FSE

Furry search engine

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*****

Chapter Eighty

*****

For an instant that spanned eternity, Revaramek traveled through the infinite spiral of stars. Wreathed in heat and cold, he pierced the endless void between worlds. The once-familiar smell of burning vellum smothered him. Every memory of his life whirled in his brain all at once. He saw his mother, smiling in the swamp, and breathing her last in the marsh, listening to his final tale. He saw Enora strumming her lute, the gryphons warbling, and Mirelle jumping on his chest to save his life. Nyramyn laughed and danced in the rain, and Korakos bound across the muddy bank. For a flickering second, he saw the other lives he had lived, and he saw them end. He saw Asterbury and Vakaal, one in the swamp and one in the sand.

As quickly as they came, the maelstrom of memories shattered and faded back into the recesses of the dragon's subconscious, fragmented and scrambled. In their place came flashes of a brilliant sky, a vibrant green world stretching on forever, and an endless supply of clean, pure water. The indigo sky cracked and fell all around him, and Revaramek tumbled across cool, mossy stone.

Revaramek gasped, wheezed, and broke into a fit of hacking coughs. He writhed on the stone, in the darkness, coughing till his ribs ached and his stomach churned. There was something wrong with the air. When the worst of his lungs' spasm eased, he fought for breath. Little by little, his jumbled memories struggled to piece themselves back together. His head spun and his vision spun with it. When he remembered how he came to be here, he feared he sent himself to the wrong world. Had he accidentally cast himself somewhere un-survivable for dragons?

The dragon lifted his head, sucking a deep breath even as his body rejected it. The air was too thin, as though he could not get enough to fill his lungs. It tasted and smelled strange, not thick enough. Through bleary eyes, he saw stone walls around him. Behind him stood the familiar black and silver circles of the gateway. In the distance, brilliant light smothered the exit, so white-hot bright it burned his eyes. He hissed and looked away, squeezing them shut.

For a few minutes Revaramek simply lay on the stone, trying to collect himself. Gradually, his lungs grew a little more accepting of the air. His vision stabilized, the room stopped spinning. He squinted, peering into the harsh light for a few moments. Silhouetted trees and walls stood beyond the exit. He...he remembered this place. He came here, years ago, with Jekk, Asterbury and Aylaryl. He was back in the marsh.

Why was it so hard to breathe? So hard to see?

It took Revaramek a few moments to realize how simple the answer was. His body had grown accustomed to the swamp, to the toxic clouds, to the thick, poisoned air, and the undrinkable water, and to the dim light. Here, back in the marsh, the air was so pure it overwhelmed his unprepared lungs, the light so bright it burned his eyes, long adjusted to darkness. Revaramek pushed himself up on unsteady paws. He took a few wobbly steps towards the exit, hoping that when Nyramyn and Korakos joined him here the transition would not be too harsh for them.

Their names brought a realization that came as a spear of ice, driven into the dragon's heart. Revaramek collapsed right back down with an anguished howl. They weren't joining him. They didn't know where he was. They were going to think he was dead. What would happen to Nyramyn's joy? What would happen to his son? Could Korakos truly save them both with his spark? What if...what if...Revaramek curled up, clutching his head in his paws. Before he could stop himself, the dragon was sobbing.

His family.

His poor, lonely family.

He left them behind.

For a few minutes, Revaramek cried, gasping and sobbing big gulps of clean air. Tears soaked his green scales, but at least the crying gave his body time to adjust. When his tears eased, the dragon grit his jaws, and pushed himself to his feet. He shook his head, and took a few deep, trembling breaths. He couldn't just stay here, feeling sorry for himself. There would be plenty of time to curl up and sob for the hardship his family faced later. For now, he...he...would did he have to do?

Mirelle.

Her memory eased a fraction of the cold weight pressing against his heart. He should find Mirelle. Though he had no way of knowing what befell the village after he left, he remained certain she would have been victorious. The story chose her for a reason. Which meant that surely the village he helped save would still be there, and Mirelle would be there, too. Maybe even Enora and the gryphons.

Yes, he thought, he'd go to the village. A task would help distract him.

Revaramek glanced around. The place was tidier than he remembered. All the rotting shelves and moldering books were gone. Squinting, he staggered towards the exit of the gate chamber. The closer he drew, the more blinding the light became. It was as if the sun had grown a hundred times brighter in his absence. Just peering outside left the dragon's eyes throbbing. He flicked his flight membranes closed to try and offer himself a little protection, and while it cut the glare, it only eased the sting a little.

As he reached the exit, he shaded his eyes with a paw, and gazed around. He remembered stony debris here where the place was caving in, but saw nothing of the sort. The broken walls around the exit were now restored with fresh bricks and stones. Revaramek settled on his haunches in the shadow of the domed chamber, looking around while he gave his eyes time to adjust.

