Mending
Light filtered through the trees, their steps softened by fresh grass and the softness of earth. She'd not wanted to - Atiyath was still unconscious, left in the cavern they'd claimed for themselves, alone but for Kanti, who was to take care of him.
This world had been populated by the Brotherhood dragons before - the vegetation was Avishraan, spread out in wild tangles across a mostly wild planet. But this was this hemisphere's winter, and even for Avishraan standards, summers were unbearable. But the plants had found their footing here, though her captor seemed intrigued by the particular nature of the grass on this world.
Either way, an early explorer's world - devoid of other intelligent life that would pose a problem to things done in secrecy. And despite the planet's age, animal life was scarce enough to cast the lush forests into an eerie silence. It was like a smothering loneliness.
She had been given no time on Tel'kael to mourn her losses - and the pain in her skull was still maddening, though the fast pace of all around her had kept much of it from washing in on her, self-preservation the higher law. But the night... - the night had been horrible. Unable to sleep, she had sat up in the sealed cavern, shivering from the temperature within her, and paid her respects with what was best described as a prayer.
And right now there was very little else she yearned for more than answers. Answers, and then everything else that would distract her from the hollowness in her skull, her broken identity. Her protective urge towards Atiyath was more than mere brotherly love - how could she possibly bear losing the last living member of her family to some unnatural death?
She has so many questions. He had yet to divulge his name - it was like some haunting secret, as though knowledge of it would grant some arcane power of this otherwise untamable beast. But even a name would do little to explain his identity... his actions only yesterday, his cruel precision, his glance of intent. And who was she? He cast commands unto her more frequently than to Kemeneth, but when he had sent her to fetch water, she could have sworn she had seen them kiss. And whilst she was treated like an inferior, she carried herself in a better-than-you fashion, as though she knew something that Kemeneth did not.
And now this - hauled from her sleep and into the forest fringes. 'Your change is none of their business.' Image upon image haunted her, of returning to Atiyath to find him in throes of death, with a previously concealed, glinting knife in the hands of the wretched female, and a gaping, bleeding hole in her brother's gut... - Atiyath, no! Atiyath... - but even her mindlink to him seemed fickle, as though the temperatures were stifling the connection.
As such, the greater their distance to the cavern became, the greater her claustrophobia was, reaching around her windpipe as though it wanted to choke her. It was as though she were dooming her brother to die, simply by not being there - and that even if Kanti did strike the blow, it would have been her fault, and not that of this stranger's companion. But it was nonsense, of course, she wanted to dismiss - and failed, emotions too strong.
Kemeneth shivers and follows the taller dragon, her shape twitching slightly. She gritted her teeth slightly and swallowed hard, trying to relax but finding herself unable to do so. She didn't speak though and kept moving, letting her wings drag slightly as she lowered her head. A shudder runs through her and a hiss slips from her mouth and she drags a forepaw over her face, trying to ignore the mental pain.
The stranger's glance is cast upwards, towards the trees. They've been walking for long minutes until he pauses in his stride and narrows his eyes in some scrutiny of a particularly thick trunk. "Here will suffice, apprentice," he informs, gesturing for her to seat herself.
Kemeneth twitches, then sits down, her head lowering further. She is alert and listening intently to him though. A twitch runs through her and she nibbles at a claw almost distractedly but clearly anxiously. She looks around a little then before she swallows and looks up towards him.
The stranger extends his left forepaw towards the wrinkled bark of the tree, before nodding quietly to himself, then turning back to 'his apprentice.' "My name is Shahrivrath of the family Argentha-Azratha," he begins. "However, you will refer to me as 'master' until your teachings are complete."
Kemeneth twitches and lowers her head respectfully. "Yes, Master," she breathes. "I... - I thank you for taking me as your apprentice..." she winces a little, a flash of pain burning through her before she smiles, very faintly.
"I want you to know how we are going to proceed, apprentice," Shahrivrath continues, folding his forepaws infront of him and glancing at her meaningfully. "I commend you for the choice you have made, but unfortunately, none of this will be simple." He runs his right forepaw across his antennae, an expression like a wince briefly appearing on his muzzle. "We will have to find your weakened natural axes of power, and realign your magic with them, so it resonates with harmony, rather than warping you as it wishes."
Kemeneth twitches then nods, swallowing hard. "I see," she whispered. "And if it resonates with harmony I can use it instead of it using me... right...?" she blinked up at him, clearly trying hard to understand. Her eyes brighten slightly then as she adds: "I am ready to do whatever I am asked... Master."
Her question is answered with a pausing nod, before he folds his forepaws again and continues. "Once we have shifted the axes, we will need to lock them in place. Only then can we begin to regenerate the destruction it's caused." He explains, before his eyes light up suddenly, then narrow. "Wait. Have you had your second manifestation yet?" His scrutiny of her is intense.
