#seafra cd

[clan-fuildarach]

happy birthday to the birthday dragons! seafra is my self-indulgent pretty g1 and fallon is my big boy whom i love with all my heart, and both were born on this day last year 

[clan-fuildarach]

so when seafra gets back and the #heistsquad is reunited, she’ll probably have some Things to say about the new regime at the court, and some not-so-nice observations to make about how her friends have changed. 

[clan-fuildarach]

seafra btw decided not to hang around in the citadel to help robin with clean-up. her clan is gone and she has no ties to anyone any more - so she decided to go back to the court. because emiliano and fallon are her only close friends left 

[clan-fuildarach]

i drew seafra whoops 

[clan-fuildarach]

citadel under siege 

delta, seafra, and neven make it to the rezann’s citadel, which is currently held by president robin and her forces against the commander himself. and it looks like delta may know some information that is pertinent to robin’s whole operation

~

Delta had seen a couple of towns in his lifetime. He'd seen the fortresses of the Blacksand Annex and Court Dorchadas. He'd travelled through clans so big that they were townships in their own right. But he'd never seen a city before, let alone a city like this.

The walled citadel on the coast of the Starfall Isles was bigger than any fortress, a dense, sprawling jungle of buildings and roads and train tracks that seemed to have sprouted organically from the bare earth, unplanned. The buildings coated the coastline, their white walls gleaming in the sun, surrounded by huge walls that cut it off from the land to the east and left it open to the sea to the west. But the city had outgrown its own walls in a rather spectacular fashion; unable to spread outwards, it had chosen to grow vertically instead.

Enormous chunks of pink crystal, each one large enough to support a medium-sized clan of dragons, floated over the city. They were connected by bridges made out of densely-woven rope and wooden slats that wouldn't break if the crystals shifted. Buildings grew from the sides of the crystals like cells in a wasp nest, each with its own projecting landing platform for visitors.

The crystals floated quite close together, by the ground, until they almost blocked the light from reaching the terrestrial portion of the city. Further up, the crystals thinned out, until there were only a scant few grazing the base of the clouds.

Both Delta and Seafra had spent the entire morning since their arrival at the citadel by train simply staring. Neven was less impressed; they'd been to the citadel before.

“What happens if one of them falls?” Delta said, his eyes fixed on the cluttered view above. He and his companions were sitting outside a vegetable market by the edge of the cliffs.

“They don't,” Neven said, sorting through their bag of belongings (most of which had been stolen from the train) for anything that they could use in the market to trade for food.

“And people just accept that?” Seafra said, casting the floating crystals a dark look. “I'd go mad, living with those things above me like that.”

“I suppose they're enchanted,” Delta said. He couldn't look away from the crystals. Not only did they float as if weightless, they were moving, too. Like the gears of a clock they seemed to be circling overhead in a fixed pattern so intricate that Delta could hardly imagine the work that went into ensuring they didn't simply crash in mid-air. But there they were, drifting serenely overhead, blocking out the sun every few minutes.

Seafra stretched out her arms and yawned. “Right, so what's the plan for today?”

Delta didn't register her question for a moment. Then he blinked and glanced over at her. “I guess we need to find any signs of your clan, or... or mine.” He didn't really want to think of Clan Fuil Darach right now. The last time he'd seen the clan it had been held hostage, cut down to barely six dragons, stranded in the middle of the enormous desert in the heart of Dragonhome. Guilt washed over him; he'd abandoned his own clan. Maybe it was best if he didn't go back at all. They probably didn't even want him.

“So we'd better ask around,” Seafra said. She nudged Neven. “Anything good in there? I'm starving.”

Neven held out a single gem. “This is all we have.”

Seafra stared glumly at it for a moment before taking it. “It'll buy us breakfast at least. Any requests, Delta?”

“Anything,” he said with a shrug. “I'm – hey!”

A dragon from the crowd of pedestrians had snatched the gem right out of Seafra's hand. With a loud oath she shot after them, the two of them vanishing into the crowd.