The hill that sloped down towards the marsh had been cleared, and a fresh flagstone path set in the ground. The path led towards the water, where a small plaza now stood. There were wooden benches there, around a stone tablet. The top of the tablet was carved with a detailed relief, and a big sign was staked into the ground beyond it. Large trees shaded it.

An unfamiliar wooden boardwalk continued the pathway beyond the hill, and spanned some of the deeper sections of water. It looked as if it was cobbled together from pieces of the makeshift platform Asterbury carried them out here on. The new path wound through old stone walls wreathed in vine and continued on into the marsh.

"What the hell?"

Revaramek padded down the hill, trying to ignore the way the light stung his eyes. At the bottom of the hill, he inspected the sign at the back of the small plaza. It was written in several languages, but the only one he could read without much trouble was the marsh's common tongue. Even that took him a few moments to put the words together in his mind. It had been a long time since he'd spoken anything but the tongue of the swamp dragons, and longer still since he read anything.

Welcome, weary travelers.

Refuge awaits you all.

"That has to be Mirelle's doing." Revaramek glanced back at the gateway building. Jekk would have had it destroyed, he was sure. Mirelle must have had other plans. The dragon smiled, gazing at the sign again. Trust Mirelle to turn a device of conquest into a place of sanctuary.

The dragon turned his attention to the large stone tablet in the center of the plaza. He soon realized it was map of the marsh, carved in detail enough to help any travelers who came through that gate find their way to a friendly village. Revaramek still recognized most of the landmarks depicted on the marsh. He traced a single finger across it, then smiled and tapped the telltale hill Mirelle's people called home. It had a name, now.

Refuge.

"So they finally named it. Fitting."

The other villages had names now, too. He recognized the locations of a few of them, like the place he fought Aylaryl in the streets. They'd named it Determination. There were other places called Hope, Sanctuary, and so on. The map was quite extensive, stretching far enough to include Enora's homestead in the hills, and beyond. Villages he did not recognize it dotted it further away. Urd'thin settlements marked some parts of the southeastern marsh, while Va'chaak tribal lands were marked elsewhere. Far, far to the western edge, an arrow indicated the name of the realm beyond.

Gorpalorp.

Revaramek laughed and shook his head, unsure if it was some inside joke Mirelle had scribed into the stone, or if Asterbury's change had made it a real place in people's minds. He supposed it didn't matter. Just as he was about to turn away from the map, he spotted a scrawl of text across the bottom of the map.

In memorial of Revaramek the Resplendent, Hero of the Marsh.

Alongside it was a small carving of a smiling dragon, sitting amidst piles of books.

Tear brimmed in Revaramek's eyes as he ran his pads across the text, and the image. It was all he could do to swallow back another sudden sob. If he gave into tears again, he wasn't sure he'd have the strength left to fly. The dragon sniffled and licked his muzzle, his ears drooping.

"You kept your promise, Mirelle." He took a shaking breath, swallowing at the lump in his throat again. "Thank you."

Revaramek eased away from the map and memorial, fearing if he did not take to the air now, he might spend the whole day sobbing just outside the gate building. He took a deep breath, tensed himself up, and sprang off his hind legs. At the same time, he beat his wings as hard as he could, forcing himself up into the air.

The dragon shot aloft so swiftly it startled him into a loud squeal. "AAAAAH!"

His stomach lurched as the world dropped away in a sickening spiral. He hurtled towards the sky faster than he could ever remember flying, so fast he almost feared he'd lost control of his flight. He flicked his wings and twisted in the air, then soon leveled out, panting. Revaramek streaked through the air so fast it left his heart thundering. He'd never flown so swift before. Vast stretches of green cypress and their tangled knots of gray-brown roots flashed past in an incredible blur amidst the beautiful water.

It took Revaramek a few minutes of flight to realize that just like his senses, his wings, his flight muscles, and the rest of his body were completely adjusted to flying in the poisoned swamp. The air there was thicker, and heavier, he had to fight through it just to fly. Now that he was back in the marsh, he was going to have to get used to flying with smaller, easier motions again.

At least when Nyramyn finally arrived, he might be able to outfly her for a day or two. He grit his teeth, telling himself she would_arrive. That was one thing he was sure Asterbury wouldn't lie about, if only because Vakaal wouldn't let him. And gods, how beautiful she'd look here, in the bright golden sun. _How fast would she fly once her body attuned itself to this place?

For now, Revaramek would content himself with dreams.

As the dragon flew on, he was stunned by just how green everything was. He remembered the marsh as a beautiful, vibrant place, but if anything, his years away amplified its verdant nature a thousand-fold. Cypress trees, willows and oaks, pines and firs, swamp rose and ivy vines, grass and brush, everywhere he looked there was more greenery. And best of all, none of it was trying to kill him.

