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Chapter Text

An Empath’s Entrance to Existence

In the land of Kumandra, a land inhabited by mortals and magical beings alike, two dragons sat hunched in a cave. Their names were Kanjo and Firingu, a mated pair, and their focus was locked on their egg just a few feet away from them. Kanjo was a stout, purple dragon, his long sleek body designed for quick and nimble movement. He could easily move his body with the slightest twitch of his muscles, and for fighting against the Druun. That agility was useful for avoiding the Druun, for even the slightest touch could turn their victims to stone. His unique magic allowed his body to adopt the density of water, which meant that it could not compress, making it very hard to injure or harm him.

As for Firingu, the dragoness was smaller than her mate, but she was actually physically stronger than him. Her strength in combat outclassed many of her peers, including Kanjo. Her azure coat drooped with water after the swim she had taken to get here after a crucial battle down at the tail end of Kumandra, the part that would eventually become the Tail Region of Kumandra. Her magic involved directing the wind, a mild irritant on most days, invisible to the naked eye, but at its peak, one of the most powerful forces of nature.

To the minds of Kanjo and Firingu, the moment before their egg hatched felt like an eternity for every 2 seconds that the egg did not twitch or make any sort of movement. The air in the room felt stale, which was certainly a possibility considering the fact that their bodies blocked most of the door. To the other’s knowledge, they both were basically hyperventilating, and not just because this marked a moment in their lives that should have been monumental, but because recent events weighed on their minds. Recently, battles with the Druun had doubled in lethality, and it wasn’t unheard of to have an egg turned to stone in its cave, which was…well…terrifying. Every moment not spent in the safety of the river felt like a knife scraping along the dragon’s many vertebrae.

“Dear, just so you know, we could consider the fact that it isn’t today that the egg hatches, and that we are putting both ourselves and the egg in danger for absolutely no reason.” Kanjo told his blue mate. He was very concerned, and if he were to be honest, Firingu could get a little hot headed at times, and stubborn on the worst days.

Firingu looked at him as if he had grown two more heads to become one of those ridiculous monsters from the human stories that they called “hydras''. At that, he almost scoffed as he recalled when one of his human friends told him about this mythical creature and then had the audacity to ask if such a creature were real. He had already been bothered by the idea that such a creature could even be conceived of in the first place. And these humans could not agree on one thing no matter how many times he refuted them by asking if it were real by posing the same question, ‘how would it function biologically?’. No human, to this day, has given him a consistent answer. It either had a connected nervous system that connected three brains, which all worked in unison, or it was three separate personalities that had to agree upon one action, which he regarded as straight up idiotic. When he had brought up these flaws to them, they always responded with “Well what about magic?”. That was SO annoying. Magic wasn’t this godly energy that can do the impossible. Even his own magic had to abide by actual scientific properties. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he explained this, to both kids and adults, they always proclaim it to be magic and leave to tell their friends their ‘findings’. But he was getting off topic here. Back to the present he returned since his mate was yelling at him.

“I told you Kanjo! A mother always gets a distinctive feeling about when her egg is about to hatch, and today I got up with my mane all twirled up and my heart racing! I know this is the day.” Firingu spoke with a ferocity that not many would expect from the smaller dragoness, but she shattered expectations many times over. It was one of the things that endeared Firingu to Kanjo. He was about to make a rebuttal when they heard a tap, a sound so distinct that all arguing seemed pointless and useless in the magnitude of this development

Their long necks swiveled around to look at the small egg that lay before them, and after no activity for a moment, a whole 90 seconds, they started to second guess themselves. They led themselves into believing that the stress of the moment and their desperation to see their offspring had faulted their senses until they heard another tap, and another after precisely ten seconds. They both forgot each other for an instant and turned to their egg. The egg gave a twitch, no less than a millimeter, but to them, it felt like a massive leap.

The little light in the cave revealed an undulating shape beneath the nearly translucent shell, and the shell then gave a slight twitch again. The nest rustled as the twitching grew more and more frequent. A small fist seemed to be beating the shell from the inside, struggling to get out. A purple paw then burst out of the shell, and from what they could see, it was a forearm. 

“It's purple! He will be the spitting image of me! Or her, I guess.” Kanjo exclaimed. He was nearly jumping with excitement when another paw bashed out of the other side. Unlike the forepaw, this one was a light cyan, which confused them both. The egg wasn’t nearly big enough to have two dragons.

“Do you think there could be multiple colors on our offspring?” Firingu asked. Double toned dragons did exist, but they were rare and often had more abnormal magic. It wasn’t a generalization. Two toned dragons often had more powerful magic, but there was always a downside that often made the magic impractical to use, a literal double edged weapon. He feared the same might be true for their offspring. As the shell cracked more and more, a spider web of cracks splintered out from the two open points, and there in front of them was the result of their union.

It was a normal shaped dragonet, though he, or she since they had no idea, had two horns that jutted out from the same central point on their skull. Those were decidedly more common, however. Physically, they were the same, but the colors were what made it abnormal. A quick check by Firingu confirmed that it was a he. Rather than the strange process humans used, they checked around the base of their heads, where the neck met the lower jaw where there were two sets of ring-like indentations around the base of the throat. These differences would eventually fade with age, but males usually had only one of these lines while females had two. It was strange, but evolution itself was often strange. The mane, head, as well as the shoulders and forepaws of the young drake’s body were a light purple not too different from Kanjo’s mane, though this was his entire color scheme. The infant’s purple color went to about halfway around the belly, where it slowly faded into a light cyan that dominated his rear end and tail, which swished out behind him as he slowly got to his feet. 

The newly born dragon looked at both of them, and they saw a vein twitch on his head. It was very small, but it almost made him seem stressed out. This confused both of them. It had just entered the world, so he could not even distinguish what was right or wrong. Yet it was looking at them as if it was as stressed as the both of them. They couldn't distract themselves, though. This was an incredible thing! They let their hearts fill with love for their son, and they hugged him tightly, their feud and the entire world outside this moment irrelevant. Like a switch, their son then purred happily and nuzzled their chests as they embraced each other. 

“He’s perfect. I couldn’t care less about how he looks.  He is still my son, and I love him, regardless,” Firingu thought to herself. She tried to get a better look at him, but then was disturbed by the look on his face. He looked scared, but that was made irrelevant by the sudden screaming from the guards.

“Kanjo! Firingu! Get out of there! The Druun have breached the defenses! Get to the river! Lutuk has been turned into stone!” One of the guards, Hanja, she remembered, called into the den. With a sweeping motion, Firingu grabbed her son and held him close as she ran towards the river. The Druun frothed and steamed, a hideous, purple-smoking mass. There was no mistaking the dragons’ mortal enemies for anything else. She dodged a Druun as she made for the river. Her feet trampled the grass along the bank until she finally dove into the safety of the river. Now that she and her child were safe from the Druun, she turned around to see Kanjo pulling an injured dragon, Gapat, into the river behind him. They were also safe. 

She watched in fear as the Druun overran the camp. One or two dragons got turned into stone, and she watched helplessly as the Druun frothed and writhed on the riverbank. Their sanctuary was the water that surrounded them, and she was grateful that these manifestations of human cruelty and misery were unable to pass that threshold. 

“Love, it is time to go…”. Kanjo tugged on her shoulder, as if to tear her eyes away from her friends that had been turned into statues. They looked so peaceful, so serene, that she felt like she was going to be sick. They were frozen there, either dead or suffering in limbo, yet their stone faces were the image of contentment. She grit her teeth as he continued. “We have to go. We have to get our son to a safer place, behind the canal that the western humans are building. It will be a permanent fixture to the peoples that live there, and we won't have to rely on enchantments or hastily built crevasses.”

Firingu looked back at her frozen companions one last time, and she stood silently for twenty seconds, giving each one their moment of respect. “Jatka, Ioral, I will not forget your bravery.”

Kanjo joined her in this moment of grieving and waited patiently for her to start moving with him.  She did, holding their son to her chest. The child was crying, which was to be expected, but there was the question of why? It should have been scared, and no doubt about it. But what was it sad for? Those were tears of sadness, not tears of fear. This dragonet cried as if mourning the death of a friend, which it couldn’t possibly be. Then in an instant, it stopped crying entirely, letting out a growl of pure, unrestrained anger. He had no idea what was going on with his son, and it worried him. Was this his magic’s curse? Was he forced to feel emotions that had no personal, meaningful origin? Would he spend his life unable to have emotions of his own, or was it something….deeper?

Things started to add up in Kanjo’s mind. He and Firingu had been stressed out for their son, and they both were not that cagey about that fact. The child had come out of its egg, stressed as they were. When they turned things around and expressed affection towards the young drake, he in turn expressed affection. He had become sad and teary as Firingu had mourned her friends, but now he was angry? If he was reading this situation right, his son had the ability to read emotions, and he was reading Firingu’s indignation and anger towards the Druun for turning her friends to stone.

“Dear, I think our son has the power to read our emotions,” Kanjo said, looking at his mate. She turned to him with confusion, which was to be expected. No one they knew had ever heard of an ability like this. To Firingu, it was almost an insult that her son was to have such an outlandish ability.

“Don't be ridiculous, Kanjo! Look at him, he’s just fi-” Firingu stopped as she looked down towards her son, and he looked back at her with a look nearly copying her own. She was confused, which caused her son to tilt his head, in a similarly confused manner. She turned back to Kanjo, “I think you might be right. Oh…what do we do now? Our son has a power almost unthought of!”

“Dear, we will work this out, but I think that a good first step would be to give him a name. I know it must be hard for you to think about anything other than this tragedy, but we must push on for the sake of our son.” 

Firingu sighed. It hurt so much to ignore such a catastrophe, but she cared for her son and wanted the best for him. “Yes. I had an idea. I was thinking ‘Tarloc’ for a boy. If you have another name, I would be open to suggestions.”

Kanjo gave a small smile. Any sense of joy was very welcome in this instance, “Yes, Firingu. I like Tarloc.”. They smiled at each other as they stepped out of the river, well away from the Druun, especially since it now started to rain. They pressed their pads onto nothingness and felt a platform of hardened magic water form beneath their paws. They ran along the sky, the rain clouds had given way to a sun shower, which, after the battle, was a much needed relief. She laughed as she watched the newly named Tarloc whoop in joy as his mother held him close, traveling across the bright noon sky. The lands of Kumandra spread out before them, and it was beautiful. 

