Lore: Purpose
I know I’ve made a lot more posts than usual over the past few days >.> But this one’s been sitting on my computer for a while so I may as well stick it here before I forget. Remember that incident between Lyra and Iah I mentioned?
--
Iah was missing again.
“It’s not entirely unusual,” Greldort said, calmly straightening up the shelves in her den. “He has always been prone to wandering. That much, at least, has not changed.” Her secondary eyes flickered slightly, the only sign Lyra had ever seen that the mirror was less than pleased with her mate’s decisions.
“Yes, he told me he had been feeling the urge to Search for his Charge,” the little fae said, doing what little she could to help. Her small, frail limbs were not suited for moving large objects, but she could tidy up lost buttons and thread at least. It comforted her, being with other Lightning dragons in this strange new place. Her aqua eyes gleamed as she sorted through the scraps. “But surely it would be less now?” she asked. “He is not a guardian anymore.”
Greldort huffed and shook her head. “If anything, it is worse. I never see him now, except in passing. Sussuri always held his heart most strongly, but he used to at least sit with me when there were no tasks to do. I don’t know what’s gotten into him… and I can’t ask. Iah’s more strongly Shadow than any of the others. No one can find him if he doesn’t want to be found.”
Lyra flattened her frills, but said nothing and finished helping Greldort.
--
She found him in an old, overgrown corner of the training grounds. Lyra was not entirely surprised; she’d seen little motes of his soul lingering in hidden glades, abandoned rooms, and other forgotten parts of the Southern Star’s holdings over the past few days. They were thickest here, a sure sign that he visited often. It worried her. The living weren’t supposed to lose fragments, not like this.
Perching in the shade of the underbrush, she watched as the skydancer patiently hacked chunks out of the practice dummy with his slender claws and fangs. There was an almost manic intensity to his movements, and tiny fragments of his spirit flickered in the air around him, thick as rain.
The lights flared, then went out, as Iah finally finished, practically collapsing in exhaustion. Lyra fluttered over, landing beside him.
Lyra? he thought to her. I thought I’d sensed you… it’s getting easier. A weary smile creased his features.
“You fight well,” the fae said. Her tiny claws flickered with light as she started gathering up the little soul motes he’d lost and bottling them up with the rest.
The skydancer looked away. No. Before… when I was still myself, I could have shattered it in one blow. I could go for hours… Now, I’m weak. A hatchling. His claws were bloody, already starting to bruise.
“You are tired. You should rest.”
Perhaps you are right… But I cannot afford to rest. Iah stretched his wings slightly and stood up. He was still so very unsteady in his small body, and weariness made him sway where he stood.
Lyra touched his broken claws, earning a pained hiss. “Why do you push so hard?” she asked. “Your body won’t hold out under this.”
Iah raised his forepaw, inspecting the awful tears with an empty stare. I am more useful to Papa in this form. He wants me this way. But I was a guardian. I was born to protect. He lowered his claws again, settling his weight gingerly; his wrists had begun to swell. I could feel it, Lyra, right before I changed. I’d found my Charge.
Lyra’s eyes widened. “What was it?”
The skydancer shut his dark eyes. I… don’t know. I can’t… I cannot remember. But someone in that room, I was born for them. He opened his eyes again and turned his gaze to the stars. I wonder if it was Papa? Is that why he found my egg?
“You think Fate brought you together?” the fae asked. She fluttered upward and perched on his shoulder.
His quiet laugh echoed in her mind. Yes. Something like that.
Lyra leaned against his soft neck and pulled out the little glass bauble that contained all the motes she had gathered tonight. Even in the darkness and beside their owner, their light was so very faint. “And so you train,” she whispered.
Iah nodded, turning his head to look at her. Yes. I must. Papa has no use for me now. The guardian keeps him busy. But one day he will have need of me again, and I must be strong for him. It… gives me purpose.
The fae reached up and touched the tip of his nose, brushing back and curving her hand down to rest against his lower jaw. “Then let me help you, Iah. Your claws need seeing to, and I’ve still got some of Rhiangar’s salve. If you wear yourself ragged, you’re no use to anyone.” She fell silent for a few moments, then added, much softer, “Once you’ve mended, I’ll join you here. Gods know I could use the practice, and someone must keep an eye on you.”
Iah obediently sat and let her clean and bandage his hands. She was no healer; her movements were clumsy and unpracticed. But she was gentle, and that was enough. Even without his skydancer empathy, he could feel her concern for him. The grey dragon leaned forward as she finished, brushing his cheek against hers. What would I do without you, Lyra?
“Probably work yourself to death,” the fae replied, trying hard to keep her frills from betraying how surprised and flustered she was by his gesture. “Come on,” she said, patting his forearm, “let’s get you inside. It’s nearly dawn.”