Üā Sūt Cktüis (How to be Dragon)

by Rammy

Chapter 25 Cktrātu Cītha (A Battle of Wits)

Hold thy tongue with a dragon for flattery is the tool of the thief. ~ Ancient Dragon Proverb

---

Šizra muttered as he attempted ascertain exactly where they were from the ley lines. He felt a bit of pity as he looked over to Thorax who was lying halfway in the pool of cool water where they had stopped to rest at, half asleep. They had been forced to slowly traversing the jungle on hoof for most of the past ten days as the heat and humidity had not been kind to the young royal changeling. Clearly the changeling had become accustomed to his hive's much cooler climate.

Not that he himself was much better, his own strength quick to wane. His recovery from the events in the Crystal Empire and before were proving to be agonizingly slow. It could be very possible that this was going to be his new normal. But, at least, to his relief, if he was feeling the ley lines right, they were finally getting close to Lord Spinster's hive.

Walking over the the changeling Šizra gently nudged the changeling's shoulder. "Wake up." Thorax, although he grumbled under his breath, thankfully did not need anymore encouragement as he slowly getting onto his hooves. "We are close to Lord Spinster's hive. And if I am correct, we may very well arrive while we still have sun."

"Finally..." Thorax breathed out as he stiffly walked behind Šizra.

Šizra ignored the comment and was about to step back into the treeline when he noticed that the jungle had gone quiet, too quiet. There was many dangers in the jungle and it was not unheard of for silence to be the only warning before it struck. However, given the proximity to the hive, he had a feeling that the silence was not due to danger... at least not towards them. His suspicion was confirmed only a moment later when he could just barely made out a slight rustle and the touch of air passing by before the sound of Thorax's heavy breathing disappeared. With a smirk, and without looking back, Šizra stepped into the darkness of the trees, softly singing as he did.

Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo
Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo...

Šizra singing quickly faded into humming as he carefully ducked under a downed tree. His humming than faded to silence as he came to a stop. He could sense something or someone watching him from above. Interesting... When Thorax was taken Lord Spinster's changelings had left as fast as they had arrived. This one, who ever it was, was merely watching...

"Do you take me for a fool Stormcrow?" A gruff and angry voice spoke as six yellow glowing eyes appeared in the darkness.

Fool? Stormcrow? Šizra stumbled back a step, stunned as he felt waves venomous hatred pounding into him. Why would Lord Spinster call him by that epithet? Why such hatred!? Lord Spinster, along with his hive, had always been cordial with him going all the way back to the time of Lady Araneae. In a small way, he could almost consider those of the hive a friend... So while he had expected some mild annoyance, maybe some exasperation for his stunt in the Sanctum, he had not expected this.

"So, you can be caught unaware..." Lord Spinster mused, his glowing eyes tilting from one side to the other. "Let see if you can also be defeated."

A glint, thanks to a small shaft of light that managed to pass through the canopy, was all the warning Šizra got. With thought and a quick flick of his paw he summoned Leafcutter, barely managing to block the wad of changeling web that was shot at him. Šizra tensed and shifted into a defensive stance as Lord Spinster's eyes faded back into the darkness. He could hear the changeling skittering about in the trees but as the changeling was making sure to stay away from any shafts of light. This left him, once again, with next to no warning when another volley of changeling web flew at him. He had not a second to breathe before Lord Spinster sent two more attacks, one right after the other.

He hissed in pain as he stumbled, tripping over something in the darkness as he jumped away from the final attack. Reaching out with a bit of mana and he nearly swore, he had unknowingly stumbled into a thread of sharpened web. And worse, as far as he dared to sense, was even more sharpened changeling web. Sharpened changeling web, especially if charged with mana, had the potential to cut through dragon scale like butter and with the amount of that he sensed he could find himself at high risk from death of a thousand cuts.

Now Šizra could cut any web away with Leafcutter, but the sword was already becoming heavy his grip. Not helping was he couldn't dip into his lifeforce like before as he did not have enough left nor could he use a heartsong as that would only strengthen his changeling attacker. He needed to find a way to get on the offense and end the fight quickly before his strength fully gave out. But how? His opponent had all the advantages: better mobility, high ground, 'sight'...

Sight...