Far above, the sky stretched endless and azure, a sharper, clearer blue than any he could recall. Here and there, clouds marked it with shapeless twists and drifting coils. Revaramek marveled at how white they were. How long had it been since he'd seen truly white clouds? As long as it had been since he'd seen a sky so blue, a sun so bright, or water so pure.

The dragon gazed down at the marsh he soared over. So much pure water. He could land anywhere he wanted, bathe in it, swim in it, drink it down and never suffer an ill effect. Though he'd never taken the marsh for granted, because of the memories of his hatchling days, Revaramek still could not help but feel as if only now did he truly understand just how precious this place was.

If only he could share it with his family.

"One day..."

For now, he flew northwest. Though he was far from the landmarks he used to know, he did not have to worry about getting lost here. He knew where the sun rose and where it set, and without a shroud of toxic clouds to hide it away, he had no trouble using it to navigate.

After several hours of flight, hunger set in. It gnawed his belly, gentle at first but soon ravenous. Revaramek planned to reach the village in a single flight, but in truth he was not sure how long it would take. Years ago, they flew out here atop that strange platform Asterbury built, and it moved at speeds a dragon could not reach. Revaramek decided to pause long enough to hunt himself something to eat.

It did not take him long to find food. Out on a dry swath of land, beyond the trails and boardwalks that now stretched further into the marsh than ever before, he spotted a large, fenced-in enclosure, a pasture spread atop a grassy hill. A few wooden outbuildings and a red painted barn stood at the top of the hill, and dozens of small, furry animals with little horns roamed the grassy expanse. He saw no sign of herders or anyone to stop him from helping himself to their sheep, so he tucked his wings in and descended towards them.

As he drew near the hill, he realized they were not sheep at all. They were goats.

_Pygmy_goats.

Revaramek rumbled brassy, incredulous laughter. At least he knew he was in the right story. He dropped onto the hill, and snatched a few of them up. They were just as succulent and tasty as he recalled. To his surprise, it took only a few of them to leave him feeling stuffed to capacity. His stomach must have atrophied a little after all the smaller meals in the swamp.

Once sated, Revaramek ascended again, half-expecting some gnarled old bastard to come out and threaten his bits with a pitchfork. Part of him was disappointed when no such person emerged. Whoever owned the goats, he'd have to do something to pay them back for their losses later. He turned northwest, and flew on.

In time, the more heavily forested sections of marsh gave way to stretches of open water divided by rolling hills and swaths of farmland. Expansive rice paddies occupied more of the lower areas than he could ever recall. Lines of elevated boardwalk spanned large sections of water. Sturdy bridges crossed streams and rivers, connecting sections of earthen roads. Low lying areas were paved with flagstones. Farmhouses dotted the landscape, with lands separated by snaking, stone brick walls. A few inns stood around crossroads in the distance. Revaramek did not remember any of that being so far outside the village in this direction. They must have been expanding.

When at last the hill's silhouette came into view on the horizon, it was clear the village had grown and changed immensely. By then the sun was sinking behind him, casting fiery reds and vibrant pinks across the clouds that edged the sky. As he closed in on the village, it's outline was both familiar and alien. The hill itself was now capped with two large structures, one on either side of the summit with a third, smaller edifice between them. The palisade that once encircled the town was gone, replaced with a wall built from stone that lay far outside the town's previous borders. In some sections, the wall was clearly still under construction, with only skeletal framework amidst a network of wooden scaffolding. Houses, shops, inns, taverns and more stretched away from the hill in all directions, along with a web of roads and lanes, and little bridges over ditches and wet areas.

As he flew closer to the town, he turned his attention towards where Mirelle's tavern once stood. When last he saw it, the place was in shambles thanks to Asterbury. Now something new stood in place of The Cathedral. It resembled the original building, with an angled roof, decorative arched buttresses, and ornamental spikes topping the battlements that edged every inch of the place. It had two bell towers now, and on each corner, a different sculpture of a dragon or a gryphon. The place was over twice the size of the previous Cathedral.

"You're upgraded, Mirelle!"

As he flew over the town's outskirts, he heard shouts and cries from below. He banked away, half expecting a volley of arrows to follow. As he spun through the air, Revaramek swiveled his ears, listening. He was too high to pick out actual words, but he heard no anger in those shouts, no fear. If anything, people sounded happy, excited. He circled once, glancing down at cobbled streets painted gold by the setting sun. People did not run, or hide. Instead they pointed up, waving to each other. For a moment, he half thought they recognized him. Soon he realized they were probably just excited to see a dragon. That left him his heart soaring higher than even recognition would have lifted it, because it meant he must have done something wonderful here.

