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For-rithir, his Mom had called it. Traitor or oathbreaker, in the dragon tongue. Someone who broke a promise. Smolder had learned that both dragons and humans took promises very seriously. When Smolder was younger, Marinos would always get really upset if he broke a promise. He never did it on purpose, of course. He just sometimes forgot things or got really excited about something and forgot some more. It was only when Marinos explained that it hurt his feelings that Smolder paused and thought about his actions. He didn’t want anyone to feel bad because of him. From that point on, whenever he wanted to do something, he always tried to remember if he had promised something first. It was hard, but not impossible. Not if he set his mind to it.
Today, however, he was going to break a promise on purpose. And it was because of something his Mom had told him.
It was a cool summer night when she told him this thing. He was sleepy and his belly was full of things he wasn’t supposed to eat. As he was rolling on his back and stretching all of his toes, he suddenly stiffened and his expression froze. He felt a lurch in his stomach, like when he flew up real high and dove back down. To get rid of the feeling, he rolled back onto his belly and waited. But the feeling did not go away. He stood up and circled a bit, then sat down with his tail curled around his feet. The feeling still didn't go away. It was like he needed to do something, go somewhere, he just didn't know where.
“Mom,” he said and stared out at the horizon beyond the cliffs. She barely moved her head, almost asleep herself. “Mom, I need to go.”
“Then go, son.” she sighed and shifted her great weight to make herself more comfortable. “You need not tell me every time.”
“No, Mom,” Smolder frowned, tapping his front feet on the stone and standing up on all fours again. He stared at the horizon, snuffing the air like he was trying to catch a scent. “Not like that. I mean I need to go go. Someone's calling me.”
He felt the rumble of the cliff-side they were resting on. His Mom moved so quickly that he thought she might tear the entire mountain pass apart and there was a growl in her throat that was so deep that it made his chest vibrate.
“What are you saying?!” she snarled in the dragon tongue and put each of her clawed feet on either side of him. He cowered and pressed himself to the ground. He had never seen her this angry before.
“Do you feel a pull, Ignacarious? Do you feel it tugging you, calling you east?”
“I… I…” he stammered and pressed himself closer against the ground. Tears were building up in his eyes and he shook his head. “I don't know, Mom. I'm sorry, I… please don't be mad.”
She saw her mistake then and immediately felt horrible. She looked at him, her tiny son, and regret made her expression soften. Her muscles relaxed and her shoulders slumped. With a gentle movement that one could never expect from a dragon, she placed a claw against her son’s rump and pulled him close. He allowed the movement and pressed himself against her, hiding his tearful face. She stroked him and sighed.
“Forgive me, my little fly. I was frightened. I should not have yelled.” she rumbled quietly and leaned down to press her muzzle against her son's head. The peaks of flame upon his brow tickled her.
Smolder wiped his tears against her leg and sniffed before he looked up again, his face full of worry. His Mom was not usually scared of anything. An earth drake had tussled with her once and she sent it flying with more scars than it had arrived with. Nothing was stronger than an imperial dragon. “It’s okay, Momma,” he said and pressed his head against her muzzle for a moment. “Why did you get frightened?”
She frowned, but not in an angry way. She looked worried, which only alarmed Smolder more.
For a few long seconds, she said nothing at all. She just stared at the horizon like he had done, breathing in the scents and frowning some more. He copied her movements, looking where she looked to see if he could maybe spot something.
“There is a hollow bit,” she then explained. Her voice was like the splitting of earth when the fire beneath it tore itself free.
“Inside of us. All imperial dragons feel it. It will pull you, call to you, and the closer you are to the source, the more it will drive you mad. It has driven many of our kin mad.”
Her eyes were flame and molten stone. They narrowed a bit, as if she was remembering something. “They sought it out on those Isles. None returned sane. Even your Uncle Erastin, ever wise, ever vigilant, fell to the pull. Whenever you feel that pull, my son, ignore it. Fight it if you must. Fly as hard as you can in the opposite direction, exhaust yourself till it is gone. No good can come of it. Not anymore.”
