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H - 44: You Tell Her
🕑 Added 2024-06-28 00:23:00 +0000 UTCKaln was not a fighter. Even in the rougher taverns he and the other scribes had sometimes frequented, he’d always been proud of his ability to talk his way out of fights with even the most drunk and aggressive dockworkers. So he’d simply never realized how liberating it felt to just haul off and punch someone in the face.
Especially if that someone was a dragon. Vanimax was right—this felt good.
Vanimax’s head was whipped back by the force of the hit, but he retaliated instantly with his claws, slashing across Kaln’s whole upper body and forcing him to block. He could block a punch, although the way the crossed forearms in front of his face seemed to actually protect him from a talon that could have picked him up was almost comical. One of Kaln’s old drinking buddies had been a city guard who insisted on showing all the scribes basic moves whenever she was hammered.
With a roar, the dragon sank his rear claws into the ground and beat his wings, creating a burst of wind that made Kaln stagger back a few steps. In the moment he was off-balance, Vanimax whipped around fully, smacking him with a sweep of his tail.
Kaln was sent flying; he landed on his feet, hard, but continued to slide with the force of the blow, leaving two long rents in the ground beneath him before he ground to a halt, and that was when he really processed that something was very wrong about all this.
Moving or being moved in that way was absurd; he just wasn’t heavy enough. Under normal physics, being hit like that would have pulverized him. Under the modified godling physics he’d been working with, being attacked by dragons was a complete non-experience, having zero effect on him while he stood like a Timestone pillar. Indeed, the first couple of awkward blows had gone that way, until he’d concentrated and…
Well, this was new.
Vanimax charged across the ground toward him, and grinning in liberated delight, Kaln rushed to meet him. He got in two good punches before the dragon seized him in his jaws and threw him skyward—another thing he’d been specifically unable to do previously. Kaln teleported right back to the ground at his side and shoulder-checked him in the ribs, which hit way harder than should have been possible because Vanimax not only toppled over onto his sized but skidded across the ground.
They circled, charged, struck, retreated, trading blows and repeatedly flinging each other back, but suffering no damage to speak of. Kaln, in the back of his mind, was becoming aware of new things even as he focused his attention on what he was doing. Vanimax’s emotional state, for one; fortunately he was actually enjoying this too. No great surprise, it having been his idea. More importantly, though, was the rising pressure of his godhead subtly expanding.
Vanimax shot aloft, sailing around in a tight arc to strafe Kaln with a blast of fire. The heat and flames had no effect on him, as usual. He teleported to a position directly above the dragon and clobbered him with a double-handed blow, sending them both crashing back down to earth, where they rolled for a short distance exchanging slashes and slaps before separating again.
The difference was obvious, now that he thought about it; Kaln wasn’t just passively being impervious to dragons, but actively maintaining control over it. He was not frustratingly impossible for Vanimax to assail, nor was he truly vulnerable. Nor, for that matter, was he instinctively reacting to and perfectly repelling every attack as he had with Vadaralshi. He had latched onto an emotional need, the desire to clear the air between them, and forged a new aspect of his powers out of it. Who knew that play-fighting was all it would take?
This was important, he sensed. His actual capabilities were expanding, sure, but that came with a metaphysical change. He could feel it in the welling up of the power within him, growing in a way it hadn’t since his confrontation with Atraximos. This was not lording over dragons, but meeting one on his own level.
Also, it was still fun.
He found himself grinning as he kicked one of Vanimax’s leg’s out from under him and nailed him with an uppercut when he overbalanced. So was Vanimax, who retaliated by sweeping Kaln aside with one wing, then driving him further back with a jab to his chest from his tail weapon. Back home, Kaln had privately disdained people who could only seem to settle differences with their fists; he was a man of words. It was starting to feel like he owed some people apologies.
Kaln darted forward again, tracking unpredictably back and forth as he charged and forcing Vanimax to guess where the blow would fall. Too wise to play along, Vanimax opened his jaws, flickers igniting along his teeth as he prepared to blast Kaln back again.