At the same time, a strange sort of nervousness settled in his belly, something cold and tight and unfamiliar. It had been a long time since he'd feared humans, since the days of his youth when they beat him into submission. But just the same, it had been years now since he'd seen any humans, let alone hundreds of them. Or thousands.

So many people.

In the distance, shouts grew louder, and a bell rang. Even the bell sounded welcoming, brassy and cheerful. It helped him overcome his initial fear. Gryphons gave loud, keening cries from somewhere in the city. Perhaps they had a protocol to send Chir'raal and Kurekka to greet any winged creature, in case they posed a threat. Excitement surged through his blood, twisting his belly. Suddenly he missed his old friends very much. Seeing them would help put his mind at ease. He turned his gaze to the sound, and saw two gryphons rocketing into the sky meet him. He couldn't wait to see the looks on their smug beaks when they saw their Benevolent Overlord had returned.

His stomach dropped into his hind paws when he realized they were _not_Kurekka, or Chir'raal. Both were female, and totally unfamiliar to him. The first into the sky was layered in shades of gray across her body, with her wings the darkest. Just behind her came the second gryphon, with a dark blue body, a sky-blue face, and white wing tips. Both gryphons had something akin to a vest wrapped around the front half of their bodies, black with bright red and dark blue. Revaramek still recognized them as the town's colors. Each also bore a rider, small and furry.

"Mirelle has...gryphon-riding urd'thin now?" Oh, Gods, he _had_missed a lot.

As the two gryphons swept towards him, Revaramek realized their claws were out. He realized just as quickly the urd'thin on their back were each in armor, black leather lined with metal studs that caught the last of the sunlight. They also had bows with arrows nocked in case the newly arrived dragon proved a threat. For at least a little while, his nervousness was forgotten in the face of such cute little warriors. Before he could stop himself, Revaramek called out to them.

"Look at you, and your tiny little bows and arrows! You're so adorable!"

The riders both looked at each other, but both gryphons kept their eyes on the dragon. Soon, they were circling around him. The gray gryphon waved her forepaw as she passed in front him. When she called out, her voice was friendly, but firm. "Greetings, Dragon! Welcome to Refuge! Please, find a suitable landing spot and allow us to escort you!"

Despite it all, Revaramek found himself laughing. "Mirelle's just thought of everything, hasn't she? I knew I put her in charge for a reason." Ignoring the gryphon's confused glances, Revaramek looked around for a landing spot. He saw no sense in arguing or defying their expected protocols. Not too far away, he spotted a central plaza that looked vaguely familiar. "How about there? I think I set a food stall on fire there by accident, once..."

Without waiting, he drew his wings in just a little, swooping over houses and shops on his way to the plaza. Banners strewn over the streets rustled and snapped beneath him. He was glad to see the old grans were still at it. As he came in for a landing, he saw people milling about in the plaza. He gave a little roar to clear them out of the way, then extended his hind paws as he swept over the cobbled square. In the process, he promptly kicked over a food stall, spilling fruits and vegetables across the plaza. The impact threw off his momentum and dropped him onto the plaza where he tumbled head over tail across the square.

"AARGH! Revaramekdidnotinjurehimself!" As he rolled across the ground, he shouted half on instinct, hoping his spark would protect him. Somehow, he managed to roll right back onto his belly, aching everywhere but uninjured. He jumped back to his paws, gazing around. "I meant to do that!"

The gryphons soon landed behind him. One of them trotted towards the dragon, while another went to help the vendor get his cart set upright again. Revaramek turned around, calling out to the shopkeeper. "Sorry about that! Um..." What was it he used to say? Oh, right. "Head Councilwoman Mirelle will pay for any losses."

The blue gryphon trotted up to him. In his mind, Revaramek was already calling her Blue Jay. "Are you alright, dragon? You could have shattered your wings!"

"Yes, I suppose I could have..." He gazed back at his wings, stretching them one at a time. They had a few scrapes that burned and a few tears in the membranes that stung like mad, but nothing that wouldn't heal easily. "I have the strangest luck with things like that. Didn't mean to damage anything..." He glanced at the armored urd'thin who dismounted and then slung his bow over his shoulder. "Not used to landing in a place with people anymore."

"No, dragons rarely-" The gryphon clacked her beak. "Wait, anymore?" She twisted her head around and warbled something at her partner. As the gray one trotted over, Blue Jay gave him a strange look, her head tilted and her small crown feathers ruffled up. "What did you say about the head councilwoman a moment ago?"

"Mirelle, right?" Revaramek folded his wings, flexing his limbs one at a time to ease the ache from his hard landing. "She is Head Councilwoman, I should hope. Better be a damn good reason if she isn't."

"How do you know Mirelle?" The gray gryphon approached him close enough to sniff at his scales. "You smell odd. Even for a dragon."

