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Avila

Nighttime in the temporary dragon settlement was not different as a night in Xici Kingdom, thanks to a magical shield engulfing the whole settlement like a dome. Qeveriyt may not look grand like Dracokin was, but its cozy atmosphere, along with the liveliness of the young dragons living in it, made it uncharacteristically warm.

A draconic settlement that had started to develop lately, Qeveriyt was once a settlement built by the dragons and their riders after Dracokin was lost during a skirmish by the Anti-dragons that ended with the plundering of the thousand years old settlement, most of its history lost or buried under the desert sands. The dragons, especially those living longer than the others, helped the scholars and historians to reproduce the scriptures and writings. By now, at least 15 percent of the original library content was completed. Even then, it wasn't enough.

While there were strong opinions to return the favor to the Anti-dragons by fighting them directly in another War, the elder dragons, those who were the first members of the Order, refused to lose more members, especially younger members who were the frontline of their army. With the capture of Seraphor, one of their most powerful members and one of the heroes in the Fight for Pol Hain, morale was slightly decreased. It was only for a moment, though, for Avila, a member of darkness harnessing dragon race, the Argoon, had showed them the true power of a death angel. Her rage tore through the battlefield, awakening primal fear to the dragon slayers who dared to face her with inferior dragon slaying weapons. In front of her, they were nothing but insects, and their weapons had no effect on her. Even if they had captured Seraphor, the fight ended with a win for the Order and Xici Kingdom.

Even then, it had been a week since Seraphor's disappearance, and Avila had started to become impatient, just like many member of the Order. A week was enough for her to wait for any information. She was told to wait by the Order, knowing that her ability would ensure their victory. Avila wanted to help them, but being a death dragon, she didn't want to abuse her abilities. Who knows what her abilities could do to allies and foes alike.

Her main annoyance, however, was not Seraphor. It was the presence of her old nemesis, Xiciro. The old Argoon dragon had started to try to initiate a conversation with Avila. While Avila had mostly forgiven him for killing Bartoz (when it was revealed that Bart was still alive), she could not forgive him for his past association with the Defilers, a group of dragons that followed the anti-dragons and led by five diabolical dragons. One of them happened to still be alive and wandered around Qeveriyt like nothing happened to him. No one actually knew which the fifth Defiler was since the dragon trapped Avila and Shariot, a sapphire-scaled dragon and Raithorakh's mate, were the only ones that fought him. Avila could use a powerful dark ability to call forth a portal to the dark dimension, one where she trapped Xiciro after melting the flesh out of his right hind leg. There was a miscalculation on her part, however, as he was an Awakened Argoon dragon, an Argoon dragon that had fully mastered the art of darkness. His only reason of his inability to immediately return was because of repentance, something that Avila did not trust.

Even then, Avila could not help to realize that she had a begrudging respect on Xiciro due to his role as one of the healers along with Yort, who he had been acquainted 10 years before her return. Not only that, he helped her fight and was also the one who stopped Avila to be overtaken with anger that could devastate both sides. Still, she still resented him for his arrogance and his apparent insensitivity to the plight of the humans.

While she was talking in the warm, bright night of Qeveriyt, she encountered Xiciro, who looked at her, too. They both stared at each other before Avila said, "What do you want, Xiciro?"

"I am merely passing, Avila. Now, if you excuse me..."

Avila, confused as to what Xiciro was doing, walked away without giving another comment. She was still suspicious on his actions, but lately, her suspicion became confusion as to why Xiciro was trying to avoid her. The older Argoon once looked away when she wanted to talk to him. While Avila did not feel like talking to him, she wanted to start a conversation, yet he avoided her so many times for the past week.

Xiciro, however, had a different kind of thought. Every time he saw Avila, he saw his wife, also called Avila, in her, and his guilt. His pursue of knowledge changed Avila into a hybrid dragon with four darkness abilities, something that he realized was a curse. With his memories returned, he felt guilt for the first time in two hundred years, and knowing that Avila was his daughter did not make it better; it became worse, especially because he was trying to kill her for the wrong ones. Xiciro wasn't always a vile and morally-ambiguous dragon with little regard on human life. In fact, before everything that happened to him, he was a caring and kind-hearted dragon that was a clear opposite to his wife's brash personality. If it wasn't for their fight for territory that ended up with him giving up on her, they would not mate, and there would not be Avila.

His line of thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Yort, an old earth dragon healer that lived far beyond what Xiciro presumed to be a dragon's lifespan, despite of a myth that dragons could live forever. He wanted to find a way to examine Yort scientifically, but doing that would mean losing the only friend he could trust.

"Xiciro," said Yort. "What a coincidence! I want you to help me on this one."

The Argoon dragon nodded and followed him. His friendship with Yort came mainly because of their mutual pursue of knowledge. Despite of the difference in their personalities, Yort did not care. He somehow had an experience with similarly arrogant dragon like Xiciro did during his lifetime. Not that Xiciro cared, though.

They walked outside the town, to which Xiciro felt like something was wrong. Yort then opened his wings, a pair of ragged, partially torn, ten millennia old leather and lifted off. Xiciro did the same, but his wings were not as old as Yort; it was still majestic, like a dragon in its prime.

Their short travel wasn't filled with conversation like they usually had, which troubled Xiciro. Despite of being friends with Yort, he had tried to be suspicious and not to trust dragons, knowing the fact that two members of the Order knew his past. Ironically, her daughter could potentially be the one who would tell the members, without ever knowing that he was her father.