A deafening roar split the air, ringing off the mountains behind them.
She plunged down at a steep angle, landing so hard that the earth trembled and Kaln nearly lost his footing. Instantly, Izayaroa surged forward from her impact point, placing herself between them and flattening her entire body to the earth, neck and head pressed to the ground and wings lowered to either side.
“Husband, please.”
The open pleading in her tone took him aback; belatedly, he recognized her posture as one of submission. Absolutely the last thing he had ever expected to see from her.
“I beg you, Kaln, don’t! Please. All of this is my fault, I will take full responsibility. I will make this right. If you will only show my son mercy—”
“Whoah, whoah, wait!” he babbled in horror, finally catching on. Kaln frantically waved his hands. “No, it’s not like that! It’s fine, everything’s fine!”
“It’s okay, mother,” Vanimax added, skittering around her to place himself in her field of view at Kaln’s side. “He’s not doing anything to me! We were just, you know…playing.”
There was silence as her golden eyes stared at them, pupils narrowed to bare slits, unblinking. Very slowly, she lifted her head off the ground.
“Playing.” Kaln had never heard her speak in such a flat tone.
“You know, a little sparring,” he explained. “It’s good exercise.”
“It’s a good way to…um, work things out,” Vanimax added. “Have some fun, get the heartbeat up and get out of our own heads. You know? Kaln is…well, he’s an okay sort, I guess.”
Staring down at them, Izayaroa got back to her feet, folding her wings with great dignity. Slowly her head swiveled as she took in the surrounding landscape. Craters and rents marring the ground where they had impacted and slid, the wide swath of prairie grass that was still on fire.
Finally, she emitted a snort of pure exasperation and sat down hard enough to shake the earth again.
“Boys.”
“Psst.” Vanimax lowered his head to Kaln’s level, muttering in a tone that was still definitely within her hearing. “How do you think we should tell her we both learned this from Vadaralshi?”
“You tell her,” Kaln muttered back at the same volume. “I’m hoping to sleep with her again later.”
Izayaroa let out a long, heavy sigh, complete with a stream of hot smoke which was fortunately dispersed well above their heads.
“Vanimax,” she finally said, “you and I must speak. At length.”
Vanimax tensed, hunching behind his wings reflexively.
“And that is not a euphemism,” she added.
Izayaroa stepped forward, lowering her head toward him, and Vanimax instinctively drew back. She pushed on into his space, however, and rather than striking out as he seemed to fear, leaned in to press her forehead against his. After a surprised second, he relaxed, nuzzling back into her.
“This will be a conversation. There are things I require you to explain, but a great many more I must say to you. It will take considerable time. I also need to have a private word with Kaln…but as this should be a much shorter discussion, I ask that you go inside to my chambers and wait for me there. I wish to handle this part now, so that I can give you my undivided attention for what is likely to be the remainder of the day.”
“I…of course. Yes, mother.” Vanimax swiveled his head to look at Kaln, parted his jaws again as if to say something else, and then hesitated. Instead, he turned and paced a short distance away from them, spreading his wings and taking off as soon as he had clearance.
Izayaroa watched him go, swooping around toward the front entrance to the mountain lair, and then turned her head back to Kaln. For a long moment, she just stared down at him, reptilian expression inscrutable.
“Are…you all right?” Kaln asked carefully.
The dragon’s enormous chest swelled momentarily in another sigh, and she looked away from him. “I…have spent the night in uncomfortable contemplation, and come to conclusions which greatly trouble me. There are things I need to say to you, Ar-Kaln—difficult things. I ask that you allow me to get through it uninterrupted, before we converse again.”
“Of course,” Kaln said. “Whatever you need.”
He clung to his composed expression with every last fiber of strength he possessed, even as he felt his stomach drop right into the earth beneath him, leaving behind a sucking sensation that consumed his entire torso.