Revaramek snorted, flaring his spines. "I'm not sure if that's an insult or not, but I probably smell an awful lot like poison right about now. And I know Mirelle because-"

"It's him!" Blue Jay gave a startled squawk.

"Who?" The gray one stared at her friend.

Blue Jay gaped at Revaramek, then turned her head and looked at something across the plaza. After a moment, she lifted a paw and pointed. "It's him."

When the other gryphon looked where Blue Jay was pointing, she gasped, and all her feathers stood on end.

Revaramek followed their gazes, and all at once, the world dropped away. At the far end of the plaza, he saw himself carved in stone and surrounded by books. His blood froze in his veins. Icy chills left his wings numb and his whole body shivering. With slow, unsteady steps, he walked across the plaza, scarcely noticing the people parting around him. All voices were but whispered murmurs.

The dragon stopped at the foot of the statue. It was as big as he was, a life size representation of himself. He knew in his heart Mirelle would keep her promise, that no one would forget him when he was gone, but he never expected something so grand, so permanent. So beautiful. Revaramek lifted a trembling forepaw to brush it over the open book clutched in the statue's paw, then over its grinning muzzle. He looked so joyful, the only way he'd ever want to be remembered.

Blinking away tears, Revaramek's gaze fell at last upon the memorial inscription at the base of the sculpture.

"Life is an exciting tale. Live it."

Revaramek the Resplendent

Hero.

Who made his mother proud.

It damn near broke his heart, in the best way imaginable. He sniffed and wiped his eyes, struggling to keep it together. The last thing he wanted to do was break down sobbing in front of everyone as soon as he returned. The statue was right, though. His mother would have been so proud of him. He wiped his eyes again, swallowing a few times, and slumped back onto his haunches.

Blue Jay eased up on one side of him, her crown feathers slicked back, and her voice soft. "It's...it's you, isn't it?"

Revaramek managed a nod, and then set his paw on hers. His voice was little more a raspy croak. "Please. Find Mirelle...tell her...tell her I'm home."

*****

Head Councilwoman Mirelle of the City State of Refuge sat in her expansive, leather-cushioned chair. The leather was stained a deep maroon color, almost the tone of red wine. It matched the dark mahogany frame well, and the overstuffed cushions were comfort themselves. The chair's arms were carved to resemble smiling dragons, while the back of it was adorned with array of scalloped feathers carved into the wood. Truth be told, Mirelle thought the chair too extravagant, but it was a gift from the rest of the council, and she could not help but cherish it.

"That tax increase is still too high, Kurekka." Mirelle leaned forward, drumming her fingers against a sheaf of paper. "It has to be dropped another percentage."

"No, it doesn't." Kurekka clacked his beak. The gryphon gestured with a dark brown wing, its red flight feathers on full display. "It isn't _that_much higher than what the visiting merchants already pay, and yet over a year or so the difference will be enough to finish funding the wall."

Across the table, Jekk leaned forward, tapping a quill against the documents sitting before him. "I have to agree with Councilman Kurekka."

"Must you call me Councilman?"

"Would you rather I call you Councilwoman?" Jekk chuckled to himself. "I'm not calling you Council-Gryphon, that just sounds foolish."

"You could just call me Kurekka."

"Hardly formal enough."

"Oh, balls." Kurekka squawked, and then turned his head to gaze at Mirelle. "Look, the point is, even Jekk agrees with me."

Jekk folded his arms. "And you know how rare that is."

"I'm in agreement in principal." Mirelle leaned back in her chair.

"As am I." Councilwoman Nell sipped from a mug. "But I think you're two percent too high, at the least. You'll be cutting into their profit margins."

"Their profit margins are high enough." Across the table from Nell, Tavaat rubbed his green-scaled hands together. "The problem isn't that adding a tax increase to visiting merchants is going to cut too far into their profits." The va'chaak glanced around at everyone, tail tip twitching behind him. He sat on a custom-made chair with no back to give him plenty of room for his tail. "The problem is that you're just going to drive them to Hope, instead, where they have no such tax."

"It'll take them another week's travel to get there." Jekk waved off the notion. "The cost of supplies will-"

"Be completely offset by the fact they're not paying an extra tax on anything they sell once they arrive." Tavaat thumped a finger on the table. "That's your problem right there. The average va'chaak trading party will happily travel an extra week to make more coin. We're used to traveling, a week is nothing. It's the same for the urd'thin. Hell, look at Rogma and Lim. Their village can get gryphons to fly them to Hope. Why are they going to want to stick around here when they get hit with a huge tax increase?"

"It isn't huge." Kurekka swished his feathered tail across the ground.

"Is what Chir'raal said." Tavaat laughed, folding his arms.

"Shut up!" Kurekka clacked his beak at him. "I still say, most of them are willing to remain because our market and our population remain far larger than any other city in the region. Even with my tax increase, they'll still stand to make a greater profit here as a result."

