[ both of them dead, huh. erebus felt it natural, his own parents could be alive or dead, he’d just never know.
the fact of the matter was that the boy didn’t have a name either, and silence stretches around them like the chills of a frigid winter. you’d think he had forgotten they were speaking, or ignoring him once more.
but for one, he doesn’t take his eyes off the boy. this goes on until moments seem like cycles, until it felt like if the sun was around, it would’ve hovered halfway across the sky by now. it was enough time for the fish to cook and for him to eat everything to the thin bones, all of that time used to search the meanings that dragonian had taught him. ]
Eleos.
[ compassion. clemency. benevolence. he doesn’t voice its meaning, but it fits like the stick he walks around with. ]
[When it had fallen silent, the boy had assumed it was the end of it. He felt...slightly disappointed, in a way that he couldn't exactly place why. Was he hoping Erebus would name him like he did for him? He's not sure why he would, he seemed to care little for human customs.
So the boy returns to tending to his fish. He cooks it to when it looks done and pulls it from the fire. Picking at it and eating what meat he could get. It was a far cry from the meals he'd cook himself back in the village and access to actual cooking supplies, but for a hungry man it was feast enough. He consumes it all without complaint, down until there's nothing but bits of scales and thin bones, which he tosses into the forest to be something else's meal.
He was just trying to figure out his sleeping arrangements when the dragon spoke.
Eleos.
The boy stops in mid-thought. Despite it being so long since they seemingly ended their conversation, he didn't need to ask for context. He knew right away that it was his name. It sinks into him, weaving into his identity so seamlessly. Canary, what the villagers had called him, suddenly seemed like a childish insult than any name. Even the name his mother gave him, it now felt like an endearing childhood nickname. Sweet and a name he'd respond to, but not his real name.]
My name is Eleos.
[He says out loud in an awed tone. It felt so right. So much so that he doesn't realize the oddity - a demi-human going by a name from the language meant only for dragons and gods. Nor does he realize that accepting the name is sealing his own fate, causing that tattoo on his wrist to subtly become more intricate- more permanent.
No, all he could focus on was that he had a name. A true name. All his earlier skepticism had been diminished. He understood what it meant now. The power of such a name.]
Thank you, Erebus.
[Eleos puts his hand to his chest, and there's an unmistakable note of warm gratitude in his voice. ]
[ there’s a hum of energy flowing, perhaps through them, around them . . . with how these names knot together. erebus for one acknowledges it the moment he accepted his name, and perhaps a little further when giving one to Eleos.
it has a good ring to it. now, with bright eyes glinting into the crackles of fire, the dragon pulls himself back into a resting position, head into wing. they can finally close shut, and in anything, bare less strained facial muscles. a touch of relaxation. ]
Get rest, Eleos. I won’t wait for you.
[ in the morning, they had much to do. he wouldn’t actually be sleeping, but rather light snooze. keeping watch was of extreme importance for both of them. he’s thinking about both of them, wasn’t he?
. . . it’s still strange, but he doesn’t reject it. eleos still had to use his newfound freedom wisely. ]
[Oh right. Sleep. Eleos had forgotten about that in his excitement over his name. His body hadn't forgotten however, it felt exhaustion from a long day in every muscle and bone. And now that he was in a spot of relative safety (because what's safer than next to a dragon), his body was no longer tried to hide how tired it was.]
O-Oh...Alright.
[He'll stretch out himself before lying down, using his wings to half give him a pillow, and half to keep him warm. He's used to sleeping in bedding, but he's tired enough that he'll be able to sleep on the ground tonight. It's been a long day.]
Goodnight, Erebus.
[The hum of energy that came from the names gave him a thrill that he didn't fully understand. But he was too tired to ponder it, his eyelids drooping down and closing on him almost involuntarily. Within minutes, his breath had slowed enough to show he was truly asleep.
His dreams that night were...unexpected. There was no dreams of the burning village, or the villagers that now gone. Instead he dreamed that he was looking for something on the edges of this valley. Something that'd help him find his freedom. Freedom from humans who enslave him, freedom from this form, freedom to fly with his other...
A door large enough to fit a dragon covered in runes on the side of a mountain, hidden away by the forest growth. That's where he wound up in the dream. Eleos had never seen this place before in his life, and yet somehow he knew it...]
Fafnir...
[He murmurs the name in his sleep as it gets close to dawn. It's possibly a name Erebus would recognize. An old legend about people turning into dragons, or something along those lines. Whatever Erebus's knowledge is of it, Eleos won't remember it when he wakes.]