This may have been the biggest city in the northern hemisphere, but it was obvious that it had been under a lot of stress lately. It had been occupied by a foreign force, and recently – hours after Delta's group had arrived – the walls and borders had been shut off to newcomers and visitors. The city was, officially, under siege. With the trade routes cut, it was only a matter of time before the stockpiles began to dwindle and more and more dragons turned to thievery.

“Maybe we shouldn't have come here,” Delta said quietly, leaning back against the white stone wall bordering the market. “It's too dangerous.”

“Yes, it is dangerous,” Neven said. “But it's safer here than it is outside. The citadel is almost impervious to attack, even if the one doing the attacking is the Commander.”

That was what the town criers had been shouting about all morning – the gathering of the Commander's troops on two sides of the citadel. He was attacking from the land and the water, catching the citadel between two different forces. His ships choked the harbour beyond the base of the cliffs, further cutting off the city's supply routes.

A battalion of soldiers marched past, bearing the standard of the city's new president, Robin. Two spanners crossed under a twisting flame. Delta didn't know much at all about Robin, but he'd learned a lot since arriving at the city. People said that she was an unparalleled genius, that she'd single-handedly placed all the train tracks in the Isles, that she was the only hope the dragons ever had to defeat Rezann. But it hadn't all been favourable information. People said she was a fraud, that her inventions were a worthless mimicry of what magic could already do, that she didn't stand a chance. Opinions were mixed.

“Delta,” Neven said quietly. “I... I don't like it here.”

Delta was already painfully aware of this. He slung an arm around Neven's narrow, bony shoulders. “We won't be here for long. All we need to do is ask around about our clans, or buy a map or something.”

“Mm.” Neven leant against Delta's side with a sigh. “You know I used to live here. With the Commander.”

“I thought you lived in the barracks?” Delta absently stroked his fingers through their hair.

“I lived here first. This is where he found me.”

Seafra elbowed her way through the crowds, muttering obscenities under her breath. She had not retrieved the gem from the thief. Without a word she came to stand beside Delta her hands spread to show her failure.

“There goes our breakfast,” she said. “Now what?”

“I know where we can find food,” Neven said, pushing away from Delta to stand up straight. They brushed their ragged tunic down self-importantly. “It is an, uh... a place for homeless dragons to find food. It's near here.”

They beckoned and set off. Delta and Seafra trailed along after them, Seafra still cursing under her breath.

“So how do you know this place?” Delta said, as the three of them turned off the main market square and down a narrow alley.

“Well,” Neven said. “I grew up here. This is where my parents left me, when I was young. I almost died, but somebody found me and brought me to the shelter. During the day I couldn't stay there so I slept outside, but I'd come back every night. And then one day I got arrested for begging in the wrong place, and that was how the Commander found me.”

Delta had only heard scraps of this story before. He'd never heard the first part, that Neven had been abandoned. A fragment of memory struck him; the iron-grey sea and white cliffs of the northern Sunbeam Ruins. The desperate grinding hunger and Luke's voice frantically reassuring him that their father would be back soon. All they had to do was wait, and he'd be home.

He stared at Neven's back, his heart breaking. “I'm so sorry, Neven,” he said.

“Yes, well,” Neven said, “it's over now. The Commander saved me. You don't need to be sorry.” With a dismissive wave, they led the pair of guardians down a set of terraced steps. They travelled through increasingly dim and dingy streets, until eventually coming to a nondescript door with the symbol of the Eleven painted over the frame. Neven knocked, then pushed the door open.

It was half-church, half-hostel. Rows of beds lined the walls, and at the end wall was a collection of small shrines, candles burning for each deity. A strong smell of stew filled the air; there was a kitchen area off to one side and a queue of dragons waiting to be served.

As Delta stepped inside, something caught his eye. He turned, frowning, then ran over to the noticeboard just opposite the door. The board was plastered with various notices, including an announcement that the city was under siege and a list of rooms that were currently to-let. But right in the centre was a new notice.