Smolder furrowed his brows. He did not understand. None of that made sense to him. His Mom was fond of telling stories about their glorious past, but every now and then, her stories turned gloomy and sad. Whenever she was like that, he knew not to ask her too many questions. But right now, he needed to know.
“Wait, if it’s inside of us… how can it pull us? What’s it pulling us to? Why is there a… hollow bit?” he asked, growing more bold with each question he fired off.
His Mom turned her head towards him and let out a long, thoughtful hum.
“Because a long time ago, your Grandmother made a promise.” she said with a grim expression on her face. “Promises are important, but they can be dangerous things too. Like a leash. Because of that, none of us are born whole. There is a bit inside of us that longs to be reunited with the bloodline that we were bound to all those years ago.”
She lowered her head now, resting it on her great, clawed feet. Smolder settled down next to her cheek, pressing his tiny body against it in an attempt to make her feel less sad. She nudged him lovingly, but did not look any happier.
“I hoped that after the death of that bloodline, we would be free of it. I hoped at the very least that you would be free of it, my son. You hatched so long after the last of them died.”
She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. She was still for so long that Smolder wondered if she had fallen asleep after all. “Do you feel the pull too, Momma?” he asked her cautiously.
She opened one of her great, yellow eyes and looked at him. He saw his own reflection in it. “Yes. Two years back, it was stronger than ever. It urged me to search, but I am no scenthound. I am a dragon and the pet of no man.” she hissed.
“Who’s calling us, Momma?” Smolder whispered, knowing instinctively that this was the most dangerous question of all.
There was a rumble in his Mom’s throat again and her lip quivered, revealing her white fangs.
“The last of the human kings. He should have died many lifetimes ago, but clings to this world. Clings to his madness. He is naught but a shadow these days. It is disgraceful.” she snorted.
“There are kings here.” Smolder retorted, which made his Mom laugh.
“Pah. Pale imitations. Children playing pretend. Not like in Camavor. Not like before.”
She stretched now and pressed her muzzle against her son again, caressing him gently.
“One day, little fly, we can return. When you are bigger and your wings are stronger. Then we will not need to answer to anyone. Camavor will be ours, like it was in the days when the sun was young. And all men will bow to us or feel our fire. Until then, ignore the pull. Promise me you will ignore it.”
“Okay, Mom. I promise.” he whispered and closed his eyes. He did not sleep for another hour, his mind buzzing and the hollow bit pulling inside of him.
It was this promise that he decided to break. He didn’t do it immediately. For a while, he went on with his business - hunting, eating, playing. He filled his crop with limestone, like his Mom had taught him, and practised his flying. But the pull came back every now and then. It was like the tugging of a rope, urging him to go east. If he was very still and very focused, he could almost make out words sometimes. Almost. They were as faint as whispers on the wind. Part of him wanted to go to Marinos. Marinos knew many things and was more willing to talk about them than his Mom was.
The only thing holding Smolder back was, well… his Mom. She hovered over him more closely these days, keeping an eye on him in case he wandered too far. She also did not like humans, even Marinos. Maybe especially Marinos. She did not like that he had given Smolder a human name and she did not like that he had taught him the human tongue.
She never said so out loud, but he could always tell anyway. He loved her and he knew she loved him, but her silence sometimes said more than her words did. Sometimes it hurt.
Besides, the last thing he wanted right now was to get Marinos in trouble, so he stayed away. Stayed with his own thoughts. Listened to the wind.
The pull was odd. It did not feel… bad, exactly. It filled him with longing, like he was missing something he had never seen. His Mom had told him that Uncle Erastin used to have a very sharp mind and a very grand heart. But even he fell to madness - the worst thing to happen to a dragon. Smolder wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but he knew it was ‘a fate worse than death’. He knew that even though Uncle Erastin tried doing a good thing by seeking out the king, he was not strong enough to resist the Mists. He turned into something that wasn’t Uncle Erastin at all. Now, he roamed the earth without a thought in his head - a slavering beast that could only search and consume.
Smolder did not want that to happen to him. But something about this entire story didn't make sense.