[ erebus goes on and off with sleep until he loses any touch of drownsiness and gets up. the fish get up early and a snack before they leave might be a good idea (he actually manages to catch a single fish, toasted and ready for eleos to eat once he rises. he hadn’t relaxed enough to dream, but he hears eleos as he looks around for fish by the river’s edge, the sun having yet to rise and the sky still dimly lit with hues of blue and pink.
fafnir.
things like that are near forbidden to speak of these days, and when erebus catches the word in the air, from a mere human, he snaps his neck and stares.
he’d ask that morning, and wouldn’t have an answer. it would linger as a ludicrous thought, for days, even weeks as they walk. erebus and his wing begin to heal, feeling less pain and weight as the days and weeks pass. they don’t find a village yet, it’s farther away without flight, much farther than they could imagine— but perhaps they’ve found something else.
erebus no longer growls at him, allows him to close distance and even does so himself (no mutual touching yet, though. erebus is a tough cookie). you can say, with ease, that they have become friends. erebus doesn’t leave him alone and always follows where he goes. summer time greets the skies and the trees with bright colors, full of life, and smells of freshness through the forests being reborn.
today, it’s hot enough to keep the dragon tremendously active, and finding a coursing river to cross—
he sits in it instead. rest? rest. dragon down. the water is wonderful, and all he does to express further his desire is whip his tail into the river’s bed, and leaving eleos in the splash zone, without truly meaning to. whoops. ]
[ Indeed it's a long journey to another village when they are traveling on foot. Even longer when they only have a vague idea which direction to go. Eleos had heard of other villages that would trade with his, but it wasn't like he had ever traveled to it himself. And Erebus was so used to traveling by air that navigating on the ground was a whole different beast. And so, the journey stretched on into weeks.
And yet? As time went by, Eleos couldn't bring himself to be bothered how long it was taking. The first few days there'd been moments for sure where he was angry at Erebus, or wanted to be away from the dragon. But over time those moments slowly became less frequent and milder as he grew more used to the dragon's company. He'd find himself moving to the dragon's side more often as they traveled, curling up next to him as he slept at night.
On top of that, Eleos was learning to love the freedom that came with traveling like this. The village had so many rules and restrictions to follow, both for the general village and ones just for him as a demi-human. But out here? All those rules that once seemed so crucial were meaningless and obsolete. The only laws that mattered were the laws of nature, which while some were admittedly harsh, most were made easier when traveling with a dragon.
Between those two things, there was a growing part of Eleos that dreading the day they'd find another village. He wanted to stay out here, in the freedom of the wilds, by Erebus's side.
Today had been a rather hot day. While it made Erebus active, Eleos found himself feeling sluggish as his body sweated to keep cool. He had kneeled down to drink some of river water to keep himself hydrated when
SPLASH
A huge splash of water from Erebus's tail hits him- drenching his entire person with cold water. He's stunned for a moment, needing a second to process just what hit him. But the moment the initial shock wears off? ]
H-Hey!
[He gives a little grin and wades into the cool water, swinging his staff in a spell that causes a big splash right back in retaliation. Yep. We sure are having a water fight.]
[ erebus only sees what he’s done after stretching his neck along the waters and letting the creation of waves lap at his scales. eleos is drenched and now he’s— throwing water right back at him.
he’s throwing water right back at his enough that he flinches back with slight surprise, enough to protect his eyes with the third lid sliding over them.
if you want retaliation, he will give you retaliation. in which, the dragon lifts himself up and spreads a wing out wide, slapping it against the river’s currents and causing an even greater wave. a wave he looks proud of, and a challenge he’s readily accepted. ]
Don’t forget you’re wielding a stick.
[ he knows it’s staff by now, but he can’t help goading, in a non-virulent way. ]
[Eleos gives a happy shriek as he tries to fend against the wave. He shoves the end of his staff into the muddy riverbed and holds onto it, holding onto it so he doesn't get washed downstream.]
A staff!
[He knows Erebus knows what it is, but he'll still correct it. And once the water settles from that wave, he is sending his own splash back again- this time with more power added to it with his magic.
His magic has grown stronger since his time out here, ever since Erebus named him. Another sign that for a boy from a race who normally survived best in groups of their own and within their villages, he was defying expectations and thriving out here.]
[ lowering his head and pushing forward, erebus walks toward eleos with his eyes closed and his horns exposed. it’s much too slow for a charge, but he plans to push him back, out of the water for one and a half of them (erebus, believe it or not, has grown larger, at an increased rate that mingled with the boy’s magic). at the very least, eleos should move out of the way, right?
(or not)
he thought he was weaker when he only grew stronger by the day, and erebus— erebus goes after the magic trail like honey.
he felt it on a level that was . . . magnifying in a way, and for the first time in who knows how long, the dragon, bold and terrorizing, feels the happiness as if it were his. ]
[Maybe some time ago, Eleos would've moved out of the ways of the horns. But after enough time spent with Erebus, he can tell that he's moving slow enough not to mean any harm. This was playing.
And so he responds by grabbing onto a horn, and using it to hoist himself up. His wings flap some to help pull him up until he's atop Erebus's head where the skull meets the neck where he sits, straddling to hold on.]
Aha, nice try!
[But man, while Erebus always seemed big from down on the ground, from up here-]
that might be the first time erebus hasn’t reacted negatively to being on him— sure, he allowed him to stay by him at night, but never cuddled up or touching. it has him, with some regard, hoisting himself back and trying to look up.
it’s. sort of weird. but not bad. he can’t quite see him and keeps trying to whip his neck around to get the best angle. ]
I’m supposed to get bigger, [ he still can’t see him, and that seems like his larger focus, and ends up curving his head lower, lower, the rest of his belly finding the ground. ] for years—
[Well, he wasn't being thrown off. That was a good sign. Erebus keeps moving his neck around though, making him have to hold on tight from falling off accidentally. Without really realizing how he knows, he gets what the dragon is trying to do. So when the neck movements slow, he'll climb down his neck carefully until his spot is now at the base of the neck, that spot right before the wings begin.