They reached Dracokin's ruins. In the middle of the night, with no source of light, the ruins of the once magnificent dragon city became a bleak and desolate place. The moonlight reflected upon the bones of the dead, reminding both of them, especially Yort, the failure to defend the city. Xiciro felt sympathy when he looked towards the ruins, despite of his ignorance. After a while, Yort walked towards the only place with light source: Xiciro's home.

Inside, Xiciro wanted to turn on the light, but Yort stopped him and said, "She's sleeping." The Argoon dragon knew what he meant. Moonlight shone upon the ruins, and he could see the sleeping immortal wyvern, occasionally growling and smiling. Yort had helped Xiciro with her car, knowing that in her depressed state, she could not sustain herself. Xiciro feigned arrogance when offered to live in Qeveriyt, but Yort knew his secret and he started to open up. The recent discovery and the return of his memories changed his personality a bit, too.

After they walked out of the shelter, Yort used his earth power to start rapidly growing a nocturnal tree. He said, "Give her the fruit from this tree. It will calm her."

"I never knew you can grow plants."

"Despite of my age, I admit, I've never been able to grow plants. Terra helped me with it, saying that I've never tapped into the nature's aspect of my elemental magic. It helped me greatly, especially with the seeds from the East."

"Terra? You mean the stranger from another world?"

"Even if he's a stranger, Terrador and the rest of the dragons from the unknown place helped return Seraphor for us. But now...he's gone, alongside Bartoz."

Yort then looked towards Legna. "Even after such a long time, I've never seen her before in my life. I...feared that she would not remember Angelus in her current state."

"She'll be fine, my dear friend."

"Your self-assurance is greatly appreciated," said Yort with a smile. "But I don't take you here for a simple chat."

Xiciro's face became serious. He thought Yort realized who he was. He had started to form a dark claw just in case. It was dark, but he knew no one could know, or he would be killed. He exhaled silently in relief when Yort started to talk.

"I...want to thank you for your help in defending that human kingdom. I know you are a neutral party who just wanted to help, but seeing how you fight and your knowledge on Avila's abilities...I can't help to wonder if you are not a warrior yourself."

"You are exaggerating, Yort. I'm simply a dragon who wanted to know beyond the nature of things, beyond magic. I want to believe that between this realm and the magic realm, there is always something in between. I want to explain things, and that is the pursuit of knowledge. I became a healer to help you and pursue my goal."

"Yes...you remind me of an Argoon dragon I knew back when I was young. Argoon dragons were considered eccentric just because they came from the South, but you don't seem to know, do you? I think you are descended from the ones who temporarily lived in the West, before moving back to the South. Ah, but it's time to stop reminiscing. It's a bittersweet end to a happy relationship."

Xiciro wanted to know which Argoon dragon he was talking about, without realizing that Yort himself knew his race. Yort looked towards the sky and said, "But...well, the past is the past. I want to talk about you, Xiciro, and especially Avila."

The Argoon dragon knew Yort was the only dragon who was closest to him, and only one who readily accept anything, except of him being a former Defiler. It was what Yort said to him that surprised him the most.

"Avila...is your daughter, isn't it?"

"I wonder how you can tell. Is it because of our race?"

"Anyone can say that you two have the same race and you two are father and daughter, but no...I can see your hesitation around her. It's a secret you cannot tell her, because it can devastate her or worse, making you her nemesis. I can see her hostility towards you is because of a prior engagement, which is something that I don't want to pry upon."

Xiciro looked towards him, then towards the ruins. He wanted to say something that would actually made his past known, and Yort would not like that. No, he would not even accept it.

"You'll know it if you live for ten millennia like me. I know what it's like to not be able to tell a young dragon that you are their parent. For me, that's a regret I will bear for the rest of my life."

"What is it like...to not be able to tell?"

"Hmm...you know how it is. Unlike me, however, you still have a chance. This is dark times, Xiciro. I know your race is known to be dangerously strong, but I must warn you. Even the most dangerous of dragons can die because of a slight mistake, and we don't want that, do we? You two are the last known Argoon dragons in the West, not to mention you are related. Let her know soon, when you are still given a chance."

The Argoon the saw Yort's expression when his face was illuminated by the torch. It was of sadness. All of the sudden Xiciro felt the same thing. He knew the pain of losing a loved one. Even then, there was still a doubt in his heart. They had both tried to kill each other, and that shattered the trust he did not even know. Avila may had respected him, but it was still not yet a trust. He needed to prove that he no longer had any intention to kill her.

Yort's sadness was also painted on his body. Years of living had made his body ancient. Scars had closed in the form of plates, and his face was full of ancient scars from years of fighting. Memories were engraved on his body like wood carvings. They told those who saw him the experience, the joy, the anger, and the loss of living for such a long time. Even Xiciro could not match his wisdom and knowledge on things.

Despite of this, however, the dragon had lived too long and knew too much painful memories. He merely wanted Xiciro to be happy before it was too late. Xiciro knew his intention and regretted having a thought to kill him. He never felt such feelings before. Years of blaming himself for his wife, his curse, and his allegiance to the Defilers finally made him snapped. He did not want to disappoint anymore.

Whatever chance he could get to return to his daughter, he would take it. Even if it was only a small fraction of trust, he needed it to return to his family. This also made him convinced that to gain her trust, he must make her happy.

It was at that night, that Xiciro finally had a goal. He wanted to save Seraphor, the only one Avila would be happy with.