“Everything stowed and secured?” Hautdilong said. He was dressed in his fleece-lined leather jacket along with a heavy pair of leggings and sturdy boots, with a pair of goggles perched atop his head and a wool scarf tucked around his neck.
[Yes!] Ehll Tou said, bouncing in place. The bags strapped to her sides barely shifted, and their weight was comfortingly familiar, the sign that all of her usual tools and Hautdilong’s supplies had been packed.
“Flight plan registered?”
[Yes!] Ehll Tou held up a stamped copy. While the relationship between dragon and man had drastically improved over the years, when flying to and from Ishgard, it was wise to alert the Temple Knights of her intention to do so. Some knights, unfortunately, still had poor reactions to suddenly spotting a dragon winging her way towards the city, and passing along her itinerary meant the wall guard knew to keep an eye out for her crimson scales.
“Did you remember the bag with the void storage metafold this time?” her friend said.
[Yes, I did,] Ehll Tou said primly. [It’s in the left rear pannier, with the canteens and your snacks.]
Hautdilong did his own check. The dragon rolled her eyes, but let him, because it was always good to double check, and she had forgotten that bag Synnove had made for her on their last supply excursion.
“All right, it is here,” he said, “so we are ready.”
Ehll Tou ducked her head down and to the side, reaching up to slide her beloved hat off her horn. (She loved her arms and hands, but it was so frustrating how short they were in proportion to her neck. At least her neck was as sinuous as it would have been if her change had been into a more traditional shape.) Hautdilong took it and stowed it away, and then she helped boost him up onto her back.
The Ishgardian airship docks were quiet this time of morning; the predawn airships to Limsa Lominsa and Ul’dah had just left, and the one bound for Gridania was still a little over a bell away from departure. Ehll Tou trotted through the landing, waving along with Hautdilong at dockworkers they knew, until they reached the pier that had come to be reserved for dragons.
She did one last bounce-and-check of their supplies, which let Hautdilong know it was time for him to pull his goggles down, and then she crouched at the end of the pier. She had strong wings, but they had a great distance to cover before they reached Anyx Trine, and a running start would be easier on her in the long run.
Also, the drop was so much fun.
[Ready?]
“Ready!”
Ehll Tou crouched lower and opened her wings slightly, fluttering them to test the air. And then she burst into a flat sprint, speeding down the pier, and snapped her wings fully open as she cleared the edge.
They plunged downdowndowndowndown, Hautdilong whooping with glee just behind her. Ehll Tou couldn’t join his exuberance just yet, her attention currently on the currents that swirled and raged around Ishgard, the pair of them dropping through the fog—
There we go!
She dipped her wings to the left, turning them just so to catch a gust coming up from the Sea of Clouds, and let the wind carry them up and around the city in a gentle curving arc. A twitch of her head and neck further back to send them further up and faster, and she waved at the Temple Knights along the walls where the old harpoon mounts used to be located. They were far enough away that she couldn’t see much detail, but she did catch a pair of knights waving back.
They did a full loop around the city, her wings angling carefully to catch new air currents, rising higher and higher, until they were high above Ishgard. And it was at this great height, with no towers to impede it, that Ehll Tou found the current that would slingshot them westwards to Dravania. One flap got them just enough altitude to hit that current, and they were off like a shot, and now her own laughter joined Hautdilong’s.
Ehll Tou loved the ability to create with her hands, and she loved to sing, but there was no greater joy for a dragon than flying.
Morgane Sejois wanders the streets of the Firmament.
It's busy - adventurers from across the realm are fast working on the next stage of the Reconstruction. Carpenters and blacksmiths and leatherworkers and even cooks. She'd passed by the most delicious-smelling food on the way over. People clamour all around, eager to proceed with the work and prepare enough materials for the sudden influxes of intense activity she knows to occur as ground is cleared.
Her fingers run over the stone of the fountain at Saint Roelle's Dias, and a smile graces her lips.
... only for the smile to slip away as she rounds the corner and catches sight of the being before her there.
[Spoiler warnings for the ending of Ehll Tou’s custom delivery questline below the cut!]
It's... a dragon. But not any normal form of a dragon. Not an aevis, or a giant dragon like those who have flown by in the peacetime, or one of the freakish ones who walk like men. Not even one like Nidhogg and his vile brood.
It does stand on two legs, but nothing like a man would. Instead, it clutches a hammer between its oddly-shaped claws, tapping away at a sheet of metal. There's a young boy standing next to it, and she stamps down on her reflex to try and protect the boy. It's peacetime, Morgane. And a crafting dragon is hardly a danger to the boy. What is it going to do, thwack his fingers with a hammer?