It was a printed illustration of a clan crest. Two oak leaves and an acorn. The text under it read REWARD OFFERED FOR ANYONE WHO CAN IDENTIFY THIS SYMBOL.

He snatched the sheet off the board, then quickly ran back to Neven and Seafra.

“Look!” He brandished the sheet of paper. “That's-”

“That's your clan crest.” Seafra said, her eyebrows rising.

Neven was talking to one of the shelter workers. The worker frowned oddly at Delta, then sidled over. “You know that crest?”

“Yes, that's my crest,” Delta said. “Who wants to know? Who put this here?”

“President Robin's troops have been distributing those all morning,” the worker said. “Apparently it's important to her, for the war effort.” They shrugged. “That's all I know.”

Delta flipped the page over. There was an address on the back, and a small printed map. “Okay,” he said, “you guys stay here and eat. I'll go and check this out.”

“Whatever you like,” Seafra said, “but be careful, okay?”

Delta hesitated for a moment, then tugged off the leather cord from around his neck. He took Neven's hand and carefully pressed the cord – and the tiny pouch that contained his charge – into their palm.

“Keep it safe,” he said.

“I will.” Neven seemed to understand the enormity of the gesture. They closed their fingers around the acorn pouch with a tiny nod, a spark of rare emotion entering their voice for a moment. “Be back soon.”

Delta pressed a kiss to their cheek, then left.

The map was easy enough to follow, once he understood which way was which. He walked at a brisk pace for a couple of minutes, missing the tiny weight of his charge against his chest. It was odd, though – he didn't feel nearly as anxious as he thought he'd feel, leaving it behind.

Eventually, he found himself standing outside a small barracks near the wall of the city. President Robin's banner had been strung over the door, hiding the old moth sigil that had been carved into the wall behind it.

He knocked, then let himself in. The place was utilitarian and bare, full of soldiers. Behind a small barrier were shelves and shelves packed with equipment.

A soldier approached Delta, spear in hand. “State your business.”

Delta raised the sheet of paper like a shield. “It's about this,” he said.

The soldier quickly lowered the spear. “Do you know that crest?”

There was no way of telling if Delta was helping his clan or hurting it by identifying the crest to the soldiers here. But this was the only way he had of locating his clan and somehow reuniting with it. So he nodded. “Yes. That's Clan Fuil Darach's crest. I'm the – er, I mean, I used to belong to that clan.”

Everything passed in a rush after that. The soldier brought Delta into the barracks and told him to wait. He sat by the wall, his heart pounding as soldiers moved all around. Someone offered him a cup of tea. This heartened him; if he was being imprisoned or interrogated, they wouldn't be giving him tea. He hoped.

Finally, the door of the barracks opened again and a new guardian strode in. She was tall, her long hair pinned back. Her uniform was devoid of any fancy details, a utilitarian black, but somehow Delta knew that she was someone important. Trotting behind her was a young bespectacled skydancer boy and a mirror swathed in greenish-brown furs, a giant bow at her back.

The guardian came to a halt in front of Delta. “My name is Robin,” she said. “Now. Tell me all you know about this Clan Fuil Darach.”

“Why?” Delta said, thoroughly taken aback.

“Because,” she said, “two nights ago a ship bearing this standard-” She held up the poster of the crest again- “was seen in the bay between Arcane and Wind territory. At that time, Commander Rezann's army was trying to make land with a quarter of his artillery in that bay. We tried to stop them, but they destroyed our defences with ease. And then this one ship – this tiny civilian vessel – somehow took out the entire flotilla, artillery and all.” She lowered the poster and rolled it up with a few deft movements.

“Oh,” Delta said quietly. “Is that bad?”

“Bad?” she said, her dark purple eyes widening. “It's amazing. We need that ship on our side. It could be an invaluable resource. Right now we're under siege from three sides, and if not for that ship it would be four. If you could help us, we'd be so grateful. Not to mention the reward...”

Delta cleared his throat, trying to avoid the somewhat creepy gaze of the mirror behind Robin. “All right,” he said. “I'll tell you what I know.”