There he should be able to move his neck to see him now. ]
Is that better?
[He reaches out to pet some of the scales idly]
Yeah, over time. But you've gotten noticeably bigger since we've met, and it hasn't been that long.
[ that’s much better. the way erebus’ neck bends gives him a clear as ever view from below, his head hovering over to be eye-to-eye. the dragon doesn’t need to nod, or speak, but a low roll of drumming comes from his throat.
was it worry, that he couldn’t see him? erebus is briefly reminded of the dream he first had that day, shrouded with misty clouds of forgetfulness. it was loss that he was frightened of then, but enough to act and make sure it would never happen.
erebus blinks slowly, big eyes stuck to eleos and realizing just how pacified his sight leaves him.
it’s— hard not to touch him if he’s sitting in him, so, curiously, erebus ventures closer by snout. ]
Am I feeding off your magic? You’re stronger, too.
[On some level, he understands that throat sound, even if he doesn't examine how. Instead, he looks back in those dragon eyes that stare into him.
It's hard to know if Erebus's eyes have gotten less harsh since they met, or Eleos has just gotten used to the dragon's expressions. He didn't fear those eyes as he once did. Instead, he'll greet that snout by reaching out his hand and petting him there]
Maybe...? Can't say I know anything about the effects of magic on dragons.
[His education about dragons was limited to stories from his village, and what he's learned the past few weeks by experience. Either way, it's pretty limited]
instinct tells him to pull away and there’s something larger saying he can’t, so he hangs there, holding his breath for a few moments and fairly visible that he does (erebus’ breathing is loud to start). with eleos and his hand against him— closing his eyes, he pushes into it.
it’s more than the presence not being there worrying him, it’s his presence as a whole. his heart skips when he feels himself push eleos’ weight onto him, and breathes in after that pause with relief. nothing bad happened, of course, and. well. something good happened instead? but he doesn’t know to what extent it was good. ]
Your casting was inept. [ honesty, from a dragon. ] But you grew it out.
[There was that spark of joy in his chest that kept appearing whenever Erebus allowed him a little closer. When he let him sleep next to him, when he kept his pace to one Eleos to keep up to, and now this. There was something in him that craved being close to this dragon, that found joy in having him accept him.
So the hand stays, petting Erebus's scales with gentle care. At the brutal honesty, Eleos can only softly huff. He's grown used to this]
Having a strong name helps. [He knew that much was true. He could rely on the power of the name for magic, and it gave a lot of strength.] I wonder if I'm strong enough now to heal your...
[Well, there was only one way to find out. He keeps petting Erebus, soothing and soft. His eyes close and he starts to sing. The song is a little different, Erebus's name has been woven into the lyrics - lyrics that show affection and care. But the way he sings it makes it sound like a whole new song. There's confidence in his voice, and much more warmth than he once had. There's a power to it too, that resonates through the notes.
All while he sings, there's a glow around them both. Injuries big and small, are getting healed up with ease compared to before. ]
[ erebus still had his aches and his wing calcified oddly. always on the move, it would always break and break and break a little more, leaving him with dull pains and a mild insecurity to use it to its fullest. he still hasn’t taken to the skies ever since his fall.
the song breaks out, and his closed eyes only open with awe at the mesmerizing tune. it held his name, it game him strength— warmth embedded into his hide as the sheer amount of care put into his words sank into the dragon. it made his heart skip, and his breath hold all over again. it was, perhaps, what he was beginning to feel as hands touched him, amplified.
he breathes in, a shallow breath, and then hot air exhales onto eleos as erebus watches him with growing complexity. it was wonderful. it made his belly tumble, and for a moment he truly wonders if he’s sick. his wing sheds its disability like he would his scales.
it’s when erebus decides to angle his head enough to press his forehead fully against eleos and his body, does he feel a tingle of sadness. it’s so much emotion at once, he doesn’t know which to listen to first. was he happy? was he sick? why did he want to keep feeling sick to his stomach (that’s not sickness nor a stomach ache), and why was he saddened?
fafnir repeats in his head like an old ghost, and with another mental shake, he sends it off. that’s absurd, he’d never do such a thing.
he’d never do this either, and by the time it’s over, erebus has curled his neck and his tail around the source of the song, his head of scales and horns, perhaps the boy’s size or even greater, pressed into him.
his wing is healed, the next village should be close by, and he’s dreading to leave the boy behind. ]
[Eleos too feels a mix of emotions. There's pride that his magic worked, that he's gotten strong enough to heal a dragon- his dragon. Erebus had meant it when his power had gotten stronger. There was also happiness to see Erebus healed, to know that he could heal him if he got hurt. No longer would he have to watch the dragon struggle in pain, helpless to aid him.
But after those waves of positive emotions, came the dawning of realization- the sadness. With Erebus's wing healed, there was nothing stopping him from flying him to the next village. Erebus's injury had been what given them all this time together...and now that was no more.