Šizra really did not like that he had to resort to what he was about to do, but he was out of options. Careful to not let his emotions tip off Lord Spinster, the longma sent Leafcutter out in a series of wide arcs. To anyone not in the know it would look like he was swinging Leafcutter wildly about to clear the area of web but in actuality it was a cover for him to carve the rune for light onto the jungle floor. He had to dodge a counter attack but was quickly able to finish the rune. Hopefully it would stun the changeling and allow him the opening he needed to end the fight. Masking his next movements as another dodge he stepped on the rune he created closing his eyes while also sending a pulse of mana to activate the rune.

Šizra bit back a grunt of pain as a brilliant, burning flash of pure light exploded outward flooding the entire area in light that pierce through his closed eyes as if he had not even closed them. His ears swiveled at a sound a hiss of surprise and pain that was followed by a loud thud as something large fell onto the ground nearby. Quickly moving towards the sound, he found on the ground, only a few hooves away, what would look like to most, a large spider in a crumbled heap, legs twitching. Thankfully, unlike the changeling, Šizra had anticipated the light so he was able to recover much faster. He swiftly brought Leafcutter down upon Lord Spinster's neck pressing nearly hard enough to cause bleeding.

"Yield." He growled through heavy breaths hoping that Lord Spinster would not notice how weak he truly was.

"I may die..." Lord Spinster hiss in defiance, "but my hive will survive. You... on the other hand..."

Šizra's ears twitched as the sound of rustling returned. When he looked around he saw at least thirty changelings surrounding him, every single one with a crossbow primed with glowing pale yellow manabolt. He closed his eyes and dropped Leafcutter, desummoning it, beaten.

---

...

... ...

"Wake up."

Šizra groaned as he painfully opened his eyes. His mouth tasted of ozone and copper and his whole body ached like he had belly flopped into lava from a great height a few dozen times. But when he tried to move his leg to relief the ache, he found he was unable. Looking down, he saw that his right front paw was chained to the floor by an adamantine shackle. When he looked to his other legs, to his surprise, he could see that they were instead glued to the floor with changeling resin that glowed a pale yellow. Moving his gaze to up and out he could just make out in the corner of his eyes two glowing threads coming down towards him from the ceiling, judging from the way the web strands moved they were most likely attached to his horns. Finally, he could feel something heavy weighing down his wings preventing him from extending them out from his body. Although he was unable to move his head enough to see for sure, he was sure that his wings were being held down by glowing changeling resin.

This again... He groaned as he noted that his was the second time in ten years that he had been caught and imprisoned. At least this time his 'cage' had no runes... he hoped. I still need to find out how Celestia learned of the contain rune... Looking past his restraints to the room at large he could see the tops of a jungle canopy past large archways that ran the entire length of one side of the room. If he was not mistaken, he was in the loggia that served as Lord Spinster' throne room, an odd place for an interrogation.

Speaking of Lord Spinster, the elderly royal changeling was a short distance away slowing lowering himself down from the ceiling via a single web strand, all the while eyeing him like a piece of meat in a butcher's shop. Šizra carefully steeled himself for what he knew was soon to come. This was not going to be like it was with Celestia. Not only did Lord Spinster know him far better than the pony princess but as Lord Spinster was an emotivore he could not only detect false emotions but would be able to far easier for him to find the right emotional buttons to push to get the reaction that the changeling wanted.

"There is something off about you." Once again, Šizra found himself on the back hoof with Lord Spinster as that was not even remotely any of the openings Šizra had expected. "Every mind has a certain feel to it. Yours always had this strange dissonance, a layering to it, almost as if you had two competing minds."

Šizra managed to keep his shock under wraps but a bit of grief still slipped out before he could stop it. He had told no one except Harlothisüa Lruthithieüs about Vorac and the artificial dragon soul had been so deeply bound within his soul that the only time he could sense him(much less hear him) without diving into the plane of his soul was in moments of extreme distress or detachment like during deep meditation or sleep. So how, by the Voice, was Lord Spinster able to sense Vorac?! There was no other explanation for the changeling's observation.

Šizra kept his expression and emotion as neutral as he could as Lord Spinster started to circle around him. It annoyed him slightly that, just like with the fight in the jungle, he was starting off the 'interrogation' on the defensive. What other things did the changeling know about him? How many metaphorical sharpened webs would he find himself being driven into?

Lord Spinster stopped circling his main, unblinded eye narrowed as he leaned in, close enough that Šizra could detect a faint amount of fear pheromone. The longma noted that he could work with that but he needed an opening. The changeling eyed Šizra a bit more before backing away. From the gleam in his eyes Šizra knew that Lord Spinster was about to make his next move.

