed beneath it offered no warmth, only a whisper of heat that harshly contrasted the caverns' stagnant air. It disturbed Vrishti, even as she continued to press onward with her party. She knew she was never meant to be here. It seemed as if Neltharion's memory watched her in disapproval with every step she took forward. She could almost recall his voice as it had sounded in her mind so long ago.
“Watch yourself, evoker. Know you are nothing without your commander.”
She often heard his voice when all else was silent, though sometimes she thought it must be her own mind conjuring it to torment her. Her father- no, creator, she reminded herself - would never speak such words to her.
Though, maybe that wasn't exactly true either. Her attention turned towards Wrathion and Sabellian, and the loathing they felt for Neltharion- no, Deathwing, Vrishti cursed at herself again.
“ Your duty is to protect dragonkind at any cost. You shall be the perfect soldiers, destroying the enemies of the Aspects and carrying our future on your wings. Remember this, evoker.”
At the time it seemed so simple. Her will was nothing but an extension of Neltharion’s, and her purpose clearly defined. Her claws were unstained by the blood of her kin as she championed the Aspects (or was it Neltharion’s...?) cause.
But that cause was nothing but a hazy memory of a time long passed as Vrishti approached Sarkareth’s chamber. The unnatural light bathed his golden scales in a sickly pallor. His wings beat the stale air into the ground, carrying Vrishti’s reverie along with it. He looked over his shoulder; his cold gaze pierced through her scales.
She recalled that same gaze back in the Forbidden Reach. He lunged at her - ensuring that his commanding presence would be forever engraved in her psyche.
“You abandoned your weyrn!” he shouted. Her snout glistened with fresh blood after he had raked her with his talons. “You are nothing but a coward and traitor. The Sundered Flame will relish in your demise!”
She was sure he would kill her then and there, after all she believed that would be a fitting punishment for a traitor such as herself, but he had flown away without another word. Yet his words cut deeper than his claws ever could, and Vrishti’s conscience still bore the scars he inflicted that day.
Vrishti wondered if Sarkareth recalled this too. Yet she knew the dracthyr in front of her now was not the scalecommander she remembered. He was something far more sinister, corrupted in the shadow of their creator. His mind was addled. If he had even recognized her, he showed no sign of it as he coldly stared at the crowd behind him.
Was this what you intended, Father? Your own children hunting each other like savage beasts? Living with no guidance, no meaning… did you hope for this when you had discarded us?
Crimson fire collected in Vrishti’s throat. She leaned forward, raising her wings to balance herself as she threw forth a brilliant flame. It illuminated the room as it hurtled toward her commander, his eyes widening in shock at the belligerence. He retaliated at once, launching himself in front of the group as if he had been prepared for this battle his entire life.
Sarkareth, my commander, my brother, my friend. I am sorry that this is what it has come to. Maybe in another life, you will understand. I am torn apart by seeing you fall so far into disgrace. I hope that we may one day forgive each other for our respective betrayals.