The small feeling of dread became an avalanche that dropped on his chest and stomach. He...he didn't want to go. As Erebus presses his horn and scales into him, he clings right back to the massive wall of scales, warm to the touch. He didn't want to go back to a life like he had back in the village. Even if he was a human, he couldn't see himself belonging there- not anymore.
He swallows, forcing himself to speak after a long moment. He knows he could get rejected, but...]
You...You said you'd take me wherever I wanted to go, right?
[Back during that first day together, before they gave each other names. The first sign of mercy he had shown him]
[ erebus doesn’t respond beyond a deep stare, his third eyelid sliding across his eyes before the need to blink comes. he watches and feels the similar exchange between them with a gaze of deep thought. conflicting thought. the exhale he gives is troubled enough to expose the scaley expression on his face— worry.
this was the first time he’s allowed himself to give into contact that their bond longed for, and perhaps, at least now, erebus understands why he took so long.
because if this felt like ripping something inside of him, he could only imagine what it would be like leaving him (fafnir echoes in his thoughts again, and this time, he listens to it a little more).
there’s . . . something he could try. there’s something he could try as a test, because he needed to reach out to whatever ancenstral instinct he had to guide him through these processes. a near otherworldly myth, it might not even work. too much magic was needed if it were true, and if it’s only a myth as they say— what a waste of heart it would be.
erebus thinks all this to himself and makes a decision; eleos just wouldn’t be able to know, at least not for now. no false hopes. ]
You have to go.
[ and he had to go quickly, if he wanted to get this in motion. he apologizes, mentally, unsure of how much that would be shared and hopes to the gods that it doesn’t. what he wants least If all is for his own heart to give him away. erebus seems like he’s trying to shake the boy off his snout, so he can turn and rile his wings. it’s been so long since he’s flown.
For a long moment, Eleos had hold out hope. He has saw the expression on Erebus's face, the conflict, the worry. He had saw how Erebus had been thinking things over, even if he couldn't read his thoughts.
But that answer....maybe if Erebus hadn't directly said "no", it still felt like a no. It felt like rejection, harsh and painful. The expression is one of pure hurt, and his body goes limp enough for Erebus to easily pull his snout away. ]
I...
[Where was he supposed to go? Some nearby village that he didn't know? One that he could only hope would accept him and treat him like a person? Just thinking of that felt like a cage. A reality he could've accepted before, but not now after tasting what living was actually like.
Fight to live, he remembers being told. That was the condition. ]
[ you better hold on— their first flight together won’t be the least romantic. beautiful, maybe, and erebus disregards the florest floors to look for an opening big enough for him as he picks up the speed to his bat-like walk. he’ll have to make one.
he’s wobbly with his movements and can’t take off the first time he extends both wings and flaps— from underuse, his left pulls down later that his right. adding his weight, he miscalculated his beats, only getting a few feet off the ground before needing to find his footing. all while running and stepping on trees to give him leverage.
a few more attempts and erebus is more in the air than on the ground, pushing up with harder threshes until he’s got something fluid. he just needs to climb higher to let the wind carry him. to eleos, he doesn’t say anything beyond a draconic cry. from up here, they could see the closest village, reachable in minutes on wings— while does, he thinks about the most inoffensive way to draw the boy’s blood to his teeth.
ah, there is. no inoffensive way to do that, if he’s not telling him. ]
You’re better off.
[ a lie. at least, if he leaves him and fails . . . he can hang around, or move far away. if he loses his tongue, fine. at least he didn’t have the grown time to lose his heart.
either way you looked at it, a dragon was not the right match for a human. he doesn’t want to see this part of it. but it was reality he had to at least acknowledge if he were to go through with this. ]
[ he does hold on, more out of survival instinct than anything else, especially as Erebus struggles to get off the forest floor. And he doesn't find it in him to find the flight beautiful or romantic. He's more distracted by the notion that he's about to get abandoned against his wishes. ]
That's a lie. You're lying! [There's anger among the hurt in his voice. Erebus had just SAID he grown stronger. His yellow feathers ruffle even against the wind]
I don't belong there! They won't treat me any better than the last village! [Worst, he'd imagine. He wasn't the son of any respected villagers in this place. Just a strange demi-human with nowhere else to go. He didn't even want to entertain the idea it might be a nicer village. He wanted to stay out here, with Erebus.
And so, he's going to fight for it. Even if he has to hurt someone he's grown to care about with harsh words]
I thought you liked freedom. Why are you taking away mine?
[ nnnn no, don’t do that to him— he knows he’s doing the wrong thing for the right reason, but how else would he do it?
if erebus weren’t huffing to keep them afloat and ascending, he’d hiss in the way he’d grown to do when he didn’t like something. believe him, this hurts. this hurts and his chest wrenches enough that he almost assures him: I’ll be back for you, but . . . eleos couldn’t know. he couldn’t know now, and there was no reassurance to back him up.
erebus clenches his jaws, lines of teeth like saws grating against each other until he had something fast to say in defense. his stomach rumbling with sickness wasn’t sickness at all. it was a plague between dragon and human and something he’d never be able to have. ]
We can’t keep staying with each other the way we are! That’s not freedom!