Still, she can't help the reaction.
Nor can she help the rest of what she feels.
Her fingers curl in on themselves, and she crosses her arms over her chest. Tugs at the cheap fabric of her coat, trying to breathe steady. Every ragged exhalation has her breath curl and mist in the air, a reminder of her failure to calm down for every moment that passes.
Control yourself, Morgane.
Do not embarrass us in public, child.
Control yourself. I'd ask what's wrong with you, but perhaps I should ask your mother that.
Halone, at this point I would simply give you away to the first man of status to ask.
She hisses a breath through her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Oh! Hello there!"
She blinks.
... The boy. The boy is speaking to her.
Without thinking about it, focused as she was on her breathing, she's.. approached the boy and the dragon.
"I don't think I know you, my lady. Are you another crafter here to help Ehll Tou?!"
She blinks, looking back and forth between the pair, then shakes her head.
"Oh. Well, then. My name is Hautdilong, and I hope to write about man and dragonkind's ongoing peace. And this is Ehll Tou; she's my very good friend, and a Crafter of the Firmament besides!"
She.
The dragon before her is a woman. Perhaps even a girl.
Morgane opens her mouth, making a few choked noises. Her claws talons nails scratch across her forearms beneath her coat.
Hautdilong frowns. "Are you alright, my lady?"
She closes her mouth; forces herself to nod. "Y-yes."
There. She found her voice. She's still capable of speech.
Through all of this, the dragon - Ehll Tou - has simply kept focusing on her crafting. Hammering carefully away at the bronze plate. Her tongue sticks out as she concentrates on her work, barely blinking. Do dragons even blink?
... This one definitely isn't blinking. So Morgane is going to go with no. Either that, or she truly is dedicated to her craft.
"I've... never seen a dragon like your friend before." The word friend comes out harsher than she intends, and she winces at herself, for how she must sound. "Nor one with any interest in creation."
That seems to enliven Hautdilong. He beams. "Oh, yes! She's quite unique for the moment. A peacetime growth. Dragons can grow up all sorts of different ways depending on what they need, it's honestly amazing. Who knows how she'd have turned out in the war; but because she was so interested in crafting, she ended up like this!"
They... grow based on their desires and passions? Morgane feels a chill sweep through her, and not simply from the air of the Firmament. She knows her fears are illogical, but she cannot help but feel them. "That is... certainly unique. You said 'for the moment'?"
As if on cue, a dragonet sweeps past, scampering over the statue of Halone behind them, then flies away.
Hautdilong beams. "As more and more young dragons grow their passion for creation, I hope we'll see more dragons like Ehll Tou! Peaceful dragons; something new and exciting to celebrate this new peace between Ishgard and Dragonkind."
Ehll Tou seems satisfied with her work, and makes a tiny growl of satisfaction before lowering her hammer. As she looks up from her work, she seems to notice Morgane for the first time. She looks back and forth between Morgane and Hautdilong.
Oh. Hello! The voice resonates through my mind, loud and clear. Morgane takes a shocked step backwards.
Hautdilong groans and thwacks Ehll Tou's arm with the back his hand, lightly. "Ehll Tou! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that when people aren't expecting it?"
And how, exactly, do I make them expect it?
"I don't know! Oh, maybe you could write a note to give to people?"
So I am to silently approach a man, hand them a note, and then, only after they have read it, begin to speak?
"... Hmm." Hautdilong taps his chin with the feather of his quill. "I'll have to think more about it."
The exchange is light. Jovial. But Morgane is petrified.
She takes one step back, then two. And before she knows what she's doing, she's walking away from the pair as fast as is deemed polite and appropriate.
"I'm sure I'll come up with-- hey, wait!"
She hears the boy running after her, and closes her eyes as she stops walking to allow him to catch up.
Breathe. In and out.
"I-I'm sorry about that. I should've warned you - dragonspeech can be a little surprising to people. Are you alright, my lady?"
She opens her eyes, and forces a wan smile. "Yes, of course. My apologies, it simply... caught me off guard."
Hautdilong nods. "I imagine it must've felt a little strange and unfamiliar. But I do promise you that Ehll Tou and every other dragon here is friendly, if you ever wish to talk with them."
Her nails clamp down on her arms. Her teeth dig into her cheek. "Of course," she says. "I'll do that. She seems a remarkable girl."
Hautdilong's smile grows, and he doesn't stand in her way as she begins to walk again.
As she walks away, she thinks about every step she takes. About her breathing. About trying not to cry.
She doesn't think about his words. She doesn't think about the fact that strangeness had been far from her mind as Ehll Tou spoke.
And she definitely doesn't think about how familiar it had felt.