It was just…beautiful.

Hello guys! I’m not dead! I just started college so this won’t be my main focus. I thought I would throw something into the mix as my internet life has gotten a bit dull, and I wanted to try my hand at a fandom that I love. Tarloc was a character that I lent to AdmiralCole22 for his story No Greater Disaster (Discontinued, but hopefully not forever). I won’t have an upload schedule, so just be aware that I am no professional and will update at my urgency or leisure. 

Peace out!

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: A Dragon Divided

It was a beautiful day in Kumandra. Or the Fang region, at least. These strange humans…how they insisted on remaining separate when the dragons that they worshiped existed as a single tribe of unity was beyond him. Tarloc sighed, considering this particular quandary. It truly was a pity that humanity couldn’t remain united. The azure and violet dragon stood on top of a large cliff overlooking the capital city of Fang, and he pondered the history that had taken place on the cliff on which he now lay. It was the place where the legendary Sisudatu was killed by Princess Namaari. Shortly after, he himself had come to this area once before, and he could almost smell the anger in the air.

It was a most particular scent. It radiated a horrible smell like a sulfur cloud, yet it was almost unearthly. The place was also tainted by the feeling of betrayal, yet over it all, a bond between the two parties involved ran deeper than could be so easily destroyed. Princess Raya had come with the peace offering to reunite the Dragon Gem, which explained the undertone of calmness that had been overturned by disbelief and betrayal. Everyone had known that Namaari and Raya had become close over the night before everything went downhill.

Granted, he assumed that it had been built on a ruse to have Fang steal the Gem for themselves, and that division still kept Raya and Namaari apart even now. While they were friends, and respected each other as two future leaders should, they didn’t feel romantic attraction. At least, not yet. Tarloc had met with Raya and Namaari after a spot of trouble three years back, and he could sense that they still cared about each other, deeper than normal friends go. As he usually did, he did not outwardly point this out, as feelings were meant to be observed, not taken advantage of.

Hehe, or maybe he should do it, just for a spot of fun. Ah yes, but that was strange wasn’t it? There were always two sides to every story, right? One take on his possible interference was that he was making unnecessary drama between the two. Who didn’t love drama? Tarloc chuckled to himself as he stretched out, his long spine cracking from the motion, and he flexed his claws to undo their stiffness.

Most people would be confused by his train of thought, though he thought it quite funny. To him, his thoughts were simply unique, like his parents had told him before. He was a dragon with a very unique magical power. All living beings release pheromones or faint electrical signals from the brain when they think or feel a certain emotion, and his strong sense of smell and sight allowed him to read these emotions, in a sense. They had a term for it, empath, someone able to read emotions through telepathy, but that was just human nonsense. There was nothing like being able to read minds through telepathy, the wider terminology of empath. 

However, this came with a cost. For allowing him to read the emotions of others, the magic took the certainty of which emotions were his. He had two personalities within him. For the most part, they shared the same information. What their name was, who their family was, and who their close friends were. Also, all academic stuff and how to use magic and water platforms and all that. But a few things can escape the other personality. Recently learned information can sometimes lose itself in the transition between personalities like when he first learned the time he had to attend an embassy at the tail end of Tail. He overslept because, at that point, the other personality wasn’t aware of what the time meant and just went back to sleep.

“You sure like this spot, don’t you, Tarloc?” a familiar voice asked from behind him. He smiled. It was one of his friends from before the Druun turned them both to stone over 5 centuries ago. Her name was Keera, and she was a quirky one, which is probably why he and her were such great friends. 

Keera had the ability to change the currents of the river. Originally, this seemed like an incredible ability, allowing shipping on the river to be faster. As it turned out, however, the longer she used the ability, the more her coordination and health would deteriorate. The effect was exponential over long distances. The distance between Tail and Fang was too far for her to set them up, and the inevitable side effects were too much of a downside. She could propel boats that she accompanied along just fine, but she usually felt dizzy by the end of a long trip, so she wouldn’t do it that often. Her mane was also a bit weird. Instead of flowing down her neck like the manes of most dragons did, it seemed to curve around her neck in a spiral, almost like the currents that she could control.

“Well, even five years later, this place is still inlaid in our history, and where our fate was set in motion,” Tarloc replied cheerfully.

“Well, I see that I am dealing with Mr. Friendly here. Have you seen Tarloc?” Keera joked.

“He is right over here, right where the great Sisudatu was slain by the Fang Princess Namaari,” Tarloc replied in a somber tone. His personality swung back to the more reserved and somber tone of his other self.

Keera sighed. “Let's not focus on the negatives. By the way, Al-khan wanted to see you down at the camp. He says that Chief Benja wanted to speak to you about something regarding his daughter, Raya.”

“Really? Is she hurt?” Tarloc said, having a large amount of concern for the Heart princess that had saved the world by taking the initiative when nobody else had. For six years, she had chased after a mere legend that no one else believed anymore, which ended with her summoning Sisudatu.

“Nothing in how Benja made the request would suggest it. But if she was hurt, I doubt that it would be a physical injury if he didn’t request one of the healers. Get down to Al-khan and he will fill you in,” Keera finished up.

Tarloc nodded and rushed off to the camp. It was no secret that dragon camps were usually avoided by humans out of respect for their divine protectors. Al-khan was one of the lead dragon ambassadors to the humans. Dragons could intermingle with humans all they wanted, but in the reverse, there were a select few dragons that dealt with exclusive political matters when humans requested aid. Al-khan was one of them that was assigned to the northwestern camp.

After running for a couple of minutes, Tarloc entered the camp. Magical water platforms were really useful for traveling large distances in a short amount of time. The camp was surrounded by canals that the humans designed and had improved upon. The canals were approximately fifteen meters wide, child's play for a dragon who could either bound over it or just walk on water, but impossible for humans, or even the Druun, to jump across. While it was definitely agreed on by a large majority of the population that the Druun were gone, there was no guarantee that it would be forever. Fang had shown that running water was the best way to keep the Druun off since it formed an impassable barrier, and that didn’t always mean naturally formed rivers.

This particular camp was one of the first to see the canals built as it was the closest to Fang. Humans had overseen the procedure while dragons did a lot of the physical labor. It was no secret why. The mile wide camp had over four miles of borders to cover, and even that wasn't all of it as they still had to provide a source of running water, which was the river over two miles away, and then they had to make another channel that flowed back into the river. 

The first project took an entire nine months to complete even with the dragons doing most of it. After it was complete, Sisudatu and her siblings had come to inspect the project, and after it had been completed, they wanted proof that it would work. When he said “they”, he really meant Pengudatu, the oldest of the siblings and the one who had conceived the Dragon Gem in the first place. He had set up the camp so that the Dragon Gem’s protection would not cover the camp and the lands around the borders for ten meters after the canal. Several years of studying the power of the Dragon Gem allowed Pengu to manipulate its magic, to the point that he could designate an area that would not receive the Gem's protection. All warriors had been called in case everything went downhill. While the Druun had showed up, they were completely unable to cross the roaring canal. This innovation was a breath of relief for all. The dragons, who could fly, but couldn’t spend every moment in the skies, rejoiced in knowing that they could live in safety.

Shaking his head, he made his way to the ambassador’s quarters to be filled in on the request. Al-khan was sitting at his desk. He was a dull shade of turquoise, and his mane was freshly groomed. Humans were very adept at making little gadgets that they could also use, and a brush was one of those things. Dragon claws were simply not adept at shaping those pieces of metal and wood.

“Ah, Tarloc. I see that Keera has been diligent, and not chasing after anybody who catches her eye,” Al-khan said, putting some papers down, which bore the mark of Heart. Tarloc sighed. Keera wasn’t exactly the most attentive person in the world, but that didn’t give Al-khan the right to insult her. Tarloc kept his mouth shut, which was difficult to do considering his mood swinging from minor injustice to near overflowing rage and anger, barely restrained in his expression.

“I was told that Chief Benja has made a request of the dragons. About me in particular,” Tarloc started, not letting his quickly fading anger seep into his voice.

“Hmmm,” Al-khan pondered, and he gave no indication anything was wrong. Or if he did, he chocked it up to Tarloc’s split personality. “Yes, we received a message from Chief Benja just three hours ago. If you are wondering why it took so long, an ill fated bird flew into the paper as it was being carried back by Jan. We had to take some time to transcribe it, which was made difficult from all of the talon marks. Somehow it managed to mark a different word with a swipe, but that is beside the point. He made a request because, since you have met Raya before and left on favorable terms, Benja said it would be best for you to come. Raya has met with some personal turmoil, and Benja wants you to help her understand her own emotions. Can you do that?”

“Of course! It would be my honor to help!” Tarloc replied, his face splitting into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. How great it would be to see Raya again! And seeing the lands of Heart would be so exciting. They were just majestic this time of the year. Unfortunately, they no longer had the Dragon Gem to guard, as the Dragons had decided to keep it in an undisclosed location. Pengudatu had decided that they could not be trusted to not shatter it, again, whether by accident or inner conflict. The rulers of each tribe agreed without hesitation, knowing the dragon's decision was fair.

“Okay, Tarloc. You shouldn’t need to bring anything with you, so you can go now if you want. Once you get back, I want a report on what happened,” Al-khan told him in return. Ugh, paperwork. But that didn’t matter now! He was off to see Raya! 

With a joyous whoop as he came out the door, earning some strange looks from the dragons surrounding him, he rushed towards the canal and leapt in. The runoff went back towards the river, so he could just follow it since Fang was upstream from Heart.

For the next few hours, he swam in solitude, floating occasionally, just letting the currents take him where they needed to be. On one instance, he saw a green dragon flying overhead, and coincidentally, rain started forming in his wake. Pengudatu, it must be. He smirked and waved, and he could have sworn he saw Pengu wave back, but he could just be misreading things.

A few more hours later, he came up on the shores of Heart. It truly represented its namesake. All the damage that the Druun had inflicted upon the besieged land was no more. It surged with vitality and strength, and as a massive trading center, second only to Talon, it truly was Kumandra’s heart. A few fishermen looked at the dragon and immediately bowed down in respect. Perks of being a dragon was that most humans were in awe of them. He gave a respectful nod in return and carried on his way. Along his path, he saw three dragons talking to a large group of kids. They seemed to be acting out a story, and every so often, the kids would break in applause. Tarloc chuckled to himself.