Kemeneth smiles ever so faintly before she nods in understanding. As Shahrivrath questions her, she wrinkles her muzzle and shakes her head. "No... I have not..." she trails off, chewing slightly at her lower lip, an antenna falling over one eye. The young dragoness fidgets a little before she becomes still.
Her master's face scrunches up longer this time. "That will complicate things," he explains, heaving a meaningful sigh. "We'll have to trigger it."
Kemeneth twitches and swallows hard before she blinks. "How will we trigger it Master?"
He's quiet, clearly brooding over the new problem, his reptilian brows furrowed, wingtips flexing with a certain nervousness. His mind races with the different possibilities. Did anything speak against doing it before the second manifestion, really? It would be harder to tame, but this was a Srian, not a Kaean. But it bore the risk of her becoming magically crippled - the magic forever out of her reach.
Kemeneth is silent now, her shape twitching before she rubbed at her face with both forepaws, tilting her head slightly. She swallowed then, slightly, her eyes drifting semi-closed.
He seems distant for a moment, before asking: "What do you know about second manifestions?" He begins to pace slightly, running thought over thought through his mind, hoping to find a viable solution.
Kemeneth swallows hard. "I don't know very much. I only know that after it has happened I can use my magic..." she shivers a little, looking up at him.
"I see," he murmurs, more to himself, before taking a deep breath to elaborate. "The second manifestation occurs when your natural axes of power and the magical axes reach maximum asynchronity. At that point, something has to break. What does break, ultimately, is the fabric of space around you. This can be relatively benign in most cases, though if wrongly channelled... such as by anger - then it is destructively explosive. At that point, the bridge between the axes of power realigns, giving way to the angles of your magical axes. Your body takes on the purpose of little more than a shell."
"The Brotherhoods would tell you that you have no need for your body when you've unlocked your magic. It's foolish. The magic is a parasite that uses you as a tool. You believe Avikael to be revered - but she is a hideously manipulative spirit. If her magic controls you, it is convenient to her. But we will shape you so that you will control it."
Kemeneth listens, almost inhaling all the knowledge that Shahrivrath is imparting. She nods a little then, before she asks: "Who do... eh..." She pauses, wondering how to phrase her question. "Who do you revere...?" She rubs at her head with a forepaw then, the ache in her skull, making her twitch.
He seems to have decided on a course of action, ignoring her questions and instead approaching her and gripping her jaw in one forepaw. "We will proceed," he informs, simply, pushing a free claw's tip into the center of her forehead. "Hold still," he instructs, before the claw sinks past her skin and into the bone of her skull, the subtle parting of bone grinding through her in a sensation that should be - but isn't - pain.
Kemeneth whines a note then holds still, whimpering deep in her throat but she doesn't move. She shudders then, panting weakling but doesn't actually pull away from him.
For long, aching moments, nothing happens, before something seems to tug at her bones. It feels as though something is trying to distort her skeleton, as though bones were shifting under her skin, pressing against it from the inside, rolling within her - while none of it is the case. The strain of joints seems impossible, as though they were about to- something near her spine flares into a sudden, furious, overwhelming pain.
Kemeneth screams with pain, shuddering hard before she falls silent, her eyes fully closed. She does not pull away, although she wants to. Panting, tears trickle down her face.
An impossible pain radiates out from where she would assume to feel her shoulderblades, as though they were somehow being dented, gradually, about to splinter and shatter under the pressure. What had felt like her spine folding seems to undo itself, radiating a cold kind of pain, as though it were being contained not by muscles but by some void that spread out through her body and was distantly capable of sensation.
Kemeneth crumples, sagging against the taller dragon now, panting weakly. Her eyes closed she whines wealy, tears pouring down her face. Combined with the pain in her skull already, this was almost unbearable.
As she sags, the pain abruptly stops, Shahrivrath withdrawing his claw, panting, but catching her with his free arm, almost gentle in its motion. "I told you to hold still," he snarls, though, a brow twitching. "That could have been your death."
Kemeneth whimpers. "I'm sorry..." she drags a forepaw across her face. "I tried... I just..." she shudders. "I felt myself sagging and I couldn't do anything to stop it, or so it felt." She doesn't look up at him now, trembling harder.
He regards her critically, before carefully setting her down onto the ground, handling her weight with ease. He glances towards the tree, a bitter expression flashing across his face, before he shrugs in idle gesture. "Rest and get your energies back, apprentice. We still have a lot ahead of us."
Kemeneth nods, panting weakly. "Yes, Master," she almost purrs, her voice shaking. She lets her eyes drift closed then and her shape relaxed. A shiver runs through her and she licks at her lips slightly.