This was it. He knew what was coming. She was done with him, about to announce her departure. And he’d brought it on himself. What had possessed him to speak to her that way?
Izayaroa lowered herself again, settling with all four legs tucked beneath her body, but with her neck still arched, head still turned to gaze away at the horizon. Of course; dumping someone must be awkward enough without making eye contact.
“You have not asked,” she finally said after apparently composing herself for a long span of seconds, “but Vanimax has no rank in Rhivaak, nor will he. The nature of dragon parenting and human political succession is…incompatible. My Empire has no prince; in my capacity as Empress, I have no family. Since we are on the topic, Kaln, this applies to you as well. Thus, Vanimax is no part of Imperial business. Separately, in my life as a private individual watching over my Empire from a safe distance, I have a son with whom I have shared my days these last twelve decades.”
She paused again, and Kaln nodded. Waiting for her to go on. It wasn’t as if he had anything to say, even had she not asked him to let her get through it. His voice would probably have humiliatingly cracked; he would definitely have been able to conjure up nothing but incoherent pleas for her not to do what she was doing. Instead of subjecting them both to that, Kaln kept his fool mouth shut and waited for her to finish explaining how he’d just lost her.
“Obviously… Atraximos would never have tolerated me raising my offspring as his other consorts did—as successors to their own special interests. To groom an heir to expertise in politics and administration would require heavy involvement with mortals. His father would have found that idea offense in the extreme, and even apart from his bullheaded perfidy, there would be no way to do that without obviating any chance we might have of privacy. Realistically, I could not hope to conceal my identity for a century of interacting with mortals if I were training a young dragon to be able to rule over them competently and beneficently. And even if I proclaimed that my son was not to be the heir to Rhivaak, the mere knowledge of him would have created ongoing political complications the Empire does not need. So I have simply raised him as a dragon, to know and to do the things a dragon ought.”
She finally looked at Kaln again, turning her head back to fix her gaze upon him. He still couldn’t quite parse her expression, but didn’t really need to. He knew what this was all leading up to, even if he didn’t yet see how she was going to get there from here. Kaln was fully occupied keeping himself outwardly composed.
“I could, however, have done…more. Not to the extent of raising him as a proper heir, but…more. I am not blind to the fact that Tiavathyris and Emeralaphine have both brought up their daughters in ways to which Atraximos was blind. He was paranoid, but self-centered and never terribly interested in his offspring so long as they stayed out of his way. I…could have taught Vanimax more about…well, many things. It is not as if I taught him nothing, please don’t think that. We have had over a century and spoken on countless subjects. I’ve told him at great length about my interests and likes; he has listened attentively. And for long years, I thought that would be enough. That when he was ready to leave the lair, it would be as a proud dragon with a somewhat greater understanding of mortal hearts and minds than most, and free of his sire’s moral inadequacies.”
Once more, Izayaroa paused, turning to look away. Then she turned back, visibly forcing herself to face him. Kaln steeled himself. It was coming.
“It is only in the last few days, watching how poorly Vanimax has coped with the abrupt changes in our lives, that I have recognized what I should have seen developing long since. I haven’t taught him to love the things I love, but only to love me. Hence his reluctance to depart on his own—both he and Pheneraxa are old enough that Atraximos was beginning to make noises about evicting them. I…I have…”
Heaving another sigh, Izayaroa lowered her head—in fact, let it hang in a way Kaln had never seen, nose pointed at the ground. Her eyes closed as if she couldn’t stand to look at the world while she admitted what was on her heart.
“It is a more painful thing than you can imagine, husband, to realize that you have failed your child. Especially when they are an adult, and it is too late. Empathetic as you are, until you have your own children, I truly don’t believe you can actually understand how that aches, how it burns. The one, ultimate responsibility I had to my son, to prepare him to be his own person and face the world without me… I let him down. I cultivated his utmost love and trust in me and then betrayed them.”