[ the truth, as awfully blunt as he could make it without any other context. yes, that might have been how he felt. no, that wasn’t what he was going to accept. he said it and there was no going back now. unless he came back scaleless with legs, as temporary as it was.
he’s shaking him off, to tumble away on his shoulders or lose his handling enough on his spines so it’s easier to turn his neck as he glides— and tries to snatch eleos’ fabric between his teeth. ]
[Maybe by communicating the truth to him like an actual adult, idk Erebus you tell me.
He gets shaken off, but before he can so much scream or fully realize he's fallen, he's shirt is grabbed and he hangs from a dragon mouth. He struggles a little, but there's not a whole lot of resisting he can do here without risking falling to his death.
The explanation hurts, even if it was the truth. Eleos knew he was small and weak, even with his magic. Humans stayed in villages because it was the only way for humans to survive in this harsh world. Banishment from a village meant certain death. Eleos had only defied that fate because of having Erebus by his side...but for how long would that last? How long would it be before there was something Erebus couldn't protect him from something?
He's crying, but he manages to shout out the thought that's been whispering in his subconscious every night]
Then change me! There must be something that can do it!
[ (screaming eren voice) YOU CANT HANDLE THE TRUTH bause he might die and you’ll probably hate him if he did so better make sure he actually comes back alive to spill the beans.
erebus has him there, hanging between his teeth, he’s so close, so close— if he could just cut him, or prick him with the way he sways him, be it with teeth or scales, blood on his teeth was enough, he’d lick it up later. the fabric he holds, though, begins to tear, and there’s no way he could let him fall from such a height.
gliding downwards, but not quite stopping to touch the ground, erebus, despite it all, sets eleos down gently and away from danger, and in walking distance of the village— although far enough to stay out of it if he wished.
the last thing the dragon says to him, with a tone far less harsher than earlier: ]
I need to. [ . . . ] Don’t wait for me.
[ because he doesn’t know if he ever would come back, and if he doesn’t— he still cherished the feeling of weight pressing against the scales of his head. dragons don’t shed tears, but his tongue burns like the fire he breathes the farther away he floats from him, to the point that it extends to his chest. he mourns in silence, to not alarm the village with his cries.
but he doesn’t even roam far, and hopes that when he slides his aching tongue over his teeth and scales— he hopes there’s blood there. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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the fact of the matter was that the boy didn’t have a name either, and silence stretches around them like the chills of a frigid winter. you’d think he had forgotten they were speaking, or ignoring him once more.
but for one, he doesn’t take his eyes off the boy. this goes on until moments seem like cycles, until it felt like if the sun was around, it would’ve hovered halfway across the sky by now. it was enough time for the fish to cook and for him to eat everything to the thin bones, all of that time used to search the meanings that dragonian had taught him. ]
Eleos.
[ compassion. clemency. benevolence. he doesn’t voice its meaning, but it fits like the stick he walks around with. ]
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So the boy returns to tending to his fish. He cooks it to when it looks done and pulls it from the fire. Picking at it and eating what meat he could get. It was a far cry from the meals he'd cook himself back in the village and access to actual cooking supplies, but for a hungry man it was feast enough. He consumes it all without complaint, down until there's nothing but bits of scales and thin bones, which he tosses into the forest to be something else's meal.
He was just trying to figure out his sleeping arrangements when the dragon spoke.
Eleos.
The boy stops in mid-thought. Despite it being so long since they seemingly ended their conversation, he didn't need to ask for context. He knew right away that it was his name. It sinks into him, weaving into his identity so seamlessly. Canary, what the villagers had called him, suddenly seemed like a childish insult than any name. Even the name his mother gave him, it now felt like an endearing childhood nickname. Sweet and a name he'd respond to, but not his real name.]
My name is Eleos.
[He says out loud in an awed tone. It felt so right. So much so that he doesn't realize the oddity - a demi-human going by a name from the language meant only for dragons and gods. Nor does he realize that accepting the name is sealing his own fate, causing that tattoo on his wrist to subtly become more intricate- more permanent.
No, all he could focus on was that he had a name. A true name. All his earlier skepticism had been diminished. He understood what it meant now. The power of such a name.]
Thank you, Erebus.
[Eleos puts his hand to his chest, and there's an unmistakable note of warm gratitude in his voice. ]
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it has a good ring to it. now, with bright eyes glinting into the crackles of fire, the dragon pulls himself back into a resting position, head into wing. they can finally close shut, and in anything, bare less strained facial muscles. a touch of relaxation. ]
Get rest, Eleos. I won’t wait for you.
[ in the morning, they had much to do. he wouldn’t actually be sleeping, but rather light snooze. keeping watch was of extreme importance for both of them. he’s thinking about both of them, wasn’t he?
. . . it’s still strange, but he doesn’t reject it. eleos still had to use his newfound freedom wisely. ]
no subject
O-Oh...Alright.
[He'll stretch out himself before lying down, using his wings to half give him a pillow, and half to keep him warm. He's used to sleeping in bedding, but he's tired enough that he'll be able to sleep on the ground tonight. It's been a long day.]
Goodnight, Erebus.
[The hum of energy that came from the names gave him a thrill that he didn't fully understand. But he was too tired to ponder it, his eyelids drooping down and closing on him almost involuntarily. Within minutes, his breath had slowed enough to show he was truly asleep.