"Which is why..." Mirelle picked up her mug, gesturing with it before she took a long a drink. "We compromise. We drop a percent or two off your tax increase. We don't make quite as much, but we still continue funding the new wall, and we're less likely to drive off perspective traders."

"At the very least," Nell said, shaking a finger. "We need to broach the idea with the various heads of the urd'thin and va'chaak trading associations before we just...spring a tax increase on them."

"That's an excellent idea, Nell."

"Or..." Kurekka held up a paw, grinning, his ears perked. "And hear me out on this. We take my tax increase numbers, and then we lock all the merchant guild heads in a room with Mirelle and her newest, pointiest boots, and she doesn't stop kicking until they've all signed the new agreements."

Mirelle snorted, trying to hold back laughter. "As fun as that sounds, I'm not sure that's the message we want to send."

Mirelle leaned back in her chair with her hands clasped behind her head. While the others continued their debate, she stared up at the domed ceiling of the council's meeting hall. Her thoughts drifted to the recent past. It took them years, but their council finally had a new building worthy of the city. After much debate, they'd settled on simply calling the place The Hall. Made from a combination of limestone and wood, The Hall was designed as the center of law and leadership for the newly dubbed city-state of Refuge. Unlike the previous building, it was also built as fortress capable of withstanding an invasion and siege, if it ever came to it. Each council member had offices there, along with the chamber for formal meetings. They had also had a large grand hall to hold town meetings, as Mirelle thought it important for the townsfolk to feel welcome in the place. Within the same walled compound were the headquarters of various guard units, along with several barracks.

The Hall was located on the north end of the hill's summit, with other buildings set into the hillside. After long negotiations with the Va'chaak, Mirelle got them to agree to share the hill so long as they could put a shrine atop the center of its flat summit. Around the va'chaak shrine was a plaza for anyone to visit, a place of peace and reflection. On the far side of the summit, the va'chaak had built their own headquarters, a place for their elders to gather and make rulings, and to reflect the hill's spiritual importance to their people.

After The Hall was completed, Mirelle commissioned all sorts of paintings, banners and tapestries to decorate it with. In keeping with tradition, she adorned their meeting chamber with images of the town's past. Given the town's true secretive and bloody origins, she focused more on positive aspects and recent happenings. Though there were banners depicting the towns' founding by refugees from other worlds, and of the great battle with the va'chaak, there were far more images depicting the peace that followed. One tapestry showed a line of humans and a line of va'chaak all feasting together. Another showed urd'thin, gryphons, and dragons all visiting the town, welcomed as guests. The walls were lined with portraits of the town's heroes.

A loud, frantic knocking on the door drew Mirelle's attention, and silenced everyone else. Mirelle leaned forward to gaze at the door. "Yes?"

The door opened, and a young guard with dark skin peered into the room, wide-eyed. "Sorry to interrupt, but a dragon has just arrived. He's asking for you, Lady Mirelle. By name."

Mirelle pushed herself up out of her chair, glancing around at the other council members. A few dragons had visited them over the years, and some of those visits had gone better than others. Mirelle racked her brain, trying to guess which of them might have returned to speak with her. So far, none of them had decided to be citizens of the city, but some had staked out lands nearby. A few had even agreed to help keep the area safe in return for those tracts of land. At least one had been less cooperative. If this dragon knew her by name, then it had to be a previous visitor.

"What does he want, soldier?" Mirelle folded her arms. She was sure the gryphons on duty would have escorted the dragon to land, and she didn't want to summon up extra soldiers if she didn't have to. No sense making the dragon nervous, especially if they were not here to cause trouble. "I shall assume since he's asking for me, he seems to have peaceful intent, thus far?"

"Umm...well, yes..." Something about the soldier's demeanor set her ill at ease. The young man was a fairly new recruit, but he always had a stoicism about him that seemed missing now. He tilted his head back, scanning the many portraits and banners. He shifted his weight, rubbed his hands together. Mirelle couldn't tell if he was nervous, excited, or both. "I think he...he just wants to talk to you. In person. Erm...again, I think."

"So it's one of the dragons we know?" Mirelle furrowed her brow. She glanced at the council. Jekk shrugged and Kurekka flexed his wings. "Which one is it?" She grimaced, and picked up her mug, then took a drink. "It's not Buralva, is it?"

"No, Ma'am." The soldier lifted his arm and pointed with a single, shaking finger, at the one of the banners hanging from the ceiling. "I...I think it's that one."

Mirelle glanced to where he was pointing, and froze.

"He...he says he's home..."

She dropped her mug. Wine splashed across her boots, soaking the floor. For a long moment she just stood there, staring at Revaramek's image. She could not even breathe. Her heart stumbled over its beats. It wasn't possible. He was dead. She'd come to accept that. Long ago, that the dragon known as the Hero of the Marsh died for their city.