As he walked to the steps of the Heart palace, a few guards walked over to Tarloc, gave him a bow, and then went back to their stations. He then noticed that Chief Benja was walking over to him. He limped a little as he walked, an old injury somewhat impeding his ability to walk. He stood straight and gave the two toned dragon a respectful bow.

“Thank you, Great Water Dragon, for heeding my call. I am ever thankful that you have arrived here so soon. Though, I only asked for one dragon, not two, but that is no problem.” Benja said, his tone filled with awe and respect for the dragons.

Tarloc was, admittedly, a bit confused. He said that he had asked for one dragon, not two. Was that a dig at his dual personality, or had another dragon come here by complete chance? He decided to ask, “With due respect, Chief Benja of Heart, do you mean to joke about my two personalities, or has another dragon come here already with similar intentions?”.

Benja laughed good naturedly, “Oh no, that wasn’t a dig at you. Another dragon has come here, and I honestly should have expected her to arrive. She always did have a sense for when Raya was in a tough spot. They are both in Raya’s bedroom. You know where it is, I presume?”

“Yes, thank you, Benja. I will do my best to help.” That solved that mystery. A female dragon who had an inclination to, and history with, helping Raya? Anyone would know who that was, and he was quite excited to see her. It had been a hot minute.

“Come on, Sisu! I don’t know how I’m supposed to be calm about this!” Raya's voice came from her room and had quite some force to it. He looked at the door, and he could swear that he saw it move. He could sense no anger from her, only panic.

“Raya, girl, you can do this. Come on. You trekked through Kumandra for six whole years, trying to find me, and this is what gets you down? You should be excited for this! I certainly am!” Sisudatu’s voice responded. She seemed to be amused, playful even, with an undertone of concern. Of course, he could sense these emotions easily. They came to him as a bee did to a sunflower, instinctually.

 “You annoy me, Sisu, especially when you are right.”. After he heard Raya say that, Tarloc gently knocked on the door. 

“Ugh… if it is another one of those ‘mediators’ that my dad sent, I am going to whack them on the head,” he heard Raya’s disgruntled voice from behind the door. She slammed open the door, which swung inwards. Fortunately for his nose, he might add. She looked disgruntled and unclean. Her eyes had bags underneath them, and her hair was dirty and unruly. She had grown from the traveling princess that had barely survived the Druun. She was a bit taller, slightly more lean, and more muscular. Her face hadn’t changed much though. “What's all this abou-!”

Raya stopped her sentence as she looked up at Tarloc, who was looking at her with a slightly amused expression, which only became more amused as she hastily bowed down to him. He snickered at her unwavering loyalty towards dragons, no matter her personal state. “I humbly beseech your forgiveness for my inadequate appearance, Great Dragon!”

“Hehe, hello Raya, and Sisudatu.” Tarloc greeted in return. Sisu had noticed the newcomer. She hadn’t changed a bit. Except by gaining a lot more confidence in herself.

“Heya, Tarloc!” Sisu exclaimed. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you!”

“Hello Sisu, it has been a while, though I feel sad that this is more than a friendly visit. Although it could be perceived that way for a second purpose. I am here because of a request from Chief Benja. He informed me that you have been having some mental issues, and from what I have just overheard, I have no reason to disbelieve him.”

Raya sighed. “Alright, I guess I should tell you. Not that I could hide anything from you, anyways,” she conceded and went back into her room. It was the definition of disorganized, which was to be expected. She was in a state of mental turmoil, so her room organization definitely was not on her list of priorities. Maps and papers lay on the floor, her bed was unmade, and her things were scattered on their shelves.

“So, what do you believe has caused you this mental strain?” Tarloc began. He decided a straightforward approach might be the best way to get to the bottom of the issue. Raya looked away, distinctly uncomfortable. He figured she might be awkward about saying it, so he turned to Sisu, “Do you mind acting as a proxy or medium of communication. I would imagine Raya would be more willing to tell you everything than she would me. Do you and Raya agree to this, Sisu?”

“Raya, is that okay with you? You know I wouldn’t do anything bad for you,” Sisu said. A gentle grin came over her face as Raya looked up.

“Yes, Sisu, you can. I just can’t say it for some reason…” Raya agreed, nodding to Sisu.

Sisu nodded, and the gentle smile turned into an excited expression of glee. Tarloc was surprised by the sudden change, sometimes Sisu had even bigger mood swings than he did, but he was even more surprised by what she had to say next, “My girl, Raya, was told that Benja intends for her to be Chieftess soon. Within the next month, she is going to be declared the new leader of Heart!”.

Tarloc’s giddy and friendly side took over, that statement and Sisu’s frankly infectious smile acting as a catalyst, and responded, “Why, Raya! I never would have imagined that this is what is causing all the issues lately. You should be dancing around the palace in happiness! Instead, you are sulking in your room? Why?”

Raya gave him a glare and he immediately reared his head. In hindsight, his outburst might make it seem like he was invalidating Raya's personal feelings and declaring his own views in a rather insensitive way. “I apologize. I just got caught up in the moment. Let us continue the conversation on neutral terms. Is that okay with you?”.

Raya didn’t say or do anything. Sisu then got up and wrapped her noodle-like body around Raya, letting the feel of her dear friend relax her nerves. She then gave a slow nod of her head. Tarloc sat a respectful distance away and kept his tone neutral and courteous, “I understand that undergoing such change is a stressful event, but surely you understand that it had to happen someday. Benja has also been preparing for such an outcome. Is your turmoil because you think that the training was inadequate, or that you feel like it is still too soon or sudden?”

As the proxy, Sisu responded to the question, “She thinks that she will never have the mind pf a politician, and her reasons why generally point to the six years she spent as a warrior, fighting off every tribe in her attempts to find and revive me. Those six years are years that she wasn’t preparing. She is more skillful than some of the guards stationed to guard her. She doesn’t think she can, or wants to, give up her warrior life forever.” Raya gave a nod of confirmation to this.

Tarloc sighed, letting the info dump rattle in his brain, as he picked them apart and determined which parts he should focus on. In the end, he figured an argument that merged the two points he wanted to make, that her warrior skills were still useful, and that life as a politician could be positive rather than the personal hell that she thought it was. “I agree Raya, those six years were a life unsuited to that of the regular Chief or Chieftess, but it also gives you an advantage. Think of it this way, warriors and politicians are not so different. They fight numerous battles, but one uses words, the other, weapons. You know the phrase, "Words cut deeper than a knife?” In the end, they are just two different forms of combat.”

“I'm not sure what you are getting at,” Raya said. She looked confused now. Tarloc’s horns glowed a faint cyan, indicating the deeper usage and focus of his magic. Raya was a warrior of confidence, but in reality, that confidence came from her ultimate goal of saving the world. When the Druun was no longer an issue, Raya had felt purposeless. She merely went with the motions that Benja had been teaching her, but she had been looking for another source of motivation and purpose over the course of those five years. Now that she was to be Cheiftess, she was left uncertain and afraid of this new source of conviction that had always seemed so far away from her. After a few more seconds of using his magic, Tarloc spoke again.

“What I am saying is that you have the capability to do what Benja has done for years. Politicians do use arguments, yes, but a lot of their power is built on the respect that they have gained from both their people and the other tribes. You of all people have that advantage. Which other Chief or Chieftess can say that they spent six years, starting when they were in their early teens, fighting and searching for something that would save all of Kumandra while they were attacked by all sides? Your physical state has not degraded either. That is also a good sign. You will be well balanced, a scale tipped perfectly in the middle. The people of Heart have nothing but good things to say about you. When you do have to argue, do not think that you are fighting alone. Think of it as you coming with the backing of an army that would metaphorically protect you.”

“But what if I still don’t know what to do?” Raya asked, as she put her face in her palms.

Tarloc put on a small smile, “Then ask for help. No man can know everything. Even us dragons are not all knowing, though we often do know more than humans would. We could never anticipate the breaking of the Gem, nor how the Druun work as a unit rather than rabid beasts. And you still have Benja. He would be more than happy to mentor you as you make your place in the political arena. Even Benja asks for help. And besides, even if Benja is clueless, you could always ask the dragons for help on occasion. We have no real reason to say no.”

Raya hugged Sisu close as she smiled. Tarloc’s words finally seemed to have broken through her depression and insecurities. Sisu hugged her back, letting Raya decompress from the stress.

“Thanks, Tarloc. I think Raya really needed that speech,” Sisu said gratefully.

Tarloc smiled. “I think I may stay in Heart for a while. I wouldn’t want to miss the coronation of Chieftess Raya of Heart,” he said the last part in an almost joking and sarcastic manner.

Raya pulled away from Sisu and looked at Tarloc with a similarly grateful expression. Hearing her future title said so sarcastically seemed to be the key to freeing her from her indecision. The title that once loomed over her now seemed perfectly in reach.

Deciding to leave, Tarloc bowed to Raya and Sisu and exited the room. Chief Benja was in a room with his advisors. Soon to be Raya’s advisors, he realized. While it was not uncommon for a leader to pick their own advisors after a change in leadership, it was generally encouraged for a new leader to use the old advisors for about two months. First, so they could both judge their values and to know who to replace.  And second, to know what to look for in new advisors.

“Hello, Chief Benja. I am happy to inform you that Raya has recovered, and I imagine that she will be relaying the same message to you shortly.”

The old chief’s face gave a warm smile, filled with love for his daughter. “Advisor Gera, you are dismissed.” He turned to Tarloc. “While I did not request anything else, I would like to discuss another matter with you. If you would, walk with me please.”

“Of course. I had decided that I would stay a few weeks in order to see Raya’s ceremony. I haven’t yet had the pleasure of seeing one,” Tarloc replied, smiling.

Benja smiled in return and started walking with Tarloc following behind. They exited the palace, and Tarloc found himself moving over a pretty familiar route. The trek through the mountains that Raya and Namaari had traveled that night over nine years ago. They walked through the broken doorway, the traps that had once prevented any visitors now lay long triggered or broken from the flow of time. Chief Benja walked into a familiar chamber. Tarloc recognized it as the place where Heart had once stored the Dragon Gem, protecting it from the other tribes. Of course, being a dragon, he had no idea why they had to safeguard it if it distributed life and protection equally across Kumandra, sealing the Druun no matter where it went.

