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Beautiful chaos, it spread out beneath the watchful eyes of the elves and dragons both as children of many species went tearing along the paths. Most were just learning to walk, but the young satyrs were sure enough on their feet that they could leap and scrabble far beyond their peers. Amber kept her eyes warily on the red and white leader what was trying to coax one of the larger ones up on a rock with him. The humans were all but useless still, settled in their baskets and playing with the common blocks and such that any youngster was given, but the otterkin and satyrs were full and active. It made her rumble softly in pleasure to herself as she watched Oake reaching the highest point with his tail wagging rapidly back and forth behind him. It was doing him good to have youngsters his own age here, it would continue to do him good to grow up with him.

She had been surprised when her suggestion had met with some hesitancy on behalf of the Matron. The older woman had chewed her lips a few times and tried to dissuade her, offering to watch Oake personally to keep him out of trouble. The dragoness had had a simple request, one which was perfectly reasonable when considering the orphans that had been rescued so she had pushed matters. She knew what Alaine would have felt about having an elf watch over his fawn and, though Amber didn't understand it, she certainly would broach his trust by going behind his back to make her own life easier. She had simply pressed matters, leaning on the Matron until a young set of drakes had arrived with their saddles holding cradles of the youngsters. And Oake had been enthused for the company that was not always drowsing or relaxing.

Amber let her eyes linger on the rest of his group, four other satyr fawns that were a touch smaller than Oake, and two otterkin pups that were larger and prone to wild attacks and tumbles. The human children wouldn't walk yet for months yet, perhaps not even years, but they were welcome all the same. To her prejudice eye, Oake was quite a little leader, always finding new things for them to play with or games that they could all join in together. Yesterday he had even conned her into playing a monster, roaring and swinging her head back and forth over a 'treasure' of shiny rocks. It had been amusing for Oake, but she had been forced to still her 'fierce' snarls as the rest of the youngsters seemed shy and anxious around dragons.

Oake is a brave little fellow. _ She lifted her head up and resettled her wings smugly. _Alaine and I will shape him to be a fierce warrior when he grows up. I've never seen a grown satyr, though, I wonder if he'll grow any more like an elf instead of a goat...

_ _

Her musings continued for a few moments before she was disturbed by the quiet sound of footfalls, making her tilt her head to see the Matron approaching. The older female elf was in charge of the breeding grounds, she was sharp with numbers and always knew how to account for the amount of food they had. She was also positively magical when it came to eggs and brooding of them. Many a dragoness had tired of the long brooding process without a mate to relieve her, so the Matron had learned how to help. Sewed skins filled with heated rocks and water were often used, and elven hands could turn the eggs just right. She also knew instinctively when a hatching was close, sometimes before a dragoness herself knew her children were ready for the world. She held absolute control here, even to the point that grown drakes would listen to her before their Riders.

"Matron." Amber rumbled pleasantly, keeping her attention divided between the older elf and the tussling youngsters. "Thank you for helping bring the little ones here. Oake is thriving among them."

"So I see." The elf cast a dismissive look towards the playing youngsters before shifting her emerald gaze towards Amber. "I had hoped to speak to you about that. It seems the non-humans are quite advanced for their age. The satyrs, for instance, are speaking already?"

"Oh yes!" Amber dipped her head in agreement, almost preening with pride. She had recently gotten Oake to pronounce the 'm' in her name. "They are quite quick with their tongues. I'm sure that within a month they'll speak far more clearly."

"We'll have to do something with them then." Matron's brows furrowed slightly and Amber crooned sympathy to that look.

The teachers they had here were mostly for dragonets, and while they were good, these youngsters were certainly not dragons. They would have to learn to read and write, as well as listen to the histories with the rest of the youngsters around here. They didn't keep too many elven children here, but perhaps they could bring more and have a little school for them. The idea made Amber's tail curl in pleasure. She had always enjoyed young creatures, but as her hormones shifted in answer to her growing clutch, the presence of them seemed to bring greater pleasure to her. She might even try to learn how to read the elven tongue.