His dreams that night were...unexpected. There was no dreams of the burning village, or the villagers that now gone. Instead he dreamed that he was looking for something on the edges of this valley. Something that'd help him find his freedom. Freedom from humans who enslave him, freedom from this form, freedom to fly with his other...
A door large enough to fit a dragon covered in runes on the side of a mountain, hidden away by the forest growth. That's where he wound up in the dream. Eleos had never seen this place before in his life, and yet somehow he knew it...]
Fafnir...
[He murmurs the name in his sleep as it gets close to dawn. It's possibly a name Erebus would recognize. An old legend about people turning into dragons, or something along those lines. Whatever Erebus's knowledge is of it, Eleos won't remember it when he wakes.]
no subject
fafnir.
things like that are near forbidden to speak of these days, and when erebus catches the word in the air, from a mere human, he snaps his neck and stares.
he’d ask that morning, and wouldn’t have an answer. it would linger as a ludicrous thought, for days, even weeks as they walk. erebus and his wing begin to heal, feeling less pain and weight as the days and weeks pass. they don’t find a village yet, it’s farther away without flight, much farther than they could imagine— but perhaps they’ve found something else.
erebus no longer growls at him, allows him to close distance and even does so himself (no mutual touching yet, though. erebus is a tough cookie). you can say, with ease, that they have become friends. erebus doesn’t leave him alone and always follows where he goes. summer time greets the skies and the trees with bright colors, full of life, and smells of freshness through the forests being reborn.
today, it’s hot enough to keep the dragon tremendously active, and finding a coursing river to cross—
he sits in it instead. rest? rest. dragon down. the water is wonderful, and all he does to express further his desire is whip his tail into the river’s bed, and leaving eleos in the splash zone, without truly meaning to. whoops. ]
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And yet? As time went by, Eleos couldn't bring himself to be bothered how long it was taking. The first few days there'd been moments for sure where he was angry at Erebus, or wanted to be away from the dragon. But over time those moments slowly became less frequent and milder as he grew more used to the dragon's company. He'd find himself moving to the dragon's side more often as they traveled, curling up next to him as he slept at night.
On top of that, Eleos was learning to love the freedom that came with traveling like this. The village had so many rules and restrictions to follow, both for the general village and ones just for him as a demi-human. But out here? All those rules that once seemed so crucial were meaningless and obsolete. The only laws that mattered were the laws of nature, which while some were admittedly harsh, most were made easier when traveling with a dragon.
Between those two things, there was a growing part of Eleos that dreading the day they'd find another village. He wanted to stay out here, in the freedom of the wilds, by Erebus's side.
Today had been a rather hot day. While it made Erebus active, Eleos found himself feeling sluggish as his body sweated to keep cool. He had kneeled down to drink some of river water to keep himself hydrated when
SPLASH
A huge splash of water from Erebus's tail hits him- drenching his entire person with cold water. He's stunned for a moment, needing a second to process just what hit him. But the moment the initial shock wears off? ]
H-Hey!
[He gives a little grin and wades into the cool water, swinging his staff in a spell that causes a big splash right back in retaliation. Yep. We sure are having a water fight.]
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he’s throwing water right back at his enough that he flinches back with slight surprise, enough to protect his eyes with the third lid sliding over them.
if you want retaliation, he will give you retaliation. in which, the dragon lifts himself up and spreads a wing out wide, slapping it against the river’s currents and causing an even greater wave. a wave he looks proud of, and a challenge he’s readily accepted. ]
Don’t forget you’re wielding a stick.
[ he knows it’s staff by now, but he can’t help goading, in a non-virulent way. ]
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A staff!
[He knows Erebus knows what it is, but he'll still correct it. And once the water settles from that wave, he is sending his own splash back again- this time with more power added to it with his magic.
His magic has grown stronger since his time out here, ever since Erebus named him. Another sign that for a boy from a race who normally survived best in groups of their own and within their villages, he was defying expectations and thriving out here.]
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(or not)
he thought he was weaker when he only grew stronger by the day, and erebus— erebus goes after the magic trail like honey.
he felt it on a level that was . . . magnifying in a way, and for the first time in who knows how long, the dragon, bold and terrorizing, feels the happiness as if it were his. ]
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And so he responds by grabbing onto a horn, and using it to hoist himself up. His wings flap some to help pull him up until he's atop Erebus's head where the skull meets the neck where he sits, straddling to hold on.]
Aha, nice try!
[But man, while Erebus always seemed big from down on the ground, from up here-]
Is it just me, or have you grown some?
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he’s on his head.
that might be the first time erebus hasn’t reacted negatively to being on him— sure, he allowed him to stay by him at night, but never cuddled up or touching. it has him, with some regard, hoisting himself back and trying to look up.
it’s. sort of weird. but not bad. he can’t quite see him and keeps trying to whip his neck around to get the best angle. ]
I’m supposed to get bigger, [ he still can’t see him, and that seems like his larger focus, and ends up curving his head lower, lower, the rest of his belly finding the ground. ] for years—
[ he’s restless, boy, but not rejecting. ]
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There he should be able to move his neck to see him now. ]
Is that better?