“This place… it brings back memories. Raya would try to ‘steal’ the Gem, and I would guard it. She was very creative at times. Once she used a dummy fashioned out of straw and twine to activate traps. Of course, she had forgotten that it could only be used once.”

Tarloc chuckled. “I could see that. Raya has a good head on her shoulders, and an even better heart in her chest.”

“Which is why I wanted to ask this of you. Sometimes I doubt that I have adequately trained her enough, but my confidence seems to come from somewhere. You can read emotions, better than I can read my own, at least. I ask this of you, Great Tarloc, that you tell me what I am truly feeling. My emotions, my thoughts, everything you can. I need to know whether I am doing the right thing.”

Tarloc nodded, lowering his head to Benja, “Hold my horn. Or both, doesn’t matter. It will help.”

Benja grasped both of his horns as they glowed a faint purple. He let his senses stretch over the Chief in front of him. He sensed the normal ones that he expected from someone through his struggles. Insecurity, fear, concern, protectiveness, all these things he expected. He dug deeper, leaving nothing unobserved. He sensed the loss that came from him losing his little girl, but also pride in knowing she was growing up so strong. He felt Benja’s resentment towards himself for having to put this responsibility upon her, but respect for the ancient traditions. Benja’s core, of his certainty that Raya was ready, finally revealed itself. Like the pearl of a clam, it seemed to emit a radiance. He slowly pulled away from Benja, a soft smile on his face.

“Chief Benja, your emotions rebel because you have doubt in your own capability, not Raya’s. But through it all, you have something that many people believe is something unnecessary: faith. Your faith is stronger than you give it credit for. It was faith that made you want to give Raya the position of Chieftess. It was faith that gave you the strength to hold Heart together after the Druun were banished the second time. It was faith that made you sheathe your weapon when the other tribes tried to steal the gem. And it was your faith, and love, in Raya that guided you when you sacrificed yourself to save her. The same faith guides you now. You know that through everything, Raya will persevere, to grow stronger, and build herself up no matter what tries to break her down.”

Chief Benja shed a couple tears of joy upon hearing this speech. He kneeled in front of Tarloc. “Thank you, Divine Dragon, for helping this foolish old man see sense. I am grateful.”

Tarloc nodded in return. Then, of course, his stomach growled. “You just had to ruin the moment, stomach. You got any food? I am hungry.”

Benja replied in a joking manner, “I have some jerky that I brought in case I got hungry.”

“Not that hungry,” Tarloc replied, laughing.

Hello guys! I know that this might seem like I’ll be posting my works often, but that’s not the case. I wanted to try my hand at a “slice of life” arc, and flesh out Tarloc’s character.

First few chapters will probably be centered in Heart, and politics, but who knows. I may decide to kick the plot into overdrive, depending on what I feel like.

Peace out!

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Living Two Lives

Lana belongs to her owner: AdmiralCole22

After the conversation with Chief Benja, Tarloc walked towards the centerpiece of Heart. He let his magic wash over himself as he entered the complex, the community’s peaceful trading and personal relations gave a lot of positive emotions, meaning his magic filled him with a good feeling. Ah yes, that was another one of his magic’s qualities. Oftentimes, when he was actively sensing emotions, other people’s emotions could influence his own personality. Thankfully, Heart was always a positive influence, except today apparently.

“Get out of here! My products are for people who deserve them! Not a thief!” a feminine voice yelled. Another voice yelled back, a male this time, but he couldn’t decipher what he said because he was overwhelmed with the two sources of animosity. Humans always seemed more inclined towards hostility rather than cooperation and peace. He walked over, hoping he could resolve the issue.

“Just because my tribe did something horrible over a decade ago does not make me a thief!” A male yelled at a female shopkeeper. The man was tall, thin, and had a beard. His blue eyes stared into the woman’s gray eyes. She was normal looking, average height, but her azure ear piercings were the most striking pieces. On the table lay an assortment of earrings and bracelets, all made, it seemed, by hand. That’s not to say it was low quality. He was actually impressed by the woman’s handiwork, but compliments aside, clearly they were not going to talk things out like rational people.

“Pardon me, what appears to be the issue here?” Tarloc asked the two after excusing his way through the small crowd of people that had gathered, and been disturbed by, the argument. The two arguers looked over, assuming that Tarloc had been a human and was trying to break them up. Their aggressive looks quickly dampened though, as they held up the usual hand sign of respect.

“There is no problem, Divine Dragon. Only that this shopkeeper is refusing me a purchase that was promised to me!” the man yelled in the direction of the shopkeeper.

“Don’t lie! Your request was delivered by a man from Heart! How do I know that you aren’t trying to steal the product from an honest and good spirited customer! I need verification!'' The obvious hostility was nearly overloading Tarloc’s senses. A burning fire in his heart surged through his veins. His jaw tensed and his teeth ground together. He tried to fight the overwhelming surge of anger, but his split personality absorbed this extreme emotion, shifting. The two arguing humans stopped at the sound of a low growl emanating from his throat.

“Stop this meaningless quarrel ... .NOW.”, he growled in a dangerous calm. His horn glowed an ominous blue, different from the warm and welcoming hue that he had used on Benja. His anger froze the two humans in place, and he searched deep into the man’s emotions. Between the fear from being at the receiving end of a dragon’s anger, there was a large amount of indignation from him. He clearly knew that this was his order, and he was furious. He turned to the shopkeeper to confirm his suspicions, and yes, the shopkeeper’s indignation and fury were baseless in who he was, they based themselves on what tribe they came from. Generalist emotions were a lot less sharp than emotions targeted at specific people.

“He is the right one. Give him what he paid for.” Tarloc’s voice was so icy and cold, that the shopkeeper slid the desired item over to the edge of the wooden table. The man very slowly grabbed it, keeping both eyes on Tarloc’s bared teeth. He slipped said item, which was a beautiful bracelet embedded with emeralds in the shape of a dragon. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the man turned out of sight. He then refocused on the shopkeeper.

“Do not discriminate based on a person’s background. You agreed to the deal. Follow through. Dishonesty is detestable.” Tarloc gave one last growl of intimidation, before leaving with a flick of his tail. The crowd parted easily, but they made an active effort to avoid him, not wanting to interact with a recently angered dragon.

“Well that went well…not…” He muttered to himself. Emotions only last for a scientific total of 90 seconds for humans, but dragons had a wider kaleidoscope of emotional reactions, able to change emotions quicker and more fluently. Instead, it was every 15 seconds that their emotions reset. Without the open hostility, and surrounded by more mundane emotions of the Heart center, his personality shifted. He thought to himself, “What the hell was that? Nice going idiot…” . He felt a brief moment of panic, as he usually did when other people’s emotions controlled him. He had to take a moment, breathing in and out in a rhythm.

“Hey…Mr Dragon?” a voice came from below his face. He looked, and a little girl came walking out of the bustling streets from the small circle around him.

“Hel…hello there.” Tarloc was actually relieved. His horn glowed, letting himself be filled from this little girl’s happiness and awe at himself. He giggled as it only increased as the girl saw his horn glow.

“Cool glowy horn!” the girl said. She couldn’t be older than 6, yet she walked up to him with no apprehension. She hugged his leg and said, “So fluffy!”.

Tarloc snickered. After what he had gone through a few minutes previously, this was just what the doctor ordered. He then heard someone calling for someone else. There was motherly concern in their voice.

“Kinja! Kinja! Where are you?” the feminine voice shouted.

“Well, little one, I think your mother is calling for you…” Tarloc said to the girl, Kinja, and she looked up.

“Ok. Thanks, Mr. Dragon!” the girl said, then wandered back towards the voice. Soon enough, he saw her reunite with her mom, and he saw her point to Tarloc. The mother saw him, and he gave a polite wave of his hand. She bowed down in response as the girl, who was hoisted on her shoulder, gave a wave. Tarloc smiled as the woman left with Kinja. He continued walking. Soon, he came to a restaurant. The store owners were happy to give him a meal free of charge. A pork meal, supersized of course since he was a dragon. He thanked the owners and said their food was great, which they were very thankful for. He then saw with some humor that they put up a sign over their pork option saying “Dragon Approved”. He figured he’d let the humans have that sign. It was a good meal.

Suddenly, people started running towards the docks. Some event seemed to be taking place. Tarloc thought it might be interesting to follow. He saw a large boat make its way slowly to the docks. He recognized a few of the dragons that helped pull it into the docks. The currents had become a bit choppy, so he thought they might have just called in a bit of help at first, until he saw exactly who had been helping. Praneedatu and Jagandatu. His mouth admittedly opened in shock that the boat, despite its size, coincidentally had 2 of the most famous dragons to help pull it into shore.

“Hey! Tarloc!” a voice said, and Tarloc recognized this voice. Lana was a human mercenary from Fang that he had met around the same time that he had met Pengu for the first time, “What a coincidence I would find you here!”. She seemed especially happy about something, and Tarloc would quickly find out why. Chieftess Virana herself was walking out of the boat, and Princess Namaari was right behind her. Such an important visitor, no wonder the entire crowd was talking amongst themselves. Jagan and Pranee flanked the 2 members of Fang Royalty, and proceeded towards the palace of Heart. Tarloc followed, and Lana was right next to him.

“What is going on?” Tarloc was keeping his magic off, knowing that the heightened emotions were dangerous for his split personality.

“You will find out soon enoouughhh.” Lana teased. Tarloc rolled his eyes good naturedly as the procession reached the palace. The guards gave a bow of respect to the dragons and let the procession pass, knowing it must be important if it was flanked by 3 dragons.

Chief Benja looked pleasantly surprised by Virana and Namaari’s appearance. Virana had aged over the years. Her youth was no longer as apparent as it once was, and her face showed it. Her skin was a bit more rough and wrinkled. Namaari, on the other hand, looked like a warrior in her prime. Much like Raya, she had grown taller and her muscles, while still lean, were larger. They both wore formal attire, which Tarloc noted Namaari looked distinctly uncomfortable in.

“Greetings, Chief Benja, it has been a while since we last met face to face.” Virana gave a respectful nod of her head to the Chief of Heart.

“All in good will, Chief Virana. I am pleasantly surprised. Had I known you were coming, I would have had a meal prepared.”