"Well, at least we won't lack for workers." Matron let out a sigh, almost an annoyed one. "Pick out the ones that are old enough to fetch and carry and we'll start putting them to work in the kitchens to keep them out of trouble."

Amber blinked in shock. "But they'll need schooling, they're growing fast enough that soonest is best to get them reading properly, and mathematics as well, I know that is important.." She began to list off what she had always heard elves needed, but the Matron cut her off.

"For what? They're little above animals, Amber, they can't learn higher levels and it would only make the poor things frustrated to try and teach them." The elf sounded almost sympathetic as Amber swung her head all the way around to stare at her. "Better they become useful in other ways. I'm sure those satyrs could tend the stables and herds, that way they'll pay their way for their care. And the otters will make fine fishers. I'll see about assigning a few people to get them started..."

"Animals?!" Amber stiffened, an unfamiliar sensation of outrage hitting her at the dismissive attitude towards the youngsters.

"I don't mean you, my dear. You're elevated above them." Matron looked at her as she spoke, and her smile turned patronizing. The same sort of smile she turned on a female with her first egg that wouldn't let it out of her sight. "I'm sure Alaine's little fawn is exceptional for his kind. Don't fret about it. Just help the people I send find the bright ones so we can get them disciplined hmm?"

The woman patted Amber's smooth shoulder in a paternal way, ignoring the outrage in the dragoness' eyes as she jerked her head up high in the air. Exceptional for his kind? What was that supposed to mean? She turned her head around and stared at the gathering of playing youngsters and furrowed her brows. They wouldn't be taught? But they were learning to speak and were quite bright, why shouldn't they be given schooling like the elves were given? They weren't animals, they seemed quite smart to her, at least as smart as dragons. The dragoness shifted, flexing her claws against the ground before pushing up to all fours and trilling out for Oake to come to her.

"It's nearly dark, we need to get you bedded down." She kept her annoyance out of her tone as the small buck gave her a pleading look. "Come along now."

"H'Amber! Don't want to!" He wriggled away, but not fast enough to escape her jaws when he tried to bolt back up his 'mountain'.

Amber snorted in amusement, carefully using her lips on the squirming bleating fawn before nodding to the caretakers and turning about. Her mind roiling with anger and outrage at the conversation she had just had. How dare they say that Oake was an animal good for nothing but work?! Did they think they would take these young orphans and simply work them like servants and believe that they would be glad for the chance of it? The thought made her hide flush with fury that she contained for the sake of the fawn in her jaws. She would have a word with someone higher than the Matron about this. Oake was Alaine's, and through her mate, he was her's as well. He would be educated and taught with respect!

~ ~ * ~ ~

It began here, with ashes on my tongue and my body barely able to move... Alaine stared at the small island of ash and dead rock, while the drakes complained loudly about the mess that was coating their scales.

He ignored them all. He padded over the rocks and made a short leap, one added with an awkward sweep of his wings to scrabble onto the tallest point he could find. The obsidian made a screeching sound as his claws slipped over it on his way towards the top of the rock, and looked onto his home and his hell.

Lush and green, it was glorious in the sunlight, a distant speck on the ocean, but his eyes made it out greedily. He wound his tail around the stone to balance himself while looking over the edges of the Isle and was struck with the sense of the unfamiliar. He had spent nearly all of his life there, but from a distance he had no idea what was there. He didn't know what features were past the shore, if there were valleys or lush ponds that he could bathe in. He wasn't sure what prey he could find there, if any, all he knew was the hell beneath the cliff's and the towering mountains that huddled at one side of it. He knew the trails and caverns beneath the earth, the way that his claws would have to hold onto certain spots or risk his load dragging him back. He knew the hunger and stink of his kind kept in cages and ill fed.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the memories that hit against him, pounding along his mind before a shudder ran the length of his spine. He couldn't dwell on them right now, he could only concentrate on what was going on now and the sun was setting. They had spent nearly two days swimming and flying this way. Whenever they reached a spot to rest the youngsters would inevitably decide to fly above him for a span, enjoying the freedom of the air before crashing down. Crimson had had to be carried the last portion, the young drake finding his strength fading as the two blues were still filled with excitement. Alaine was tired too, but right now he couldn't rest, he had too much to do and Thronnos would begin to arrive with others in the next twenty four hours.