She opened her eyes again, resolute, meeting his gaze. Now she lowered her head properly, facing him from closer to the ground. At his own level.
“Terrible as that offense was…it can be defended. It was not deliberate; the choices I made seemed sensible at the time, their consequences only revealed in hindsight. I…do not have the luxury of that defense for any of what followed. As I drew closer to recognizing my ultimate failure, instead of facing it as an Empress ought, I pushed it away, hid my mind from it. And worst of all… When you brought it forth for me to confront, Kaln, I…I lashed out at you like a beast. What you told me was exactly what I most needed to hear. More than that, you spoke with such compassion and concern for me, when in that moment you’d have been fully justified in holding my head to the floor until I listened, as you did Tiavathyris. And…that is how I repaid you.”
Once more, Izayaroa flattened herself fully to the ground, prostrating herself before him. Kaln stared at her, feeling as if he were in free fall. What…was happening? Was she not going to…?
Her golden eyes closed and she spoke so softly that even the immense power of her voice did not overcome its quiet aspect.
“Never since the earliest days of my youth have I failed so utterly, or shamed myself so deeply. I vow to you, husband, that whatever it requires, I will make this right. In such a short time, I have learned to appreciate you—the incredibly good fortune that has brought you to me. Not only because of the opportunities you present as a godling, perhaps not even most because of that. But because of the person you are. What you are trying, and already beginning to succeed at doing for me, for us, for this family. I promise, husband, henceforth I shall appreciate it better. I humbly beg your forgiveness.”
All he could do was stare.
She wasn’t abandoning him? It…almost didn’t make sense. Could you actually provoke a loved one like that and they not retaliate? Speaking up as he had at all had been a risky impulse, a strange act for him no doubt prompted by all the recent sweeping changes in his life. It had been so contrary to everything Kaln understood—his well-practiced certainty that being right was the opposite of an asset in arguing with a romantic partner. She was apologizing?
He could see her point, see why she was in the wrong. That didn’t make it less…surreal. Kaln was suspended, hanging between relief so palpable he tingled with it all the way to his fingertips and…utter confusion.
Then Izayaroa opened her eyes, and he realized he’d been standing there like an obelisk, letting her welter in it. Unforgivable.
“I…” Yep, his voice cracked. Kaln had to pause and clear his throat. “It seems like I keep having to say this recently, but…I’m in no position to judge you. As a ruler, or a dragon, or even as a parent—it’s not like I know anything about any of that, you’re right. All I know how to be is a person, and when a person makes a mistake, their character can only be judged by how they make amends.”
Stepping forward, he reached out to lay a hand against the glossy scales of her muzzle, resisting the impulse to lean against her. His own legs felt weak. He was having to reassure her, to perform without having had the time to process the relief that he had not just lost her, and it turned out that unprocessed relief could leave a fellow unsteady. But he performed anyway, because that was what he did.
“I have never mistaken you for perfect,” Kaln said gently, “so you haven’t disappointed me. My faith in you is undiminished. I have the utmost confidence that you will be able to overcome whatever problems result from all this. And it may not be a smooth journey, but that’s fine. I’ll be here to support you, whenever you stumble and whenever you don’t. I promise I won’t think less of you if you don’t get everything exactly right the first time.”
Her huge form swelled again as she inhaled; he could actually feel the breeze pressing at his back from the force of the air she was drawing in. And then, finally, she shifted. There she was, standing a head taller than he rather than towering like a living palace, and she wrapped her claws around him, pulling him into a hug.
Finally Kaln let himself lean against her, let himself catch his own breath.
They were silent for several minutes, only hold each other, appreciating being together. Gently she stroked his back, from head to waist, with one claw, but otherwise they didn’t move.