[He reaches out to pet some of the scales idly]
Yeah, over time. But you've gotten noticeably bigger since we've met, and it hasn't been that long.
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was it worry, that he couldn’t see him? erebus is briefly reminded of the dream he first had that day, shrouded with misty clouds of forgetfulness. it was loss that he was frightened of then, but enough to act and make sure it would never happen.
erebus blinks slowly, big eyes stuck to eleos and realizing just how pacified his sight leaves him.
it’s— hard not to touch him if he’s sitting in him, so, curiously, erebus ventures closer by snout. ]
Am I feeding off your magic? You’re stronger, too.
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It's hard to know if Erebus's eyes have gotten less harsh since they met, or Eleos has just gotten used to the dragon's expressions. He didn't fear those eyes as he once did. Instead, he'll greet that snout by reaching out his hand and petting him there]
Maybe...? Can't say I know anything about the effects of magic on dragons.
[His education about dragons was limited to stories from his village, and what he's learned the past few weeks by experience. Either way, it's pretty limited]
Do you really think I have? Gotten stronger?
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freezes.
instinct tells him to pull away and there’s something larger saying he can’t, so he hangs there, holding his breath for a few moments and fairly visible that he does (erebus’ breathing is loud to start). with eleos and his hand against him— closing his eyes, he pushes into it.
it’s more than the presence not being there worrying him, it’s his presence as a whole. his heart skips when he feels himself push eleos’ weight onto him, and breathes in after that pause with relief. nothing bad happened, of course, and. well. something good happened instead? but he doesn’t know to what extent it was good. ]
Your casting was inept. [ honesty, from a dragon. ] But you grew it out.
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So the hand stays, petting Erebus's scales with gentle care. At the brutal honesty, Eleos can only softly huff. He's grown used to this]
Having a strong name helps. [He knew that much was true. He could rely on the power of the name for magic, and it gave a lot of strength.] I wonder if I'm strong enough now to heal your...
[Well, there was only one way to find out. He keeps petting Erebus, soothing and soft. His eyes close and he starts to sing. The song is a little different, Erebus's name has been woven into the lyrics - lyrics that show affection and care. But the way he sings it makes it sound like a whole new song. There's confidence in his voice, and much more warmth than he once had. There's a power to it too, that resonates through the notes.
All while he sings, there's a glow around them both. Injuries big and small, are getting healed up with ease compared to before. ]
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the song breaks out, and his closed eyes only open with awe at the mesmerizing tune. it held his name, it game him strength— warmth embedded into his hide as the sheer amount of care put into his words sank into the dragon. it made his heart skip, and his breath hold all over again. it was, perhaps, what he was beginning to feel as hands touched him, amplified.
he breathes in, a shallow breath, and then hot air exhales onto eleos as erebus watches him with growing complexity. it was wonderful. it made his belly tumble, and for a moment he truly wonders if he’s sick. his wing sheds its disability like he would his scales.
it’s when erebus decides to angle his head enough to press his forehead fully against eleos and his body, does he feel a tingle of sadness. it’s so much emotion at once, he doesn’t know which to listen to first. was he happy? was he sick? why did he want to keep feeling sick to his stomach (that’s not sickness nor a stomach ache), and why was he saddened?
fafnir repeats in his head like an old ghost, and with another mental shake, he sends it off. that’s absurd, he’d never do such a thing.
he’d never do this either, and by the time it’s over, erebus has curled his neck and his tail around the source of the song, his head of scales and horns, perhaps the boy’s size or even greater, pressed into him.
his wing is healed, the next village should be close by, and he’s dreading to leave the boy behind. ]
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But after those waves of positive emotions, came the dawning of realization- the sadness. With Erebus's wing healed, there was nothing stopping him from flying him to the next village. Erebus's injury had been what given them all this time together...and now that was no more.
The small feeling of dread became an avalanche that dropped on his chest and stomach. He...he didn't want to go. As Erebus presses his horn and scales into him, he clings right back to the massive wall of scales, warm to the touch. He didn't want to go back to a life like he had back in the village. Even if he was a human, he couldn't see himself belonging there- not anymore.
He swallows, forcing himself to speak after a long moment. He knows he could get rejected, but...]
You...You said you'd take me wherever I wanted to go, right?
[Back during that first day together, before they gave each other names. The first sign of mercy he had shown him]
T-Take me where I can stay with you.
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this was the first time he’s allowed himself to give into contact that their bond longed for, and perhaps, at least now, erebus understands why he took so long.
because if this felt like ripping something inside of him, he could only imagine what it would be like leaving him (fafnir echoes in his thoughts again, and this time, he listens to it a little more).
there’s . . . something he could try. there’s something he could try as a test, because he needed to reach out to whatever ancenstral instinct he had to guide him through these processes. a near otherworldly myth, it might not even work. too much magic was needed if it were true, and if it’s only a myth as they say— what a waste of heart it would be.
erebus thinks all this to himself and makes a decision; eleos just wouldn’t be able to know, at least not for now. no false hopes. ]
You have to go.