"Sapphire." Alaine turned his head back towards the darker blue who was attempting to dig at the ashy sand. "I want you to all roll in the ash, cover yourselves in it so that your colors are hidden."

"I am not-" Azure started to complain, his eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"Do it, I need you to be hidden in case they have looking glasses. Sapphire will be left in charge while I'm gone." Alaine shifted on the rock and faced them briefly. "I'm going to try and get into the old mine and see if there's a way to move through to new one via the old passageways. I want to see if I can release any of the dragons still alive in there. If I am not here when Thronnos returns, tell him to look for my mark on the cliff base, he will not be able to miss it."

"Sir.." Crimson spoke up nervously, his wings flicking to either side like a bird about to alight. "Shouldn't we all wait here? In the morning-"

"No." Alaine almost snarled the word. "I need to go ahead alone, I will return before dawn if there is no trouble, if there is trouble... If I do not return by the afternoon, assume I was captured. You will have commanders then that will know what to do."

"I.. s-suppose sir." Crimson almost hesitated while Alaine leapt down from the rock, ignoring the jarring to his wings while he kept his eyes focused on the distant Isle. "Sir?"

"Yes?" He twitched his head a little bit, barely listening as he started to walk into the water. The Isle sang to him, a blood drenched song of memories and pain, but it called to him still.

"I was thinking, sir, about the story of Khillon?" Crimson followed him a few steps and Alaine stifled annoyance as he turned away from the island to give him an impatient look.

He had told stories that he recalled to the drakes as they went along, trying to offer them some of their heritage back. He wasn't entirely able to recall things that he should have, only small things, half remembered stories that he had heard in the tunnels when they had been able to speak, before the muzzles. He had enjoyed telling them, and the young drakes had drank in the stories of old deeds and magnificent battles. Khillon had been the drake that had risen to near King-like status after a great war, a canny creature, he had used cunning instead of weight or strength to defeat his enemies.

"What about him?" Alaine stifled his annoyance to answer politely enough, he wanted them to think, he wanted them to know their old stories and hold to them.

"I was just thinking..." Crimson ducked his head several times with nervousness as Alaine watched. "I would like to be called Khilloni, not Crimson. I liked his story very much, sir."

Alaine stopped yearning towards the Isle and blinked his eyes a few times in surprise and let out a rasping rumble of approval towards the young drake. Khilloni, the 'i at the end signifying that it was a honorific name taken in homage to a greater dragon. He felt a rush of pride in the young red dragon, one that vibrated out in a near croon before he spread one of his aching wings and gave the youngster a light touch with a wing finger.

"Khilloni, wear your name with honor." Alaine's voice was rough, and the youngster tucked his head in embarrassment, tilting it this way and that before squirming backwards.

The confused emotions that Alaine had felt slipped away in the wave of pride for the young drake, while he plunged into the surf and water. His eyes set on his destination, his ancestral home and personal hell, leaving Khilloni behind with a new name. And, hopefully, a new grasp of his heritage.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Great splatters of water fell down from Alaine's mouth and paws as he heaved himself out of the water, struggling against the current to get onto the ledge beneath an overhang of solid rock. His claws tore scrapes up against the limestone before be heaved himself forward step by step. The water spilled along his wings, draining down while he swung his head about and spied the narrow opening that should, in theory, take him into the mines themselves. At least, the old mines. The air that spilled out of them tasted stale and dead, his tongue flicked out a few times to make sure that there were no elves hiding out of sight, guarding the entrance. All he could scent was himself, ocean water, rock and the faint old scent of dragon and elves.