"I...I can't be sure, but he's green, and he's missing his horns, and he-"

"Where is he?" Mirelle's voice shuddered. She charged to the door and past the guard, halfway down the hall before he even had a chance to reply.

"By the statue! There's...there's a crowd gathered, and-"

"I'll fly you!" Kurekka was alongside her in an instant. All the main corridors were large enough to fit any gryphon. He dropped to his belly long enough for Mirelle to climb onto his back, and then raced through the hallways, heading for the courtyard. In moments, they were outside. "Hold on!"

Kurekka sprang into the air, compressing Mirelle down against his feathered back. She wrapped an arm around the gryphon's neck, gritting her teeth as the gryphon ascended. Though she'd long since overcome her fear of flight, it was impossible for her to ignore that jarring, stomach churning sensation of ascension. It was made all the worse by the battle of terror and excitement in her belly. Could it truly be him? Gods, how she hoped it was. But she'd been disappointed before. Each time she heard tales of a dragon in the area, she could not help but hope it was him, even as she knew it never would be. Yet each time that faint hope was crushed, it was more painful than the last. But this was different. Never had anyone said, it was him.

The flight down the hillside and across town took only moments, but for Mirelle they felt like an eternity. Her whole body ached from anxious tension, but if she gripped Kurekka's neck too tightly he did not complain. He must have felt the same way she did. Each beat of the gryphon's wings left another dozen buildings behind them, a dozen more blurring by just as swiftly. Wind roared around her, tangling her black hair. When she first caught glimpse of green scales in the distance, she gasped, her body rigid.

It couldn't be.

Kurekka circled the plaza, descending at a steep angle and calling out to the crowd below. "Make way!"

While the gryphon shot towards the square, Mirelle twisted around, trying to keep her eyes on the dragon seated before the statue. Green scales. Copper blotches on his wings, stripes on his limbs. His horns were gone, but one lingered in a familiar, jagged nub. He turned away from the statue, and recognition dawned in his bronze eyes. A smile broke out across his muzzle as he pushed up to all fours.

A smile, still familiar after all these years.

It couldn't be.

But it was.

"Revaramek!" Mirelle screamed his name as Kurekka swept in for a landing. The gryphon hadn't even trotted to a stop before Mirelle leapt off his back. She stumbled, fell to her knees, and pushed herself back to her feet in the same motion. She sprinted for the dragon, and once more called his name, her voice nothing but sheer, ragged elation. "Revaramek!"

Mirelle crossed the whole plaza an instant, and threw herself against the dragon. She got her arms around his neck, hugging him so tight it hurt. Tears streamed down her face as he lifted her off her feet, a foreleg around her. She buried her face against his neck, sobbing into his scales. She murmured his name, over and over, but it came out only as a muffled moan, a broken whimper.

"Hello, Mirelle!" Revaramek's voice sounded little better, rasping and cracked as he held her aloft in his forelimb. "I'm...I'm back..."

It was so perfectly, completely like him to announce something so obvious in such an emotional moment that it reduced her to gibbering laughter. She giggled through her sobs, struggling for words. "I...I noticed..." She hugged his neck again, squeezing him as tight as she could, till his scales dug into her arms and her feet tingled from being held aloft so long. "You...you can put me down. If you want. You don't have to."

Revaramek eased her down to her feet, and as soon as they touched the ground, she hugged him again, this time pressing herself to his chest. Revaramek stroked her back, curling his neck down to nuzzle her.

Tears wet his muzzle. "I missed you, Mirelle."

"I missed you too, you resplendent idiot."

"Councilwoman Mirelle..." Kurekka warbled behind her, a sound somehow shattered yet joyful at the same time. "If you'll quit hogging my benevolent overlord..."

Laughing again, Mirelle forced herself to pull away from the dragon. She sniffled and wiped her eyes. As soon as she was clear, Kurekka hurled himself at the dragon hard enough to send Revaramek stumbling back against the statue. The gryphon hugged him with forelegs and wings alike, nearly obscuring Revaramek behind a veil of brown and crimson feathers. Tears wet the soft, downy pinfeathers of the gryphon's face as Kurekka nuzzled Reveramek, cooing and warbling and chirruping.

When Kurekka eased his wings back, Mirelle moved up to put her hand on Revaramek's side, stroking his scales. His greens were paler than she remembered, and he wasn't near as stout as she recalled, either. She wasn't sure if he'd lost weight, or if the memory merely outweighed the reality. He had a few extra scars than she remembered. A thousand questions whirled through her mind, but she knew there'd be time to ask them all later.

Smiling, she patted the dragon's foreleg when his embrace with the gryphon ended. "Welcome home, Revaramek."