[ and he had to go quickly, if he wanted to get this in motion. he apologizes, mentally, unsure of how much that would be shared and hopes to the gods that it doesn’t. what he wants least If all is for his own heart to give him away. erebus seems like he’s trying to shake the boy off his snout, so he can turn and rile his wings. it’s been so long since he’s flown.
just remember: he never said “no”. ]
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For a long moment, Eleos had hold out hope. He has saw the expression on Erebus's face, the conflict, the worry. He had saw how Erebus had been thinking things over, even if he couldn't read his thoughts.
But that answer....maybe if Erebus hadn't directly said "no", it still felt like a no. It felt like rejection, harsh and painful. The expression is one of pure hurt, and his body goes limp enough for Erebus to easily pull his snout away. ]
I...
[Where was he supposed to go? Some nearby village that he didn't know? One that he could only hope would accept him and treat him like a person? Just thinking of that felt like a cage. A reality he could've accepted before, but not now after tasting what living was actually like.
Fight to live, he remembers being told. That was the condition. ]
W-Why? Why do I have to go?
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he’s wobbly with his movements and can’t take off the first time he extends both wings and flaps— from underuse, his left pulls down later that his right. adding his weight, he miscalculated his beats, only getting a few feet off the ground before needing to find his footing. all while running and stepping on trees to give him leverage.
a few more attempts and erebus is more in the air than on the ground, pushing up with harder threshes until he’s got something fluid. he just needs to climb higher to let the wind carry him. to eleos, he doesn’t say anything beyond a draconic cry. from up here, they could see the closest village, reachable in minutes on wings— while does, he thinks about the most inoffensive way to draw the boy’s blood to his teeth.
ah, there is. no inoffensive way to do that, if he’s not telling him. ]
You’re better off.
[ a lie. at least, if he leaves him and fails . . . he can hang around, or move far away. if he loses his tongue, fine. at least he didn’t have the grown time to lose his heart.
either way you looked at it, a dragon was not the right match for a human. he doesn’t want to see this part of it. but it was reality he had to at least acknowledge if he were to go through with this. ]
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That's a lie. You're lying! [There's anger among the hurt in his voice. Erebus had just SAID he grown stronger. His yellow feathers ruffle even against the wind]
I don't belong there! They won't treat me any better than the last village! [Worst, he'd imagine. He wasn't the son of any respected villagers in this place. Just a strange demi-human with nowhere else to go. He didn't even want to entertain the idea it might be a nicer village. He wanted to stay out here, with Erebus.
And so, he's going to fight for it. Even if he has to hurt someone he's grown to care about with harsh words]
I thought you liked freedom. Why are you taking away mine?
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if erebus weren’t huffing to keep them afloat and ascending, he’d hiss in the way he’d grown to do when he didn’t like something. believe him, this hurts. this hurts and his chest wrenches enough that he almost assures him: I’ll be back for you, but . . . eleos couldn’t know. he couldn’t know now, and there was no reassurance to back him up.
erebus clenches his jaws, lines of teeth like saws grating against each other until he had something fast to say in defense. his stomach rumbling with sickness wasn’t sickness at all. it was a plague between dragon and human and something he’d never be able to have. ]
We can’t keep staying with each other the way we are! That’s not freedom!
[ the truth, as awfully blunt as he could make it without any other context. yes, that might have been how he felt. no, that wasn’t what he was going to accept. he said it and there was no going back now. unless he came back scaleless with legs, as temporary as it was.
he’s shaking him off, to tumble away on his shoulders or lose his handling enough on his spines so it’s easier to turn his neck as he glides— and tries to snatch eleos’ fabric between his teeth. ]
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He gets shaken off, but before he can so much scream or fully realize he's fallen, he's shirt is grabbed and he hangs from a dragon mouth. He struggles a little, but there's not a whole lot of resisting he can do here without risking falling to his death.
The explanation hurts, even if it was the truth. Eleos knew he was small and weak, even with his magic. Humans stayed in villages because it was the only way for humans to survive in this harsh world. Banishment from a village meant certain death. Eleos had only defied that fate because of having Erebus by his side...but for how long would that last? How long would it be before there was something Erebus couldn't protect him from something?
He's crying, but he manages to shout out the thought that's been whispering in his subconscious every night]
Then change me! There must be something that can do it!
But please...please don't let me there!
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erebus has him there, hanging between his teeth, he’s so close, so close— if he could just cut him, or prick him with the way he sways him, be it with teeth or scales, blood on his teeth was enough, he’d lick it up later. the fabric he holds, though, begins to tear, and there’s no way he could let him fall from such a height.
gliding downwards, but not quite stopping to touch the ground, erebus, despite it all, sets eleos down gently and away from danger, and in walking distance of the village— although far enough to stay out of it if he wished.
the last thing the dragon says to him, with a tone far less harsher than earlier: ]
I need to. [ . . . ] Don’t wait for me.
[ because he doesn’t know if he ever would come back, and if he doesn’t— he still cherished the feeling of weight pressing against the scales of his head. dragons don’t shed tears, but his tongue burns like the fire he breathes the farther away he floats from him, to the point that it extends to his chest. he mourns in silence, to not alarm the village with his cries.
but he doesn’t even roam far, and hopes that when he slides his aching tongue over his teeth and scales— he hopes there’s blood there. ]
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