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Somewhere off in Alefgard, the Children of Rubiss were hard at work, maintaining their side of the balance the best they could. The Faeries fluttered around discreetly and gathered information, anything that could prove valuable in their effort to stop the Dragonlord.
Dream-Whisperer stifled a yawn and lifted a crumpled pillar with a delicate snap of her index and thumb. Staff in hand, the heels of her flat shoes gently padded against the once smooth marble floors of Lady Rubiss' Tower. It was decrepit and ruined now. A far cry from its once glorious stature.
It had been exactly four weeks and five days since she lost contact with Lady Rubiss. She had been out of Alefgard, attending to matters in Incognita, when the Dragonlord conveniently swooped in and not only cut off communication, but direct access to the teleportals She created with Her own two hands.
Since then, there has been no word of the Goddess' condition. Dream Whisperer has done her best to keep the other faeries calm. But the High Priestess would be lying if she said she wasn't worried. The last time Rubiss wasn't around to oversee the realm, the dreadful Demonlord Zoma and his Archfiend Baramos ran rampant. History was repeating itself, once more.
The faint sound of rattling bones snapped her out of her daze. Blue eyes flickered towards the opposite end of the hall, where a deadnaut skeleton with a sheathed sword, sunken eye-sockets, and blue armor with a distinct draconical crest for a certain God of Destruction, approached.
A faint, empty smile curled upon Dream-Whisperer's pink lips. Soft yet imperceptible.
"Long time, no see, General."
"Likewise, High Priestess," a low, gravelly voice replied. His bones rattled as he stepped forward, armor clanking against the hollow ligaments that held him together.
"I'm afraid you're too late. The Tower has already been ransacked by the Dragonlord's minions. Tell Lord Malroth to try again, another time." she replied solemnly, gesturing to the desolate halls.
The General cocked an eyebrow—or what would have been an eyebrow, if he still had any form of body hair. "You are mistaken, Priestess," he shook his head, "That is not the reason for my visit."
"Then why, Boneparte?" Dream-Whisperer inquired, ever so patient. But even she had her limits. Especially for a Child of Malroth. "Why come at all, if not to rub it in my face?"
"I come for two separate reasons—one on behalf of my brothers-in-arms, and the other for my personal inquiry." General Boneparte stepped even closer, closing the distance between them.
Dream-Whisperer straightened up, and lowered her staff down to her side. "Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"Then speak. Before I make the effort to remove you from these sacred grounds."
"Lord Malroth is… missing," Boneparte informed her, deep red eye sockets flickering away from her. "He has been for quite some time. Last I saw of Him, He went to visit His favorite Goddess. And, well…" Sighing, he ran a bony hand down his skull. "He has not returned to his throne since."
Dream-Whisperers' eyebrows lifted in surprise. 'I had not expected that…'
"You say He went to visit Lady Rubiss in Incognita?"
"Indeed. Something about a Dragonlord that has been a real pain in his ass…" the deadnaut muttered, placing his hand upon his jaw in thought. "Anyways, I came here to inquire if She had any clue of His whereabouts. But it seems She is not here at the moment?"
"No, she isn't…" Dream-Whisperer fiddled with the edge of her golden cuff, formulating possibilities and narrowing down to the most logical hypotheses. "Perhaps Lord Malroth is not the only one who has been cast out…"
"I beg pardon?" Boneparte's face contorted into confusion.
The Priestess turned to face him once more. "Lady Rubiss is also missing. Technically… I know where She currently is, I just cannot call Her back from it."
"Interesting… Are you suggesting they are both trapped?"
"Precisely," the blonde faerie nodded. "As you are most definitely aware, Lord Malroth rarely strays far from Lady Rubiss' side due to… special circumstances. And if He's not causing trouble, then he must be with Her."
Boneparte's rib cage rattled with a short, raspy laugh. "See, this is why I like you faeries. Unlike us numbskull monsters, you're logical to a fault!"