Finding the narrow entrance that had been used to bring gems down to the 'dock' was easy, digging his way through proved to be harder than he had expected. It took every bit of his body to wedge, tear, bite and claw his way past the opening, writhing and curling his neck back and forth until the lime stone crumbled away on either side of his body. Through it all, he strained to hear any hint that he had been heard, that the elves might notice that he was breaking into the mines, but no one came, no one heard, there was no one there. When he stepped into the mine proper he was struck with just how empty everything was. All his life he had known it as an active place, of picks and claws, grinding carts and elves, but he stood in the midst of udder silence and darkness with a sensation of panic that rose up and threatened to choke him.

The red drake stepped along the horrifically familiar paths, feeling as if ghosts were lapping against him and whispering his name around hidden corners. Each step that he took made his head jerk around, half expecting to see a handler rushing towards him with one of their damned whips or jabs. The carved paths that led up and away from the dock took him along a massive cavern that smelled of decay and death. His muzzle crinkled back in disgust, attempting to ignore the scent as he picked a route that he knew would take him to the highest point of the mine where the upper openings were located. There was no light, how could there be, there was no use for it, but Alaine knew this place from a lifetime of servitude. He knew by the way his paws touched the path and the familiar turns that he was on one of the main hauling paths. He could almost feel the indents of wheels cast in the soft limestone.

He shuddered, as the ghosts of his past nipped at his mind, filling it with the sensory memories of the last time he had been here. The bite of the harness, the foul muzzle that had been snapped to his head, the way he had struggled with a load too heavy. He could almost feel the pressure of the harness biting against his chest as he struggled up the steeper slope. The only sound was his own rasping breath and the sound of his talons on the ground, and that too brought with it a fearful edge. If an elf came into the mines now, they would hear him plainly. There'd be no hiding the sounds of such a large creature moving through the echoing darkness. His luck only held out as he made it to the highest point of the mine, where bands of weak light filtered down from doors that had been boarded shut. But it was enough to give him his bearings.

Seven main paths led from the high point of the mine and outwards. He had been working in the ones that were newly created and stretched towards what he assumed was the east. That would be the best place to start. If they were changing the mines, they might have decided to start from that side and mine towards the old one so things met in the middle. He gave himself a nod, agreeing with himself, before stepping forward and onto something wet and hard that crunched beneath his foot with a putrid eruption of smell that made him gag and scrabble backwards.

The weak light of the doors didn't show him what he'd stepped on, but his nose had been picking it up from the moment he'd come up along the path. He could smell it on his paw while he tried to wipe to stink off, his eyes locked on the vague outline in front of him. A dragon. Or what had once been a dragon. The thin band of light showed a gaping skull with flesh rotting along the sides, the jaws spread open as the tendons had dried and the black gaping sockets were staring at him almost accusingly. Fear and rage welled up inside of him, bile almost choking the back of his throat. He and four other dragons had come out of the mines the day they had been moved, it seemed that another hadn't made it to the new mines, but not been as lucky as Alaine.

The young drake lowered his head briefly, choking on the rotting smell, but forcing his mind to wrap around his rage. Today he would avenge this dragon and so many others. Today he would emerge in their minds, not chained and cowed, but free and powerful. His throat chords tightened in the urge to roar, but he stifled it, and instead turned towards the eastern tunnel as quietly as he could. He would find a way to break through, and lead an army into their midst. This one had not made it, but others would make, he would see to that.

Only hold on a little longer, your freedom is coming, I swear to you.. He breathed silently as he slid deeper into the earth, his ears straining to hear for any weak spot that he could find.

~ ~ * ~ ~

Draeg Bloddym was a towering fortress that went well beyond any 'small settlement' that Rowan had been thinking of when it came to getting her fawn free. It took them the better half of a week to get there, and the moment they saw the high imposing walls, she had felt nothing but despair. There were no open gates or multiple entrances to get into the place, only one set of doors that were guarded and the dragons that were constantly flying overhead. If not for the dryad's they would have been found out in an instant. It looked as if they had come so far, and fought so hard, to be turned away by a simple set of walls. But Heartwood hadn't been so sure, nor had Darkbud, or the rest of the bucks. And now, she watched in bemusement as Heartwood stood on all fours in front of her while she had another of the satyrs at her side and a sharp dagger.