"Thank you, Mirelle." Revaramek wiped his nose with a paw, then turned and gazed once again at the sculpture. "I...I love this statue. It's...beautiful."

"I...I'm glad..." Mirelle walked towards it, waving a shaking hand at the inscription. "I...I had to keep my promise, after all. I thought...this would..." She gulped a few times, fighting just to find words.

"It's perfect." Revaramek rubbed her back, then perked his frills, a hint of familiar mischief shining in his bronze eyes. "Might have to make a change, though. It can't accurately be called a memorial, since I haven't died."

Mirelle shuffled her boots against the cobblestone. "I'll...get right on that. We...we all thought..."

"So did I, Mirelle. I went there..." Revaramek swallowed, tilting his head to gaze up at the sky. "I went there, ready to die for this beautiful world. And I won. I beat him, I trapped him...and I knew he was going to kill me for it. And then...then he didn't. I never knew why, but...years later, I...wait." He glanced back down at her. "How...how long have I been gone?"

"Almost eight years, I think."

"Eight years in about a month." Kurekka patted Revaramek's paw, brushing him with his wing. "There's a festival, held in your honor, now. Well...held in the honor of everyone who died for the village."

"I guess...I don't count, anymore." Revaramek smiled, but there was a hollowness creeping into his eyes, into his smile. He gazed around at the crowds swelling the plaza. Until now, Mirelle was so overwhelmed she scarcely noticed all the people, all the murmuring voices, the cheers and shouts. "Look at them all..."

"They're all here for you, I think. At least, they will be, when they realize who you are. They'll all want to see you." Mirelle stroked his scales, smiling up at him. "Their benevolent overlord. You're...you're a hero to this place now, Rev. They're all going to want to see you. Want to thank you..."

"That is...nice." Revaramek took a slow, shuddering breath. "But...first I think...I should just like to be with my friends. I...I have not seen so many people in a very long time. Or...or any people, really, other than Nyra and Korakos."

The moment the names spilled off the dragon's tongue, something in him changed. He cringed, his ears drooping. The bronze walls of his eyes cracked, and though he turned his head away, it was impossible to miss the fresh tears spilling down his emerald muzzle. He wiped them away, but more followed, just as quickly. He shuddered, lowering his head, and Mirelle bit her lip.

They must be...

Mirelle sprang into action. She swallowed back her emotions, and threw her hands out towards the crowd. "Yes! The Hero of the Swamp is alive! Yes, we all rejoice at his survival! But he has been a long time away, in a very dark, dangerous place! Please, I ask you now to clear this plaza, so as not to overwhelm him! Celebrate his return, but give him time to come to terms with living in this world again! Spread word, and when he is ready to meet you all, we shall hold a celebration in his honor!"

When she was done speaking, she gestured for the guards who were working the crowds to start pushing people back. She wasn't going to force them all to leave, but she wanted to give Revaramek as much space as she could. Once the people had been moved back and the crowds had thinned, she returned to the dragon. He now lay curled on the cobblestone, his wings draped haphazardly across the ground. Even stretched out, his wings were shaking. One forepaw was balled up into a fist, and the other splayed, claws stretching at the stone. He took shuddering breaths, only for them to fight back out as wracking groans.

Revaramek was sobbing.

Mirelle wasn't sure she had ever seen him sob, before. Not like that, anyway. Kurekka was already stroking his neck, sitting next to him. Mirelle moved to sit alongside his head, where she gently rubbed his muzzle, wiping away some of his tears. She already knew. She knew as soon as he spoke their names.

"You don't...have to say anything, but...if it helps..."

"I have a family, Mirelle!" It took all the dragons strength just to put words to his grief. "A mate, a son! But...but...they couldn't..." He sucked in another breath, barely able to push his voice through the sobs that wracked him. "They couldn't...come with me! They'll...think I'm dead! They're stuck there...in that horrible...that horrible place! He...he said it was...the only way! The only way to save them...Gods, Mirelle, what have I done? What have I done!"

Every word ripped another piece out of Mirelle's heart. She longed to do anything to put Revaramek at ease, but what could she tell him? She hugged his head, pressed her face to his scales, and whispered the only comforting words she could think of.

"You saved them Rev, just like you saved us!" Her own tears spilled across his scales, and she could only hope she was telling him the truth. "Whatever happened, I know you Rev, and I know, in my heart, if this was to save them, then you've done it! You've saved them. One day...one day you'll see them again, and then they'll know."

Revaramek lifted his head, gazing back at her with tear-filled eyes. He moved his jaws, but managed only a few whimpered words. "Know what?"

"That you're a hero." Mirelle leaned down to kiss his nose, forcing herself to smile. "Someday soon...you'll see them again, I promise. And then, then your family will know, just as we do, that you're a hero. Because that's what you've always been, even when we couldn't see it. A hero."