“Your surprise is justified. I personally wasn’t aware we would be here either when I woke this morning. I intended to go to Talon, but a storm was forecast by the people and I didn’t want to waste my preparations, so I decided to come to the next place on my list,” Virana responded.

“Very well. What is it you came to do on this fine day?” Benja responded.

“I am so proud to inform you that in four weeks’ time, my daughter, Princess Namaari will be taking my place as Chieftess of Fang.”

The silence that followed that monumental statement was so unbearably silent, that Tarloc could swear he heard the clanking of plates from a few rooms over. After attuning to the smallest of sounds, Chief Benja’s clap seemed like a clap of thunder. Slowly, Benja started to applaud Namaari, who flushed in embarrassment and looked away. Suddenly, the doors to the room slammed open. Raya came in with Sisu, and she looked like she had some words to say with her dad, but froze at the sight of Namaari, and vice versa. They then ran at each other, and the old friends embraced.

“Namaari,” Raya said. She had most likely not seen Namaari for a long time. They had both been occupied with getting the nuances of their tribes ingrained in their mind, so there wasn't really time for any of them to meet up again.

“Raya. I’m so glad you're here. So what’s going on, ‘Dragon Nerd’?” Namaari said playfully with a noticeable glance at Sisu, who was of course smiling from seeing the two friends reunite.

“Not much, ‘Princess Undercut’,” Raya said in the same joking manner.

“Well, that nickname isn’t gonna stick for much longer, Raya.” Namaari laughed as they pulled away from each other.

Raya, though initially confused by that statement, eventually realized what she was implying, and considering the huge change that she was currently undergoing, there was quite a bit of irony where that was involved.

“Let me guess, you are being made Chieftess, too?” Raya asked.

Namaari smiled, “Yes! I have been waiting my whole life for…wait, you mean to tell me that YOU are being made chieftess as well?” Namaari only realized the entirety of what Raya had said halfway through speaking.

Raya laughed. “Yeah, in just a few weeks, I am being made Chieftess Raya of Heart,” she said her title in a mock, posh voice that made Benja chuckle a little bit.

Namaari was interested. “Same as me. Cheiftess Namaari of Fang. I bet you will be all up in making sure every fact about dragons is known in the curriculum of schools.” Virana tensed as she heard that phrase. Though Raya knew it was not an insult, Virana saw it slightly differently. A wave of stress flowed over her, which Tarloc could sense passively.

“Namaari! Do not insult a future Chieftess, especially from a tribe which we have a rocky history with.” Ah, now that made sense. Virana didn’t want her daughter to come off as immature or impulsive and wanted her daughter to be at her best for their tribe. After the whole Druun issue had come to an end, there were many cries from the tribes to have Namaari put on trial for stealing the gem and killing Sisu. 

However, Virana had then publicly claimed to take responsibility for her daughter’s actions. She admitted that it was only on her orders that Namaari had befriended Raya to steal the gem and took the crossbow to capture Sisu and the gem pieces for Fang. It was at this point in making said speech that the dragons had sent Sisu and her family to calm the situation. Sisu had made quite an imprint on the people by saying that she, who had every right to have been more angry at Namaari and her mother than anyone, forgave them for everything. The cries for them to pay for their crimes had died out, and the matter had been resolved, give or take a few lingering traces of anti-Fang sentiment. Virana had taken them all for her daughter, and Tarloc could do nothing but admire her for taking all that hatred for the sake of her daughter and tribe’s future.

“Yes mother, my mistake.” Namaari responded, bowing her head.

“Now, Virana, it is quite alright. They are friends, and no harm was intended,” Benja said. The mood seemed to calm a little bit.

“Yes, well, I would like to thank you for greeting us so cordially. I think we shall stay for dinner. Do you have somewhere we might stay until then?”

“Of course. Raya will show you to your rooms. I will alert my chefs to start making a feast for us all. Let all of Kumandra rejoice in the rise of two new Chieftesses,” Benja proclaimed.

Virana nodded in thanks.  Then, she and Namaari followed Raya out of sight, and Tarloc was sure that he could see a mischievous glint in Raya and Namaari’s eyes. He chuckled. This place was simply incredible. He then recoiled so much, he nearly fell over. A strange scent assaulted his nostrils. It felt…odd. It was emotion, and yet, not? It seemed to have come on a draft, it was so very wrong. He reached out with his senses, and yet, he couldn’t find the source. That was indeed very concerning. No scent or emotion was this brief, neither did they come from literally nowhere. He did know one thing, both personalities were not liking it whatsoever. It didn’t fuel any of his personalities.

“Tarloc, you okay?” he heard a voice ask. He then realized that he was on the floor…odd. He didn’t remember falling over, nor having made any conscious effort to fall over. Had he blacked out? No…he remembered everything clearly. He had simply blinked, started to use his magic, and had apparently fallen over. He blinked a few more times to clear his vision. Lana was standing over him, and Sisu had a paw on his forehead, apparently feeling for any sort of fever or affliction.

“Yeah…” Ugh, was that his voice? It sounded dry as fallen leaves. He cleared his throat a few times, both to reaffirm what was happening and to get his voice back to normal. “Yeah, Lana, I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

Sisu looked quite concerned. “Buddy, your forehead wasn’t hot, it was completely cold. Like, stone cold. I don’t know of any diseases that can do that to a dragon.”

Lana spoke up. “I saw him recoil and try to use his magic before he fell over. Maybe he was disoriented when he tried to use his magic, and that was the result?”

Pranee decided to add her opinion. “His ability IS rather anomalous…no offense intended, Tarloc.”

“None taken.”

“So what I think happened was that your ability must have been triggered by something. Your ability works passively from what I understand, so you must have sensed something strange. You then tried to enhance it to see what it was, and the resulting feeling caused you to fall,” Pranee theorized.

In all honesty, Tarloc thought that was a pretty solid theory. It certainly would explain a lot of things, but it didn’t explain why he could sense it with his magic. It wasn't a pure emotion. His magic explicitly targeted emotions, nothing else. At least, that was what everyone, including himself, understood about his power.

He was then distracted by the clashing of blades, but there was no hostility coming from where he was hearing them. Curious, he, Sisu, and Lana walked over to a small open section. Namaari had changed out of her formal attire and was now clashing blades with Raya. Her dual blades moved with all the ferocity of a dragon, but Raya’s whip sword flowed just like the tides of the mightiest river.

“I'm assuming this is a sparring match and not an actual fight to the death?” Tarloc asked.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Raya said as she locked blades with Namaari’s pincer movement. This brief distraction gave Namaari an opportunity to shift her stance so that Raya’s force was swung off to the side, doing a full twist, Raya was sent to the right as Namaari came at her stumbling opponent’s back. Raya twisted in the air, curling up for a roll which she used to her advantage. Planting her feet as she came out of the roll, she caught Namaari’s attack as it came towards her. She caught it on the hilt of her sword, the blade an inch from her hand. The defense had also apparently been the finishing move, as the blade rested to Namaari’s chest, and Raya had the hand on the button that would jettison it to its whip form. Every advantage belonged to Raya here, and Namaari dropped her swords in surrender.

“Alright, dep la. You win this round,” Namaari conceded.

“Yes! I win!” Raya said, apparently gleeful at her win.

“Dare I ask what you two were fighting over?” Sisu asked innocently.

“We were fighting over who gets to sit on your right side at dinner tonight,” Namaari explained.

Sisu looked incredibly confused at this. To be frank, Tarloc was, too, though he could detect an undercurrent of humor in their sentences. “I have two sides, remember? You can sit on either one of them.”

Raya seemed to find this incredibly funny, and all of her mirth was causing Tarloc to be quite giddy himself, randomly chuckling to himself. “Remember what happened last time you ate over? And the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that...” Raya trailed off, and Tarloc realized that Sisu was distinctly embarrassed about something.

“Sisu, what exactly are they talking about?” Tarloc asked, much like a child having discovered a secret stash of cookies, giddy with excitement.

“Umm, it’s nothing! Nothing really!” Sisu was clearly trying to hide something.

“Alllriiggghtt….” Tarloc trailed off, dropping the issue, for all of 5 seconds before immediately turning to Raya and asking the same question to which Sisu made a funny noise so hilarious that Tarloc burst out laughing. It was sort of a “Marreeep!”.

After calming down from the noise, Raya answered, still chuckling, “Sisu cannot resist this soup we always make, and every time she tries it, she asks for more, and more, until she faints over, crashing down on the person next to her. And it is always on the left side. So Namaari here is gonna be crushed by Sisu Soup-Snorter over here.” Sisu was turning a bit red as Tarloc chuckled.

“Ah, so Raya, may I sit on your right side then? I have something to discuss with you tonight,” Tarloc asked, trying to shake the giddiness off of himself, not fully succeeding, but well enough to ask.

“Sure. I am sure that the chefs are hard at work already.”

A few hours later, the chefs had indeed created a truly massive feast for the visiting dignitaries and the dragons. Tarloc chuckled as the soup was passed out, and Sisu eyed it obviously. Raya chuckled as Chief Benja raised to give a small speech before the feast could commence.

“I would like to say a few words before we dine tonight. Before our wondrous dragons, who grace us by sitting here at our table alongside us, I would like to raise a toast to the future Chieftesses of their tribes, Namaari of Fang and Raya of Heart.” The dragons each gave a nice bit of applause, and even Sisu looked up from her bowl of soup to applaud her best friends. “Now, I would also say this. Though they both come from different regions, different peoples, and different tribes, nobody could say that they aren’t the very best of friends. These two princesses are not just the future of their tribes, but of all of Kumandra. With them, I find hope that we can reunite as Kumandra once more. I raise this toast for Kumandra, and hope that they will live to see our peoples unite as one. To Kumandra!”

“To Kumandra!” The dragons even joined in and raised special ceremonial goblets that did not hold alcohol or any special drink, merely to join in on the toast. Of course Sisu was focusing on the soup in front of her, and when she figured it out, she missed the goblet and held up a..piece of bread.

The table had a nice good laugh at that and started to eat. Sisu obviously started to consume the soup at a very fast pace. Tarloc laughed and took a bit of pork and started to eat. Raya was glancing over at Namaari, who looked ever more nervous as Sisu continued to eat more and more. Raya laughed at her expression and turned to Tarloc.

“You said you wanted to speak with me?” Raya asked Tarloc curiously.