Johen had been willing to try to go in as an elf again, but this place wouldn't be forgiving if they saw someone pretending to be an elf and they would certainly have guards. There was no risking it, but there was another group that no one paid attention to nearly at all. Rowan had watched them every two days come in with another herd of beasts. Every time it was a mixture of cows and ox and sheep and goats being pushed through the gates in a lowing bleating mass. It made sense, if this was the breeding ground than they would have to feed them fresh meat and it was likely easier to deliver it to young mouths instead of hunting on a small island and hoping. It had taken a quick leap of logic to come up with a disguise for two of the bucks to go in, not as elves, but as goats.

"H'I am not to be shaved bald." The youngster blinked at her nervously, his pink tongue flicking out rapidly. "Please."

"No, we just need enough to cover up some parts of Heartwood." Rowan agreed and began to cut the long strands of hair from under his chin, removing most of the thick beard that naturally grew there.

"H'I do not know h'if this will work, Rowan?" Heartwood watched her with concern on his caprine features. "We h'aren't that goat-like."

"You're not, but if we strip you down and cover the skin on your back with fur.." She cut a bit more swiftly. "They won't look that closely. Who would study a goat? You're food, and as long as you don't go running away they aren't going to care."

"H'I suppose.." The buck watched her uncertainly, and glanced over to where Darkbud was being trimmed as well, looking angry and ready to kick about having his beard taken off.

A young buck named Barktrack was going with Heartwood. He wasn't the oldest of the group, but he was remarkably quick and steady and that's what they needed. Heartwood was intelligent and swift, but he was also a dominant male and could be roused to anger too easily, they wanted to have a balance when they got into the breeding grounds.

It was strange, she had met Heartwood when she'd first come into season and at a great festival. He had been full of boasts and laughter, his easy going ways had been compounded with a firm strength that had commanded her attention. He had neatly seduced her, promising her a home of her own, land for her to care for, a fine fawn to grow up beneath her eyes. It had been a heady thing to have his attention so firmly devoted to her and they had come together in a rush of heat and need. Yet, she had never really known him. They spent a few weeks together, most of it spent nude and eager, and that was that. Now, she was coming to see him as something more than the father of her fawn. She saw the flaws as well as the strengths he held. The attention he showed her was unnatural for both of them, his need to defend her against the other bucks keeping him on edge, but he was also incredibly gentle with her. At night, he'd even taken to curling up near her, his heavy arm embracing her as if to assure himself she wasn't going to be stolen away.

It was obvious that he had no idea what to do with a doe that wasn't in heat. His interest in her was as her mate and their shared interest in her offspring, but he wasn't sure what that meant. He had begun to try and speak with her, but both of them found it awkward. It was sweet, at times, the way that he went out of his day to make sure that she was in sight. The rest of the young bucks made half hearted attempts to gain her attention, but as she wasn't in heat it wasn't more than a few boasts and mock fights. It still had him on edge, she could feel he was on edge. She wondered if he was regretting coming here now, if he was already thinking about his territory that was unprotected save for the dryad that had promised to watch over the rest of his does.

We were never meant to live together like this.. She sighed a little as she began to use a mixture of mud and glue to past the fur onto the line of her mate's back. Neither of us know what to do. He wants to keep me safe, but I'm not in heat, so he has no idea how to really act. At least this will give him something to concentrate on.

_ _

They needed to find where the children were, mark the area, and find a way to let in the rest of the group if they could. It was an all or nothing mission, they wouldn't get a second chance and there was no way that the 'goats' could leave once they were herded in. Barktrack had grown up near one of the larger cities, a strange satyr for wanting to be near other people, but he might have a good idea on how the fortress was set up.

This is our best hope, our best bet.. She repeated to herself mentally as she continued to cover up the pale skin along Heartwood's back, watching as he worked to get his finger tips together to make them appear more goat-like. If the gods are with us...