It was the fact that the pull was coming from Camavor, not the Isles. He just knew that somehow, knew it in his heart, and he knew there were no Mists there. Camavor was his birthplace and he knew it was safe. He wasn't sure if they were early memories or simply dreams he had had, but he remembered wide open meadows covered in heathers and cornflowers. He remembered colourful birds and caravans full of singers.
No instinct inside of him sparked fear or hesitation. If there were no Mists, surely there was no risk of madness either? He knew that the pull could be a trick. Humans were often tricky. Maybe the king had other ways of driving him mad.
It's just that… there was such a sadness to the whole thing. The pull did not urge him to search or any of those other things his Mom had talked about. It just wanted him close. It made him wonder if the king was lonely. That could be true, if he was the last one. Smolder knew what that was like.
Smolder's Mom had always told him that he had a Destiny. That he was born to rule and there were Great Things in store for him. But Marinos had always said that he needed to find his own path. In the past, he didn't really know what that meant. But now, all he thought about was his Grandmother's promise. He wondered if everything was just going to be broken forever or if there was some way he could make things whole again. He needed to know and he had a feeling that he was approaching his own path quicker than anticipated.
He waited until a day where his Mom had spotted a platewyrm circling near the bay. Perhaps it was looking for a place to lay its eggs or perhaps it was just looking for easy prey - in any case, she thought she might be able to beach it and turn it into a meal that would last them several days. She instructed Smolder to stay put while she hunted the beast.
While she was gone, Smolder started searching for ships.
It was easier than he had expected. Many Noxians went to Camavor to find beasts and treasures, so he picked the one that he thought looked the fastest. It also had plenty of room, so he could always find new hiding places. He shared the ship with many wharf rats, which he made swift meals of when he wasn't robbing fishing lines. All in all, the journey was pleasant, and the closer he got to Camavor, the better his Hollow Bit felt.
He felt bad for running away from his Mom, but he planned on getting back as quickly as he could. Besides, he wasn’t a hatchling anymore, so he could fend for himself, at least for a while.
It was night-time when the ship anchored near the shore. All the scents were so familiar, felt so right.
He stood on his back legs and leaned against the railing as he snuffed the air. Just a short flight and he'd be on the rocky beach. He could glide most of the way and catch his breath on the dark rocks. Most of the sailors were asleep, and if anyone acted as a lookout, they weren't doing a very good job. Smolder made it to the beach in no time and scrambled between some rocks to stay hidden. No sounds. Just the waves against the shore and the soft creaking of the ship. He was in the clear and ran until he was safe in the brush. From then on, he didn't really know where he was going, but he followed that feeling of longing that called out to him.
The closer he got, the better he felt. He took a break to sleep in a high tree when the sun started rising, and when it was at its highest point in the sky, he continued on his journey. The heat was nice and made his fire horns burn brighter, and he even managed to find a bunch of antlered beetles that were fun to follow and crunchy to eat.
He travelled most of the day and rested whenever he felt like it. By the time the sky was covered in soft, purple hues, he finally slowed and paused. Jagged human ruins rose above the brambles. This place must have been grand once, but now, it made Smolder's scales prickle. He lowered himself closer to the ground and crept forward carefully. Terraces, stairs, pillars - everything was half-choked with vines and roots of great trees that had torn the stone apart. It was very clear that no humans had lived here for a very long time. It was so odd. Smolder had never seen something like this before. He had never seen something so old and broken, and he almost felt bad stepping on everything as he was trying to make his way through. Towers that had toppled over, scorch marks that may have come from his own kin. The earth itself was scarred from old violence and hadn't quite recovered.
Darkness slowly fell around him as he crept deeper and deeper into the ruins. He noticed that some of the archways and hallways were far too big to be comfortable for humans. No sane mind would have built them this way, unless they had wanted to accommodate larger creatures. Smolder wondered if his Mom had ever walked here.
There were no dragon scents now in any case, neither recent nor old. He was alone here and the pull felt stronger. It was the presence of a soft, blue light that made him pause again. It illuminated a rather large area and pulsed a little, as if it was alive. Unlike everywhere else, there were no vines here. No grass, not even a stray leaf. It was barren, nothing but stone. And a man. A chained man. The light came from him.