“Yes, and it is about something I think may affect me negatively. Have you noticed anything new? Anything wrong? Something that shouldn’t belong?” Tarloc asked.

“Is this a test from my dad or is this something legitimate?” Raya asked cautiously.

Tarloc shook his head. “No, it is not from your father. If it was, it would have come from him personally.”

Raya shook her head after a moment of thought. “No, I do not believe so. Is it something related to dragons?”

Tarloc did not respond for a second, chewing on a piece of steak in thought. He felt it crumble under his jaws, the taste of it, the texture of the char, all making him focus. “Not yet, I don’t think. There was a very odd scent. Just after you left, my magic caught some sort of foreign presence. It felt like an emotion, yet it was grounded in a physical object. I know you might not know of something like this, but it was worth it in my eyes to check with you.”

Raya’s conflict showed in her eyes. “No, I am sorry, Tarloc. I don’t know anything about it. I am sorry that I can’t do more.”

“Raya, don’t say that. You ran around the continent for 6 years trying to bring Sisu back. You deserve a rest. You’ve done enough. Let someone else worry about it.” He gently patted her on the head, which calmed her down a bit. She didn’t like being clueless, but she did know that this was something far beyond her ken.

As the feast went on, Sisu began wobbling in her seat, and Namaari began constantly looking back and forth between her own meal and Sisu so much that she inevitably missed her mouth with her food and smudged her cheek, which Raya found quite amusing.

“Alright, I think everyone has had enough for tonight,” Benja said as the Dragons were finishing up. “Thank you all for com-”

He was interrupted as a loud crash signified exactly what Raya had predicted. Sisu was laying off to her left side, unconscious with Namaari trapped under her head. Raya got a good deal of humor out of this, and Namaari begrudgingly found it kind of funny, as well. As they were tidying up, Virana asked that they not leave just yet.

“While I did inform you that I came here because of Talon’s unfortunate situation, there is a matter of much more importance that decreed that we travel here instead of another Tribe.” she said after the chef’s had cleared the table. The dragons felt obligated to stay, out of politeness.

“Really? I thought nothing meant more to you than your daughter’s announcement to become the next Chieftess of Fang,” Benja said, confused but willing to accommodate her.

Virana continued, now looking rather grave, “A few weeks ago, a man was stabbed in his own home. He is alive, for those who are wondering.”

A collective sigh of relief was given, as they were all thankful that Virana wasn’t about to tell them about a murder story. But then Tarloc felt it again….that sensation. It penetrated his mind, and felt so wrong... He forcibly stopped his magic from detecting it, but it was very hard to do. He couldn’t do this all the time, but if he was in a crowded room, he would concentrate on not feeling emotions. He was so busy focusing, he was confused when everyone was looking at him.

“Tarloc, this is the second time you have reacted to something unknown tonight,” Lana observed.

“I know, but I cannot place where it is coming from.” Tarloc sighed.

Virana looked incredibly upset for some reason, “I believe that Tarloc might be reacting to the object of tonight’s discussion. My guards are bringing in said person that I spoke of a few moments ago.”

Tarloc was confused. First of all, Virana had brought a recently attacked man with her to Heart, and she expected he, of all dragons, might know something about it? He expanded his senses, like standing so still, you can feel the air in your hair. He felt 4 people marching in formation, their firmness and loyalty tinged the air like the scent of coming rain. Yet, despite this, he heard 5 pairs of footsteps. Was someone tapping their foot?

It ended up not being what Tarloc had been expecting, in a way that definitely creeped him out.There were, indeed, five people that came in. Four walked in a square formation, each bearing the mark that designated them as warriors and guards of Fang. In the middle was a man, well into his fifties. He had a receding hairline, and his brown hair had started turning gray with age. But the most disturbing thing in his physical appearance was his eyes. They looked…dead. They still looked around the room, taking in everything, but there was no excitement. No twinkle behind his eyes, no excited gazing back and forth, not even a widening of awe at so many dragons gathered together under one roof.

“Chieftess Virana, if I may ask, why do I need to be here?” the man asked. Benja looked concerned. The man spoke as if talking to an equal. He showed no respect, but no derision. He was talking, and that was it. There was no heart in his voice.

Tarloc on the other hand was confused, because this man…was nearly invisible. Not to his physical eyes, of course. He was quite easy to see. However, when he reached out with his senses to try to figure out why he had only been able to sense four, he was stunned when his senses picked up absolutely nothing from the man. Sure, he had encountered mental shields that concealed emotions before, but those often required stress and concentration. The man was at ease, speaking casually. He had never encountered something so absolute. It was like ramming your head against a metal plate. It was a nearly fruitless endeavor. The man also felt different than any other mental shield. Instead of feeling the prickly feeling of concealment and fear that said emotion would come out, this man felt like a hole, an empty void.

“Yes, Kuvo, it is quite necessary. You will be back at home before you know it,” Virana responded to his inquiry. She then turned back to the rest of the gathered people at the table. “This man was injured in the incident I mentioned. We found him only a few minutes after it happened, and he was left with a knife in his abdomen. Ever since, he has been like this. We believe something supernatural might be the cause of it. I believe I know what that is.”

Tarloc then froze as she slipped something onto the table, and that damned scent invaded his nostrils again, nearly overloading them. He forced his eyes to trace the object’s form. It had a simple wood and leather grip, but the rest of the…knife as it appeared to be…was anything but. It was an ornate silver blade with a bit of dried blood on its tip. It clashed horribly with the beautiful amethysts inlaid every inch or so in the blade. It almost looked like a sacrificial dagger. The hilt had something in the middle, something that Tarloc could sense immediately. It was an emerald, somehow inlaid inside it was a perfectly spherical ruby. Tarloc’s magic almost forced him to physically recoil, but his mind knew now what was causing it. He took a sniff, and desperately tried to identify what on Kumandra he was scenting, but he figured it out. This blade was built to hurt, it was built to harm, to annihilate.

It was the scent of pure, unfiltered violence.

I'm HERE! I'M ALIVE!

Honestly, motivation was lacking for this chapter. Filler is hard to do. Who the hell knew?

A/N: Originally this was going to be a sequel to AdmiralCole22's "No Greater Disaster", but after some discussion, they are more or less AU's of each other, holding the same characters, just under different circumstances and stories.

BTW, if you are going to send OC’s in to potentially influence the story, Imma need an actual account or at least a Discord Username for me to converse with you, otherwise it isn’t gonna happen.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Dual Dreamscapes

Lana belongs to her owner, AdmiralCole22

A/N: By the way, in this story, dragons can be described as being able to fly without the prerequisite of rain. They can walk off the water vapor, but it consumes much more active energy to stay afloat.

Tarloc's focus remained fixated on the ominous knife, his entire being resonating with an intense aversion to its presence. The mere sight of the weapon ignited a deep-seated fury within him, a reaction shared by his disparate personalities. Despite their usual discord, they found a rare consensus in their shared distrust of this malevolent artifact.

Virana, observing his reaction, probed cautiously, "Are you familiar with this object, Tarloc?" Her question hung in the air, laden with curiosity and concern.

Tarloc shook his head, his eyes never leaving the knife, as he replied, "No, it is completely unfamiliar, but that knife is setting off every instinct I have. It is literally emanating hostility and violence." He had instinctively erected mental defenses, wary of the knife's possible potential to overpower his mental state. The overwhelming malevolence it exuded seemed to target him specifically, leaving him grappling with an unseen force that threatened to consume his very essence. The concerned gazes of those around him reinforced the gravity of the situation, emphasizing his isolation in this peculiar experience.

Breaking his silence, Jagan, a figure of enigmatic quietude, spoke up, his words measured and wise. "I expect this reaction ties into your ability to sense things beyond our understanding. That knife, while inert to our perceptions, resonates with your unique awareness, allowing you to perceive its 'intentions' as I might put it." Jagan's insight shed light on Tarloc's extraordinary sensitivity, highlighting the complexity of his connection with the world around him. As the group grappled with the implications of Jagan's words, the enigmatic fog around him seemed to emphasize the mysterious nature of their predicament, shrouding the situation in an aura of uncertainty.

"Yes, Jagandatu," Tarloc responded, his tone formal as he addressed them by his surname, "That knife is emitting signals of unfiltered violence, but in an unconventional manner," he explained, aware of the confusion etched on the faces of both humans and dragons. Emotions were typically perceived in straightforward ways, so this revelation left them perplexed.

Pranee, with a furrowed brow, inquired, "If I may ask, Tarloc, how so?"

Tarloc met their curious gazes and continued, "You know that my personality can be influenced by the emotions of others, correct?" There was a collective nod of confirmation. "Well, this knife conveys violence, yet it doesn’t sway any of my personalities one way or another."

A shared glance passed between Pranee and Jagan, an unspoken understanding passing between them, leaving Tarloc feeling excluded from a secret he sensed was crucial to his predicament. His frustration surfaced, and he questioned, "Beg pardon, but do the two of you know something about this...object?"

Pranee hesitated before replying. "We will tell you later, but first, we need to determine if there is any way to reverse the effects. Do you have any ideas?"

Virana, her voice marked with uncertainty, chimed in, "Perhaps it's because of the blood binding Kuvo to the knife?" As they examined the blade once more, they noticed dried human blood on its surface, oddly merged with the knife's mineral, as if the two had become one. 

Jagan nodded thoughtfully, raising an important question. "Well, if human blood merged with it, would dragon blood counteract the effects?" His gaze shifted towards Tarloc, who understood the implication all too well. They intended to use him, to harness his unique nature for their experiment. His indignation surged; he refused to become a mere test subject, a pawn in their plan. Anger boiled within him, and he firmly resisted the notion.

“No, absolutely not. You want me to risk becoming like him? Do you hear yourself?!” Tarloc yelled, growling in anger. He had just gone on a tirade about how dangerous this thing was, how it was mentally tearing him apart by its mere presence, and now they wanted him to be stabbed by it?!

“No no no, Tarloc, you misunderstand me.” Jagan said, putting aside Tarloc’s outburst, knowing exactly how it may have come across. “We don’t intend to stab you with this thing, heavens forbid it! We simply are going to prick your finger, and see if your blood has an adverse effect. It had an adverse effect on you, suggesting that you and this item are polar opposites. Wouldn't your blood then cancel out this object’s effects?”