“I am grateful, Kaln,” Izayaroa finally said, softly. “Out of all the people who might have stepped into your role, unprecedented as it was… I am so glad it was you.” She leaned down to press her forehead against his, and Kaln nuzzled her back in the dragon manner. Then he shifted slightly to kiss her, and she adjusted her grip on him, reciprocating with gentle fervor. Only then, finally, did she lighten her grasp and begin to pull back.
Kaln felt a twinge at letting her go, but did so without complaint. He could, now that he knew it wouldn’t be the last time.
“And now I must go spend some considerable time and attention on my son,” she said, smiling. “I’ll look forward to having more with you, husband, but I believe at least part of Vanimax’s dismay stems from being suddenly ignored while I direct all my focus at a new person in our lives.”
“I think you’re right. It’s probably best if you make sure not to deny him too much of your time, going forward.”
“That works out well, as you have other consorts to appease. I don’t believe either of them have yet begun to resent the proportion of your own attention I have taken up these last few days, but I suspect it would take very little carrying on as we have been before that begins to accrue. Best to ward off family disputes rather than have to resolve them after the fact.”
“Words to live by,” he agreed fervently.
Izayaroa hesitated a moment, then reached out. Gently sliding one claw around behind his head again, she pulled him forward and bent to rub her nose alongside his, once.
“Beloved,” she whispered.
And then she had pulled away, and stepped back. Kaln also retreated two paces as she changed back. With a beat of her immense wings that cast a gale across the plateau, Izayaroa threw herself aloft, and arced away around the mountain.
Left behind, Kaln held out only until he was certain he was alone again, then let out a ragged breath and sat down right where he stood.
He managed not to flop into a complete fetal position, catching himself on his arms as he leaned back and tilted his neck to stare up at the clear morning sky. At least the ground in this particular spot wasn’t wet. Last night’s rain still soaked the area, but in this little patch, sections had been baked dry by nearby dragonfire.
Kaln breathed in and out, slowly regaining his equanimity. He had been so certain in that moment it was all about to end. Right now he couldn’t even put names to all the emotions whirling around him, so he just sat there, giving them time to settle down.
“I thought you handled it very well. I’m sure you don’t nee me to tell you this, but that is your great gift, y’know. You’re good at handling people. Even when you don’t have the wherewithal to fix your own angst, you’ve always got the energy to make someone else feel better. Just be sure to remember moderation. Those dragons’ll walk all over you without meaning any harm if you don’t stick up for your own needs.”
Kaln heaved an exasperated sigh, closing his own eyes for a moment. When he opened them again and looked off to the side, there it was. His own shadow, stretching away across the ground until the point where it didn’t, instead lifting off it to hover as an indistinct dark blur in the air.
“I really don’t have the energy for you right now,” he said. “Which is why you’re here, isn’t it? You’re really good at picking vulnerable moments to exploit.”
“What’s interesting to me is how much of a difference your own mindset makes in how you interpret that. You being in prison on death row was certainly a vulnerable moment, and I sure don’t recall you complaining about my help then. You’re not wrong, Kaln, I deal pretty much exclusively with desperate people in unfortunate situations. Who else needs the kind of intervention they’d get from me?”
“Let’s just abridge this conversation, shall we?” Kaln sighed. “You want me to turn my focus back to Rhivkabat, to Haktria and the Lord Scribe. I ask why you’re so adamant about that, you say something evasive. Good talk, looking forward to next time.”
“Hey, can’t a being drop by and visit old friends and business partners from time to time? What I’m seeing here is you having just finished what should have been a wholesome and affirming moment with your spouse and reacted the second she was gone as if you’d had your stuffing ripped out. Look at yourself, Kaln. This is not healthy. It’s not even normal. You are going to run yourself absolutely ragged unless you open up to this family you’re working so hard to cultivate. Doesn’t matter how silver-tongued or socially adroit a person is, one man cannot manage this many extremely large personalities to their own benefit all on his own. You have got to start letting them take care of you in turn. I think you’d find yourself surprised how willing they are to do so.”