[clan-fuildarach]

have u guys.... seen seafra lately.... 

she’s so gorgeous i die every time i see her

[clan-fuildarach]

the railway children 

delta, seafra, and neven stumble across one of the unfortunate side-effects of industrialisation. then they catch a train. 

~

By the time Delta reached the western border of Dragonhome, he felt just about ready to give up. They'd passed right through the old Fuil Darach territory, which was as hopelessly empty as ever. Then Seafra had brought him and Neven to her territory which was equally empty and equally hopeless.

“No,” she said, staring down the valley at the desolation. “No, I swear it was here – there was a forest...” Arms out for balance, she skidded down the slope. Neven stuck close behind her, effortlessly navigating the mess of churned earth and exposed boulders. Delta followed with a little more caution, casting a wary glance over his shoulder.

The place looked eerily similar to the old Fuil Darach territory, but it had been like this for longer. New shoots of scutch grass had started to push up through the exposed soil at the bottom of the valley. But the trees that had been chopped down would not grow back. Stumps lined the valley, and without the support of living roots the soil had started to slip down the slope, piling untidily into what had once been a river, but was now a thin muddy trickle.

“Are you sure?” Neven asked bluntly. “There is no one here. I can not even smell anyone. You must be wrong.”

“I'm not wrong,” Seafra snapped, frantically scanning the decrepit valley.

“You are mistaken,” Neven said, wandering away a few paces to prod curiously at a rotting tree stump.

“How could I be mistaken about my own home?” There was more distress than anger in Seafra's voice. “I grew up here.”

Delta set a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. She leaned into his touch, seeking support of any kind.

There wasn't really much to see in the valley. Someone had come in, cut up all the trees, and left. Delta would have assumed that the trees had been taken as building supplies, but there were no visible buildings or structures. And who would have cut down so much wood only to fly it away from here, when far more accessible forests cloaked most of the shared border with the Starfall Isles? It didn't make sense.

“Come on,” he said, “we'll just keep going west. Maybe we'll find signs of your clan, right? They can't have gone far.”

With a small nod, Seafra drifted away from him, down to the uneven valley floor. Deep tracks cut through the mud, as if someone had driven a wagon of some kind along the ground. Bare to the elements, the valley was a natural wind tunnel. With a shiver, Delta drew his grubby blanket closer around his shoulders.

“Hey,” he said in undertone, nudging Neven. “This couldn't have been Rezann, could it? I mean, it looks so much like what happened to our clan...”

Neven shrugged helplessly. “It is possible. The Commander did come through here. But...” They indicated the tree stump. “Maybe things have changed since I was his general. But when I travelled with the army we did not cut wood like this. And if we needed to clear trees we would just destroy them. There would not be anything left if the Commander had done this.”

Travelling west would only put them closer to the Commander's stronghold by the Observatory. But there was nowhere else to go; south was the inhospitable Scarred Wasteland, north was the ocean, and east was Court Dorchadas. At least in the Starfall Isles they could perhaps catch a ship south to the Whirlwind Plateau. That was Neven's home country, and perhaps their kin, the elusive Venzan dragons, could help them.

There weren't a lot of options.

“Okay,” Delta said, under his breath. Seafra, still standing in ankle-deep mud at the bottom of the valley, didn't seem capable of deciding to move on. “Seafra?” he said, gingerly making his way down the slope towards her. “Hey, we can't stay here. C'mon.”

She nodded, quickly turning away to unobtrusively wipe her eyes as he approached. He pretended not to see, glancing politely to one side.

“You know,” she said dryly, as the three of them climbed the western slope, “it's times like this when I miss that fucking dungeon.” Another blast of freezing wind dragged her hair across her face. She waved it irritably away. “At least we got regular meals there.”

There was a pointed undertow to her words. Winter had gone one for so long that there was almost nothing to eat around the wasteland of Dragonhome, which had in turn forced the three of them to save energy by walking rather than flying.

The Starfall Isles were forested. Apparently. As the three of them crossed the border, nothing really changed. Desolate fields of tree stumps stretched out in all directions.