Smolder watched him for a while in a cautious fashion. The man did not move. He looked like a statue, but did not feel lifeless. He looked so different from Marinos too, whose skin was dark and smelled like the sun. This man was tall and skinny, and he had a chill to him that Smolder could not place. Very carefully, he crept all the way around him to get a better look, but did not move closer for the time being. There was a pitcher near the man and a goblet with rainwater in it. A plate too. Someone had visited him before, though it had been a while and the scents were faint. Oddly enough, they smelled similar to what the man smelled like. This cool, blue scent that surrounded him, that vaguely reminded him of cornflowers. He was unsure if this visitor was his captor or his friend, but either way, they hadn't been here in a long time.
He circled the man a few more times before finally stepping closer.
Oh, how good his Hollow Bit felt now. The tense knot in his stomach unravelled and he let out a long sigh of relief. But the sadness had not disappeared. When he looked up at the man, his face was contorted by rage and despair. Smolder could smell it too, but these scents had also faded, like the lingering musk of a badgerbear that had long since passed an area.
The man was straining against his bonds, forever frozen in his struggle. It did not look comfortable.
Smolder pressed himself against the man’s legs, like he had done with Marinos when they both were younger. He tucked his feet under himself and rested his chin on the man’s boot.
“What happened to you?” he whispered, though he already knew the answer. He had heard the stories a hundred times, from Marinos and his own Mom. Together, the stories formed a picture that was just as scarred as the land he stood on.
He stayed with the man for several days, only running off to eat and drink and explore the ruins. Whenever he slept, he slept next to him. Just like back on the cliff-side, he tried to listen. The whispers on the wind were a bit easier to hear now, but not that much easier. They weren't really whispers either - they were more like feelings that he tried to turn into words in his head. Sometimes it made him frustrated. Maybe a wiser dragon would know what to do about all of this. He missed his Mom and wished she was here. Even though he knew she’d be mad, she always knew what to do.
It was night time when Smolder finally heard something distinctive. He had been asleep, but woke up when he heard the man say something. At least that’s what it sounded like. It almost sounded like he said-
“Quiet …”
Smolder lifted his head and stared at him. The man had not moved. His expression had not changed. He still looked like a statue. But Smolder’s heart was beating faster and he stared harder. Then, he heard it again.
“ Quiet… listen… ”
“What is it? What’s quiet?” he whispered and stood up. He tried to listen. He tried to make out what was being said. The words were so unbelievably faint, but he concentrated as hard as he could.
– Listen – Heart – Where – Search? – Quiet… – Quiet… –
So close. He was so close to hearing more, but then things truly went quiet. The man was silent. Smolder stood still for so long that his muscles started aching. But there was no more. He sighed and stepped away. And then there was a PULL .
Everything went dark. The stars themselves disappeared from the sky and everything was drowned in darkness. Smolder saw nothing but the man in front of him, the man who was screaming, straining, filling him with pain. The gentle blue light was gone - everything was green, a terrible green that smothered the entire world with sickness.
Smolder could not move. His eyes were filled with tears, but something locked him in place and threatened to tear every muscle and sinew apart. There were three green lights on his forehead and they were clutching him, filling his mind and tinting everything green.
– STAY – STAY – STAY –
They were not whispers any longer. They were screams. Terrible screams. Images were rushing through Smolder’s head so quickly that he had a hard time keeping track. Darkness, ships, a lonely room, the smell of rot, a raging king, horses galloping, spears thrown, dragons burning everything to the ground, blue strings tying him down, water, water, so much water. He was drowning. The entire world was drowning. He was in water and he could not breathe. Somewhere in the darkness, a woman screamed and a man cried. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.
– NO – NO – PLEASE – PLEASE – STAY –
Smolder was trying to hold on to something in that roiling darkness, trying to hold on to anything, but his claws gained no purchase. The world was drowning and he was too.
He and… the man. The man was in front of him. He saw him struggling in the water too, kicking and thrashing and panicking, unable to breathe. Smolder stretched out his paw for him, but could not reach. If only he could PULL.
At that thought, the man came closer. The pull. It was still there. Only now he discovered that it went both ways. His Mom had called it a leash, but even a leash had two ends. Smolder did not need to submit - because he could pull too.