A faint blush dusted the Priestess' cheeks, though she quickly hid it behind the swoop of her bangs. "Well… Y-You rambunctious beasts often resort to bashing before thinking!"
"Very true," the General bore his perfectly intact set of teeth in a smile. Her fluster brought him subtle satisfaction. The God of Destruction had certainly rubbed off on him. "I must thank you, Priestess. Your information will temporarily set my brothers' minds at ease. But…"
She eyed him carefully. "But that is not all you came for?"
"I came to inquire how you are faring."
"Me?" Dream-Whisperer raised a brow. 'I certainly had not expected that either!'
"Yes," the General nodded, letting his hand fall back down to his side. Wringing both hands together, he met his gaze with slight nervousness. "Are you… well?"
"Oh, yes…" she nodded quickly. Quick enough to raise his suspicion. "Just slightly overwhelmed."
"Would you… care to talk about it?" Boneparte dared to step closer, standing on her left now. He wasn't good with comfort—neither was the God he devoted his worship to—but seeing a "light-dweller" in distress stirred something within his undead heart.
Dream-Whisperer yawned again, and deliberately averted her gaze. Despite her early words of evicting him, her exhaustion won over, and feelings poured out like a river. "I fear without Lady Rubiss' guidance, the Dragonlord will grow too powerful. He's already sought out the Princess and stolen the Orb of Light… and he's terrorizing not only the mortals, but all the faeries too! They all look to me for guidance and I… I don't know what to do. My Lady said to trust Her, and I do. What kind of Priestess would I be if I didn't? But everything is going horribly wrong. At this rate, I'm not sure if the Erdrick will even arrive on time And I can't figure out how to bring Rubiss back-"
"Hey, hey…" Boneparte gently interrupted, reaching out for her hands. His fingers hovered inches away from her skin, itching to brush away a tear that unknowingly slipped from her eye. "You're doing your best, I'm sure of it."
Dream-Whisperer sniffled, and hastily wiped the tears away with the edge of her palm.
"...When was the last time you got a proper slumber?"
Silence. Boneparte frowned and shook his head. "Dream-Whisperer…"
"How can I possibly even begin to think about sleep at a time like this!?" the Priestess exclaimed, unshed tears shimmering in those baby blue irises.
"It might actually help you think," Boneparte said bluntly, and sighed again. "You're obviously sleep-deprived. And stressed. How can you possibly even begin to think about anything in this state??"
Dream-Whisperer bit the inside of her cheek. He had a point.
Patting her shoulder, Boneparte pulled away, albeit with reluctance. "Get some rest, Priestess. You'll do no good to your sisterhood if you're dead on your feet."
She snorted. "Was that another pun of yours?"
"Perhaps," he smirked, bearing his teeth. "Not intentionally. But a victory is a victory."
Dream-Whisperer shook her head and turned away. "I'll take your advice, friend. Perhaps you should follow it too."
"Eh, skeletons don't really sleep, ya know?" Boneparte shrugged his shoulders, taking a step back. He eyed her carefully as she subtly swayed on her feet.
"Of course…" she cast a glance over her shoulder, complementing something. "Let's keep in touch, yes? We can talk about this matter more in depth, another time."
The General's features brightened, if they could. "I'd like that. It'd be like old times."
"Farewell, General." With a kind smile, she waved him off, spread her glimmering wings, and took to the skies.
"Farwell, Priestess…" Boneparte tilted his skull back, watching her sparkling form grow smaller and smaller. "Take care of yourself."
With that, the General turned on his heel, armor thudding as he padded away from the fallen tower. Many times before he had trekked through the familiar halls and heard the squabbles of his Lord and Dream-Whisperer's Lady. The absence of their voices was alarming, unnatural.
He hoped the Goddess would return soon. If only, to bring back his wayward God.
This Dragonlord figure needed to be stopped. And soon…