Tarloc, while still undeniably ticked off, was unable to find an appropriate rebuttal. Sisu grimaced at the hostile look he had on his face, and he shifted back, filling himself with Sisu’s constant aura of optimism. He took a few quick breaths, worried that his other self was more easily able to hold a sway on him this time because of the presence of the knife. He stumbled over a chair in his state of panic and crashed to the ground. He let out a hiss of pain as he cut his finger on a splintered piece of said chair. “Well, may as well try it. Coincidences exist, and they may be conspiring to make this happen.”

Having Virana bring the knife over, now held with a cloth to avoid skin to skin contact, put it underneath Tarloc’s wounded hand, and he watched as a single drop of his dragon blood fell, and splashed onto the knife.

Almost instantaneously, he felt his skull split in almost indescribable pain. It felt as if every vein in his body had erupted into a hellish blaze and was incinerating him from the inside out. He let out a roar of pain, and immediately, he heard yells of concern as he began to froth at the mouth. He felt as if he was dying, and quite frankly, he would take the sweet release of death if it meant an end to this torment. Blackness creeped around the edges of his vision. The pain that was his own body faded away into the conceptual level of nothingness…

In the void of blackness, Tarloc found himself suspended in a state of nothingness, one with a profound absence of sensation and purpose. Questions plagued his thoughts: Why was he here? What was this strange, formless realm he found himself in?

Attempting to make sense of his surroundings, he attempted to move his gaze, although there was nothing to see. Yet, an inexplicable awareness persisted, a consciousness in the void. As he raised his hand, expecting to see the remnants of his previous wounds, he was met with a bewildering sight – his hand was miraculously healed, devoid of any scars or signs of injury. The inexplicable nature of his surroundings only deepened the mystery. The vast expanse around him remained an impenetrable black, and despite his efforts, he found himself immobilized, as if bound by unseen forces.

Suddenly, a glimmer caught his attention, drawing his focus to a colossal replica of the blade that had been stained with his blood just moments before. To his horror, the blade was descending upon him with alarming speed, slicing through the emptiness with a sharp, merciless edge.

A desperate surge of fear gripped him as he tried to evade the impending strike, to scream out, to do anything to escape this relentless fate. Yet he was rendered motionless, an unwilling witness to his own demise. Time seemed to stretch and distort, elongating the moment into an eternity.

The blade met his face, and the searing pain felt like the very essence of the sun cleaving him in two. The agony that followed was beyond comprehension, an eternity of torment as he was torn asunder, his two halves screaming in unison as the knife sliced him from head to tail. The two severed parts of him fell to the side, their gazes locked in a surreal dance. Despite the dismemberment, he could still see through each eye.

In the midst of excruciating suffering, he witnessed the unimaginable. Both halves of him began to regenerate, a gruesome spectacle unfolding before his eyes. One emerged as a pure cyan entity, while the other took on a dark violet hue. The only distinction between the two was a sinister, dark crimson veil, a macabre residue left behind by the blood-stained blade that had cleaved through him. The two newly formed entities stood tall, their gazes locked, an eerie testament to the bizarre and horrifying nature of his existence.

He saw both perspectives, different opinions. From one side, his left, he saw himself reflected in the blood, tainted by rage and blood, his pure cyan coat becoming dark and dangerous. In the other perspective, he saw through his right side, his purple one. He saw himself, again, seemingly reflected in the veil, but without the bright red blood, the liquid in which life cannot exist without. It was pathetic. What a weak….spineless creature he was, unrestrained like him. 

As the battle between his two conflicting selves raged on, their voices merged into a desperate chorus. "THIS... IS... WRONG!" they exclaimed in unison, the words hanging heavy in the charged atmosphere. The very essence of their being seemed to split, the crimson liquid veil collapsing into a mighty river that separated their two halves on separate platforms. 

The purple Tarloc, fueled by a primal fury, emitted a menacing growl. He was determined to purge his mind of the perceived weakness that bound him, craving the freedom to live unshackled, finally aware of his true identity. On the other side, the cyan Tarloc let out a weary sigh, burdened by the knowledge that he had to defeat this adversary to prevent further harm to others.

With a powerful surge of determination, the purple version propelled himself across the river in one gigantic leap, crashing down upon the cyan version. In the blink of an eye, the purple Tarloc's claws closed around the cyan dragon's neck, tightening their grip with every passing moment. The 'evil' version pushed harder, a relentless force that left the cyan Tarloc gasping for air. Weakened, he kicked out futilely, struggling against the vice-like grip, but the air grew thin, and darkness edged the corners of his vision .

In the midst of the struggle, the evil version of himself unleashed a deafening roar, his voice reverberating with a sinister conviction. "Do you see? I am everything you should be. Everything you could be. Everything you deserve to be! Just die! LET US BE FREE!" The words hung in the air, dripping with malice and disdain. It was a chilling reminder of the constant battle within, a struggle for dominance between light and darkness, virtue and malevolence.

This was the familiar refrain, the relentless cycle that seemed to define their existence. The evil version, driven by raw power and unbridled ambition, believed himself to be the embodiment of everything his counterpart should aspire to be. To him, the good version was a feeble hindrance, a weak creature stifling their freedom, choking the life out of their shared existence. The irony was palpable; the very act of seeking freedom had become a suffocating ordeal, an internal conflict that seemed unending and merciless.

In the heat of the moment, the good version of him stood his ground, a fierce determination blazing in his eyes. "No... I WON'T LET YOU HURT ANYONE ANYMORE!" he bellowed, his voice echoing with a mix of defiance and desperation. He gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of the struggle coursing through him, a battle between light and shadow.

With every ounce of his remaining strength, he lunged forward, his fingers gripping the malevolent version of himself. The evil doppelganger snarled, resisting fiercely, but the good version was fueled by an unyielding resolve. With a primal roar, he propelled his sinister counterpart toward the nearby river of blood, their bodies entangled in a violent dance. As they thrashed and grappled, the river below them seemed to come alive, churning with an eerie intensity. Their roars echoed in the air, mingling with the sound of rushing water and the phantom pain that rippled across their skin.

Amidst the chaos, an unexpected realization washed over them both. Despite the animosity and the vicious struggle, the river seemed to possess a strange, otherworldly power that took no notice of their meaningless battle. Gradually, they became aware that instead of driving them apart, the crimson currents were pulling them closer together, forging an inexplicable connection between their warring souls. It was as if the river itself held the key to their reconciliation, weaving a thread of understanding amid the madness.

In the midst of their internal turmoil, Tarloc's two warring personalities clashed relentlessly, their conflict reaching new heights, yet their battle was abruptly interrupted by a blinding light at the end of the river. With twin roars of agony, they struggled against the searing brilliance that engulfed them, their eyes burning from its overwhelming intensity. The light wrapped around them, forcing the two conflicting entities to merge, compelling them to reunite into the singular dragon they once were.

In the aftermath of this merging, Tarloc found himself adrift in an ethereal realm, a state of uncertainty where reality blurred into unreality. He floated in the void, his senses numbed, unsure of what was genuine and what was illusion. He blinked, attempting to make sense of his surroundings, his movements reduced to mere twitches. Overwhelmed by an unshakable fatigue, he felt the encroaching darkness at the edges of his vision, a creeping void that threatened to consume him whole. Amidst the disorienting silence, a distant voice called his name, reaching out to him through the haze of his exhaustion.

Tarloc's first sense was comfort, a definite plus from the hell he had experienced in whatever the hell his dreamscape had become. His eyes twitched as he rolled over, and he felt from the way the ground sagged under his movement that he was in a bed. As he gradually began to regain consciousness, he became aware of a soft, warm weight draped over his legs, the gentle rise and fall of his chest accompanied by the rhythmic sound of his own breathing. The soft embrace of the sheets cocooned him in a gentle warmth, soothing the frayed edges of his mind. With a faint sigh, he allowed himself to sink deeper into the plushness beneath him, relishing the relief of having solid ground under him, a stark contrast to the shifting, nightmarish landscapes that had haunted him before. The touch of the bed against his skin felt almost foreign, a luxury he had long forgotten, bringing an unexpected tranquility that enveloped him like a comforting embrace after years of battling relentless tides of uncertainty and fear.

"Tarloc!" came a voice from above the empath dragon. He wanted to smile, if it didn't hurt to move his face. It was seizing up from phantom pains. He peeked his eyes open and saw his father, Kanjo, and his mother, Firingu. Their concerned expressions etched with deep lines of worry softened at the sight of his semi-conscious state. Kanjo's proud, yet weathered eyes glistened with unshed tears, reflecting both relief and an undeniable paternal love that had endured even the most trying of times. Firingu's gaze, intense and fiercely protective, radiated a mother's fierce devotion, a blend of tenderness and an unyielding determination that Tarloc had always found solace in.

Their voices blended into a gentle murmur, their words barely registering as Tarloc's mind grappled with the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. A surge of gratitude washed over him, mingled with a sense of bewilderment at the sight of his parents' unyielding presence. The reassurance of their proximity offered a semblance of stability, a lifeline to cling to in the midst of the turbulent uncertainty that had become his reality. Despite the lingering ache in his body, the warmth of their collective presence enveloped him, a familiar embrace that anchored him to the familiar sense of belonging, of being a part of something greater than himself.

With a strained effort, he managed a weak smile, a feeble attempt to convey his gratitude for their unwavering support. In that moment, the room seemed to hum with an unspoken understanding, an unbreakable bond woven through trials and tribulations, a testament to the resilience of familial love that transcended even the darkest of nightmares.

"Tarloc, it's going to be alright. We're all here for you," Kanjo reassured, pulling his son close in a tight embrace. Tears trickled down Kanjo's weathered face, revealing the depth of his worry. Tarloc found solace in his father's embrace, but confusion gnawed at him. What had happened to warrant such intense concern? It had only been a day, or so he thought, since he had lost consciousness.

As Tarloc struggled to piece together the fragments of his memory, fleeting images danced at the edges of his mind like wisps of smoke, elusive and intangible. He remembered the searing pain, the suffocating river that threatened to swallow him whole. Yet, the details remained shrouded, the events leading up to his current state a hazy blur. He longed to voice his questions, to unravel the mystery that seemed to envelop him, but the heaviness in his chest weighed down his voice, rendering him momentarily mute in the presence of his concerned parents.