The dragon squared his shoulders and planted his feet down. The ground was there. He could feel it there. There was no water. He could breathe, even as the man still struggled and gasped.
“It’s not real…” he realised and looked around him. It was a nightmare. The man’s nightmare, not Smolder’s. He had simply dragged him into it somehow.
Smolder shook his head and flicked off the specks of green from it, like a horse that shook off flies.
He remembered what Marinos used to say to him when he had nightmares as a hatchling. He remembered the gentle voice he used and tried to imitate it, even as his own voice shook.
“Hey! Hey. It’s not real. Hey, it’s okay. It’s just a nightmare.” he said. “It’s not real.”
The man turned his head now and looked at him for the first time. He looked confused, but at least he was breathing again. At least he was listening, and he was allowing himself to be pulled closer.
Smolder swallowed and held his head high, like his Mom had always taught him. He did not move, but simply pulled the man closer and closer. The man still did not resist him.
“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll stay. I’ll stay.”
The repetition of these words seemed to calm the man. His eyes were less frantic, his breathing slowed down. And the water was disappearing. Slowly, the darkness faded. Starlight was coming through again and the man fell to his knees. He looked so small now, so exhausted. He did not say anything or look at anything but the ground.
Smolder moved now and sat next to him. It felt easy to do. He was not scared of this man - there was no fight left in him.
“It's okay. You can go back to sleep. I'll stay here.” he said reassuringly, though his heart was still beating fast from the horrors he had witnessed. He was only pretending to be confident, but it all seemed to work. The man’s eyelids were growing heavy and he was settling down on the ground. He curled up, much like a dragon would, Smolder noticed. The next time Smolder blinked, everything was back to the way it was. The man was not on the ground, but back in his bonds. It was a quiet night, and blue light gently shimmered around his frozen body.
Smolder took a moment to take some big breaths. That was scary. That was so scary, but after standing still for a while and gathering his thoughts, he realised that he had learned some important things. Things that no one could have taught him.
Vol Visperi-Desinvein. The Will of Drake and Man. This was it. That’s what the Hollow Bit was - this pull, this bond, this leash. Even with all of his Mom’s explanations, this experience had taught him something different. It had shown him a side of Camavor that he had never even heard of before. All he ever heard of was glory. Always the glory and how grand things were.
But that nightmare had shown him so much pain and violence. Not just from the humans, but from his own kin, burning people to ashes. There was so much of it. No wonder the land was scarred here. No wonder it was so quiet. Is that what his future held, to bring eternal silence to all he touched? Was it inevitable, because of some stupid promise that his Grandmother had made?
“No,” Smolder said out loud. He frowned defiantly and scraped his claws against the stone beneath him. “This can't be all there is.”
Whatever his Grandmother intended, whatever the kings and queens of the past intended - it wasn't right. He did not want Vol Visperi-Desinvein to be a mark of dominance. Did it really have to be? There had to be a better way, there just had to. Had no one even tried? Had no one wanted to?
Smolder paced back and forth, his entire face scrunched up in frustration. Marinos was right - he had to find his own path and he had a feeling that the man here had something to do with it. One thing was for sure, though - Smolder was not going to let anyone put a leash on him. On his path, no one was anyone’s pet.
He let out another deep breath and looked at the man again. Though he looked harmless now, he still remembered the stories. He knew what he was capable of and something had to be done about that. He wasn’t sure what, but he did not want to rule over a broken world. He just wanted to help make it better.
He looked at the man’s blue bonds again and at the goblet, the pitcher, the plate. Whoever left this knew something and maybe they could help if things went terribly wrong. He just needed to find them. He had come this far.
“I think I can help,” he finally said to the man and stepped up right in front of him. The reds and yellows from his fire horns warmed the man’s face and made him look more alive.
“But if you want my help, we’re gonna have to put down some rules.”
The Hollow Bit stirred, as it must have done when Grandmother Viper had made her promise to the very first Camavoran king. Smolder felt the pull again, but it was cautious now, careful. The blue hues around the man shimmered like stars in the night sky.
“... listening.”