“Uh huh,” Kaln said sourly. “And being dragons, part of that ‘taking care’ will involve haring off to Rhivkabat to enact revenge on those who’ve wronged me, which of course is the only part you care about.”
“That is one thing that’s likely to happen, yes, although if we’re being realistic, Izayaroa is the only one with a claim there and won’t tolerate the others messing about on her turf. But that is only one of the things that will likely happen, Kaln, and from where you’re sitting right now, one of the less important. My guy, by every meaningful measure you’ve won. The power and wealth and security at your fingertips now is positively unreal. And yet, here you are, driven to literal collapse by the ongoing emotional issues you keep refusing to address. How much longer do you think you can keep on this way?”
“I’ll tell you what.” Kaln shuffled about without getting up, turning himself to face the floating shadow more directly. “You refuse to tell me why my revenge is so important to you? Fine. You say you can’t tell me? Fine, fine. That’s not necessarily implausible. There are countless reasons anyone might need to keep details like that discreet, and I have no idea what kind of rules apply to…whatever kind of a thing it is you are.”
It was a god, he was all but certain. Probably a lesser one, but definitely a god of revenge.
“But can you tell me why you can’t tell me? If you’re not going to just leave me alone…if we follow this enough layers down, surely there’s eventually some reason you can provide that I should at least consider trusting you. Because right now, I’m coming up short.”
“I guess being the entire reason you are in the wonderful position you’re in instead of murdered in a jail cell isn’t reason enough? Those are some pretty lofty standards, Kaln, I don’t think anything can surpass that.”
“It’s not that I don’t value all of that, it’s the absolute certainty you’ve created that all of it was a side effect of your plan toward some goal I don’t even know, because you refuse to tell me. So my question stands. What can you tell me?”
“Well,” the Entity mused, slowly wavering back and forth in the air, “I guess it’s not unreasonable to—”
It happened to fast that Kaln’s specialized senses provided no warning. Even as he felt the rise of powerful dragon-cast magic around them, the world seemed to tilt. The senses for which he had names told him nothing was different in their surroundings, but it felt as if gravity had reversed, or the air had turned to moonlight—something fundamental yet ineffable altered just in the space around him.
The only visible cue to the effect was around the Entity, which was suddenly snapped loose from Kaln. While his shadow whipped back into place at his feet, the dark form of the enigmatic being was left floating in the air—and suddenly different than he had ever seen it. There was a form to it now, a shape he could recognize. It remained translucent, but had a crisp outline, resembling a transparent person-shaped shell full of smoke.
By the time he’d noticed this, Kaln had also sharpened his focus upon the magic. Feeling it cast by a dragon, he could discern much about its nature, but within limits prescribed by his own starkly limited understanding of magic itself. Exactly what this working was doing he’d have needed a more thorough education to articulate, but he could discern the general sense of it. In this one spot, the rules were changed, limiting the capabilities of metaphysical entities within its area of effect.
And focusing thus, he sensed it coming when she teleported. The magic swelled, and suddenly she was towering over them both, her white scales practically glowing in the sunlight as she bent her neck to grin directly at the Entity.
“Finally,” Emeralaphine said smugly. “Got you.”
Comments
jthrr
This is a great chapter & as usual going in very interesting, unexpected yet real-for-the-characters directions. There's a missing beat or something in the middle I hit, that can be an easy fix — right before this: > He clung to his composed expression with every last fiber of strength he possessed, even as he felt his stomach drop right into the earth beneath him Kaln was just joking in her hearing about sleeping with her later; there needs to be a moment where he... maybe just notices she utterly fails to smirk at the joke? Or he should be already anxious about her mindset and not joking around after she lands and prostates herself (maybe that'd be better). Hope this is useful; I hesitate to give actual writing feedback but this seems like just an "extra eyes" service + quick fix.
Max Thomas
Hmm, wonder how much Emeralaphine heard of their conversation, or if the Entity will spill the beans on what's going on with Kaln.