“Mother…Father ... .how long was I out? Only a day or so right?” Tarloc asked. He expected them to agree soundlessly, and things could go back to normal. What he didn’t expect, and quite dreaded seeing, was the frightened look that passed between his mother and father’s gazes. His heart started beating faster. Then he realized something, the last thing he knew of his parents was that they had been down in Spine. They could not have came back here in a single day, even disregarding the time it would take to send that message.

“Tarloc…I…don’t know how to say this..but…you were unconscious for over three weeks. This is the twenty-fifth day you were comatose..”

Tarloc’s lungs shriveled up at that sentence. He felt like a looming shadow had just pulled him into the ocean’s deepest abyss. Twenty five DAYS!? He looked at his form, and it looked incredibly malnourished. Granted, dragons could survive long without food, about five weeks, but those that did were incredibly weak and took more weeks to recover. His eyes looked around the room he was in, and it was definitely the structure from the palace of Heart. He presumed that it was judged too dangerous to carry him to another location. His parents wound their bodies around him, which did well to calm his nerves.

"Oh, by the way, there's someone who wants to talk to you, Tarloc," Firingu informed him. Tarloc tilted his head, wondering who it could be. Could it be one of his friends? "Don't worry, we will be with you," Firingu reassured.

"Okay. Bring them in," Tarloc relented.

As the door creaked open, a flash of purple caught his eye. A surge of unease rippled through him, momentarily clouding his vision with darkness. The image of a purple dragon strangling him flashed vividly, sending a shiver down his spine. Yet, as quickly as the memory surfaced, it dissipated into the recesses of his mind. He then realized that the dragon who had entered was not the same one from his vision, but he still knew this dragon, and quite frankly, he wasn’t happy.

"Jagan…" Tarloc sneered. The sight of Sisu's brother, who was looking genuinely remorseful, was almost startling. "Why would you want to see me?"

Jagan's voice was laced with genuine regret as he responded, "Listen, I understand your anger, and you have every right to be furious with me. But please, let me explain. If it's necessary, I won't trouble you again."

Tarloc's initial urge was to unleash his fury, to yell at Jagan, to make him feel the hell he went through, but his compassionate side, fueled by his parent’s love and compassion, nudged him to listen. Attempting to speak, he found himself silenced by the compassion he unexpectedly felt for the dragon before him. With difficulty, he managed to choke out, "Fine, speak."

Jagan's head bowed, and his tone was filled with sincere contrition. "I am deeply sorry for what happened, for your unconsciousness. I should have been more rational, more cautious. The thoughtless pursuit of my theory nearly cost you your life. I can't apologize enough. Whatever punishment you seek, I will accept it."

Tarloc was taken aback. Here was a dragon from one of the most esteemed bloodlines, practically kneeling before him, pleading for forgiveness. The situation was unsettling, and Tarloc realized he no longer desired to inflict harm on Jagan. It felt inherently wrong. He conceded that Jagan had taken precautions to ensure his safety, avoiding direct contact with the dangerous knife. It was an unforeseen turn of events.

The decision weighed heavily on Tarloc's mind. Allowing this incident to pass without consequence was out of the question. It wouldn't just undermine the significance of his suffering, but also create the impression that he had forgiven Jagan entirely, which he hadn't. But what action would serve as just retribution, yet not cause irreversible harm?

"Well, what did you do while I was unconscious? Answer that first, and then I will make my decision," Tarloc asserted, maintaining a composed demeanor.

"I assisted in caring for you. You were essentially under my observation, as callous as it may sound. I had to take responsibility for the consequences of my actions," Jagan responded, his tone noticeably calmer. Tarloc arched his long neck, surprised that Jagan had been actively involved in his care, not just offering apologies.

"It's true. He dedicated himself to your well-being every day," Firingu interjected. "Initially, he was consumed by guilt. If it weren't for the faint heartbeat, he might have spiraled further. We had to call Sisu to help calm him down."

A flicker of warmth blossomed within Tarloc. It seemed Jagan had genuinely felt remorse and cared for his safety. Tarloc almost considered leaving it at that, recognizing the weight of Jagan's guilt, but his sense of justice demanded some form of resolution. He pondered for a moment, trying to find a suitable middle ground.

"Hmm, I would let you off, but I can't. My other side insists on administering some form of punishment, and I cannot ignore it," Tarloc declared. Jagan nodded in understanding as Tarloc continued, "Until this matter with the knife is resolved, you will remain by my side. Not only will you assist me in unraveling its mysteries, but my darker side will find solace in knowing that your presence constantly reminds you of your actions. Is that acceptable?"

Jagan nodded solemnly. "Yes, and honestly, I am surprised that's all. I won't leave your side until this is resolved. I was hoping to delve deeper into this matter, so our objectives don't clash."

"However, for now, I need time to rest and recover. Please, leave me be for now," Tarloc concluded, feeling the exhaustion seep into his bones.

Jagan silently retreated from the room, yet Tarloc could sense he hadn't gone far. Instead, he remained stationed by the doorway, waiting for the moment when Tarloc would be well enough to leave his bed.

Kanjo and Firingu, although initially perturbed by their son's distress, recognized the significance of their support. They stayed by his side, engaging him in conversation for hours, catching him up on everything he had missed.

"Raya's ceremony is in THREE DAYS!?" Tarloc exclaimed, his voice reflecting his astonishment. Realization dawned on him; it had been twenty-five days since he had lost consciousness, and now only three days remained until the ceremony.

“Yes, and she actually said that she would postpone it if you could not attend it, considering how much you helped her get over her apprehension about the whole thing.” Kanjo said. Tarloc did feel a nice wave of contentment, knowing that he would be able to attend such an incredible event for one of his friends.”

Meanwhile, a plate of food was brought in for Tarloc, since he had not eaten in several weeks. He found the food very satisfying to eat. It was to be expected. His stomach had been silently growling since he had woken up. He sunk his teeth into the pork, and then darkness clouded his vision as he felt his teeth dig into a dragon’s neck, blood pooling at the points of entry, before again, it left his vision.

What had happened was that Tarloc’s recollection of the dream world experience was fractured. He remembered bits and pieces, but since he had been separated, there were two memories that happened at the exact same time, which made them harder for his brain to process. Henceforth, the feelings of the event were there, which was why certain events triggered those memories.

As Tarloc grappled with the disjointed fragments of his recollection, the realization of the simultaneous existence of two parallel occurrences coiling within his mind felt like an intricate puzzle with elusive pieces that refused to fit together. Flashes of discordant images cascaded through his consciousness, intertwining in a tangled web of conflicting emotions and sensory impressions that defied logical comprehension. The dissonance of experiencing divergent events in the same temporal space left him reeling, struggling to discern the boundaries between what was real and what had been intricately woven into the fabric of his dreamscape.

Sensory triggers, subtle yet potent, lured these fractured memories to the forefront of his consciousness, threading a delicate balance between the past and the present. The echo of distant whispers, the faint scent of smoldering embers, the haunting melody of a long-forgotten lullaby—all conspired to pull him deeper into the labyrinthine depths of his subconscious, unraveling the enigma of his fractured recollections with an unyielding persistence.

With each passing moment, Tarloc grappled with the paradoxical nature of his existence, the weight of conflicting experiences converging into a singular point of undeniable truth. The duality of his memories became an intricate tapestry, woven with threads of longing and despair, of hope and disillusionment, each strand contributing to the complex mosaic of his identity. Amidst the chaos of his fractured recollections, a sliver of clarity beckoned, a beacon of understanding that illuminated the path toward reconciling the irreconcilable, and to find solace in the uncharted territories of his own fractured psyche.

“I think it is time that we go for a walk. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to simply remain here. You’d probably get bored just laying around and doing nothing.” Kanjo said, unwinding his serpentine body. Tarloc did agree. He stretched his neck, getting a few cricks out from remaining stationary for so long. His body felt like an empty riverbed, and was slowly filling up with the stream of his thoughts. He felt his limbs stretch, and that was a surreal experience. They groaned at moving, and he noticed it did feel harder to move, but he was only now getting up. His heart was practically beating in his ears as he forced his body to move. He put a paw on the stone, the cold feeling shooting up his arm. He took a small breath and gently moved forwards.

He felt like a newborn, taking their first steps. It felt shameful, feeling so weak, but he knew that it was to be expected. His mother and father walked beside him, guiding him and saying that if he needed it, he could lean on them. He appreciated the gesture, but remained firm. He needed to do this on his own. He took a few more steps , and now he was fully off of the bed. He took a breath to calm himself as he moved in a circle to get things moving and his blood pumping. He walked slowly and carefully, until the chill of the floor faded away and he felt confident in his ability to move again.

With a simple nod to his parents, Tarloc signaled his desire to leave the room. Understanding his unspoken request, they swiftly opened the door, allowing him to step outside. As anticipated, Jagan lingered nearby, stationed just outside the doorway. Their eyes met in that fleeting moment, and Tarloc perceived something beyond the realm of misery and guilt within Jagan. It was a sensation akin to a tether tugging at his psyche, a force that felt not only warm but also strangely comforting. Unlike the weight of despair and remorse, this sensation bore the brightness of a sunlit day in Heart. Returning Jagan's nod, Tarloc followed as he was led toward the main room, where he presumed the rest of his friends were anxiously awaiting his arrival, their concerns palpable as they drew closer.

“Alright then, time to set things to rest.” Jagan prompted.

“Indeed it is, Jagan. Indeed it is.” Tarloc said as the door opened. In the room were Lana, Raya, Sisu, and Benja, all definitely worried, but they gave smiles and sighs of relief as they saw their friend recovered and upright. Sisu waved to her brother, who gave a tentative wave back. She probably enjoyed that Jagan was no longer beating himself up over Tarloc’s condition. Raya ran over and gave Tarloc a hug, which he returned.

“I am so glad to see that you are okay Tarloc. And in time for my ceremony! I would never forgive myself if you had missed that!”

“Yes, Raya, I heard about your proclamation that you would refuse to be made Chief as long as I was comatose.”

“Well, I also kinda wanted to see how you’d react with all the positive emotions at the celebration.” Raya sheepishly replied.

Tarloc gave a laugh, “Agreed, Chief Raya of Heart”

Hello to you all. Yeah, I am not that good at keeping a schedule. Mainly focusing on not dropping out of college atm.

Ooh, looks like Tarloc isn’t doing too good. Thankfully he has his family, and someone else potentially.

Drama!

See ya next time!