“I wish that shade guy had given us a map,” Seafra muttered.

Delta was about to speak – to suggest finding a shelter for the evening, before the frost set in – but Neven stopped dead. They held up a hand for silence.

“There is something...” They trailed off, ears twitching, and pushed past Seafra to take the lead. Directly ahead, lit from behind by the setting sun, was a huge, tangled stand of briars. Neven pushed through it, ignoring the thorns, forcing Delta to bend double to fit through the tunnel they made.

On the other side of the briars was a raised bank, like a levee at the side of a river. But Delta couldn't hear any water. He climbed the short slope and paused, eyes widening.

A pair of shining parallel metal tracks had been set into the earth, separated by wooden sleepers. Gravel had been poured into place under the tracks. They were roughly five feet wide, polished to an impossible shininess on top. The tracks stretched endlessly away from west to east, vanishing into the distance.

“What the...” Seafra poked one of the tracks with a foot. “I don't remember these being here.”

Neven crouched by the tracks and set both hands on the shiny metal. They recoiled after only a moment.

“There is something coming,” they said.

Delta could just about hear it, at the very edge of his awareness – a faint resonance, as if the metal tracks were vibrating like a tuning fork. He'd seen tracks like this before, only those had borne Rezann's cannons, and had been fifteen feet wide at the very least. And he'd seen the distant cannon crews constructing and de-constructing the tracks as the cannons passed, leaving nothing behind but deep furrows in the earth.

“More cannons?” he guessed.

A bright light lit up in the east, opposite the setting sun. It was a flickering lantern-light, and above it streamed a plume of white steam. The vibration of the tracks grew louder.

“Should we hide?” Seafra said helplessly. “What is that?”

“I don't know.” Delta had never seen anything like it. The orange sunlight illuminated the front of the approaching machine, but what he saw made no sense to him. It was turning a shallow bend in the tracks, revealing a trailing line of boxes pulled in its wake, mounted on metal wheels that spat sparks into the encroaching night. An unfamiliar crest was emblazoned on the side of the machine.

“It's going west,” Seafra said suddenly. “Hey – look, some of those carriages are open.” She pointed.

Delta caught her meaning and quickly shook his head. “No way – no, we can't-”

“Look how fast it's going! We'd be at the Observatory by this time tomorrow. There's a whole city there, we're bound to find help,” Seafra said eagerly.

“There could be anything inside that machine,” Delta said, backing away.

The noise of the thing's engine was getting so loud that he had to shout to make himself heard. Seafra ducked into the brambles again as, quite suddenly, the machine was unbearably close. Its front part shot past, pulling the boxes along in its wake. The noise and wind generated by the thing was incredible.

Seafra was getting ready to jump.

There was nothing to do but follow. Delta wouldn't allow her to blunder into enemy territory alone, without his help. So when the open-sided box approached, he seized Neven's hand and jumped.

The noise wasn't any better inside the box. Delta sat down on a stack of crates and stared in amazement at the countryside whipping past beyond the confines of the box. He had to admit that it was better than walking – maybe even better than flying, since there was no effort on his part.

Seafra poked through one of the crates and came up grinning, a stack of woollen blankets in her arms. The same unfamiliar crest marked each blanket. She tossed one to Delta, who took it with a nod of thanks, vaguely overwhelmed.

“Hey!” Neven called over the rattle of the machine, “there is food here!” They'd uncovered a crate full of vegetables packed in straw. Another crate held bundles of meat.

Although the three of them shared the easiest and most comfortable meal in weeks, Delta could not sleep afterwards. He sat by the opening and watched the fields and fields of tree stumps flash by. By the time the setting sun had finally covered the land in darkness, he still had not seen a single forest.

[clan-fuildarach]

one other thing to consider: when seafra was trying to fake xandra being her charge, she “proved” her loyalty by getting xandra’s crest tattooed over her chest 

so now she’s just marked forever with the crest of a ruler who turned out to be a fake puppet in the end. that’s gotta sting