"I am in the twilight of my years... far past my fighting prime..." Lord Spinster sighed as he lifted up and gazed at one of his legs, cracked and dull with age. "It will not be long before I become one with the Eternal Hive and a new Hive Leader ascends..."

Šizra kept silent, wondering where Lord Spinster was going with this as he knew that he knew this. The upper life expectancy of a royal changeling was about fifteen hundred years, and by his recollection, Lord Spinster had to be nearly thirteen hundred.

"Does your protégé know that you are training him to be your replacement?" Šizra snorted. It seemed that his former protégé wasn't the only one to make this mistake. He would not put a dragon's very existence in jeopardy to train them in the Staizāt tho CktüisSirts merely because his health was declining.

That snort, apparently, seemed to disgust the changeling as he stomped up to the longma hissing, his fangs clicking from the force of his anger. "You think your so clever but I can see, I can feel, I know."

It took everything Šizra got to not smugly retort. Oh, do you?

"A changeling who doesn't listen to the jungle's warnings by either dismissing them as superstitious nonsense or as mere trivial annoyances and not take them seriously will soon be a dead changeling. And the cowards always take others down with them. Good riddance to such weak filth! I will not and can not tolerate such weakness in my hive..."

"You want to die and don't try and hide it from me, Stormcrow!" Lord Spinster accused. Šizra kept his expression neutral, fully aware that his indignation over the accusation could be easily read by the emotivore. "You may be the master of many forms of magic including emotical, but I, I was born a hunter of emotions."

Šizra couldn't help but to chuckle. So you think you're clever little royal changeling? He darkly mused as now had the opening he needed. He could see from the souring of Lord Spinster's expression his reaction was not the one the changeling had expected.

"Do you know why changelings instinctually keep their distance from dragons?" Šizra asked as he tilted his head to side and up as if he was trying to recall only to quickly snap his gaze to Lord Spinster who flinched as their eyes met. He knew full well that Lord Spinster didn't know, no changeling fully knew. It was knowledge that had been lost due to the cataclysm and he never felt the need to give the full reason.

"Dragons, out of every sentient creature, have the most passionate of natures and thus the strongest of emotions. A carefully harvested mated pair could keep a small hive fed and empowered indefinitely. If anything, dragons should be irresistible. So, I ask again, o 'hunter of emotions,' why do changelings instinctually keep their distance from dragons?"

Lord Spinster frowned but said nothing, leaving Šizra open to press his advantage further. "Did you know that draconian magic, contrary over every other known type, including changeling, is born out their emotions not their will?"

That got a reaction from the changeling who smacked his lips before slowly shaking his head in a silent no.

"Now, I seemed to recall a saying, a saying that goes 'If you see a changeling at a funeral, better dig another hole.'" Šizra watched as the changeling started to tremble. He didn't blame the changeling for the reaction, death by grief was a horrible way for a changeling to die. But he was not finished, "So tell me clever changeling..." He paused, a small, smuggish smile forming, "Can you guess what is the number one killer of dragons is?"

The trembling changeling now quaked, fear pheromones becoming so thick in the air that Šizra could taste it. So, you are quicker on the uptake... He let his smile widen to the fullest, allowing every one of his sharp teeth to be on full display. The changeling's legs collapsed under him as he took a single step back. The longma waited a moment longer, just to let the horror really sink in, before leaning towards the fearful changeling and softly whispering, "Go on..."

"...You know the word..."

Lord Spinster gulped hard, trying to speak several times. In the end he was only able to mouth a single word which Šizra verbally voiced. "Grief."

"The truth is, young one," Šizra said as he turned to gaze out into the jungle unable to watch the suffering changeling any longer. The view was not unlike that at the peak of the Glittering Isles, all that was missing was sight and the faint smell of the sea... "While I have never actively sought it, I have been yearning for death for twenty... thousand...years... "

Sire...

Mother...

Father...

Lāckta...

Vorac...

Šizra closed his eyes, struggling to shallow the waves of grief of the loss of those he loved and cherished above all as to not hurt Lord Spinster and his hive. It was times like this that he found himself, if only for a moment, hating his dual nature. "But every time I have been on the edge of death, the whispers of The Voice audible in my ear, I get pulled back... First by Index and then by Harlothisüa Lruthithieüs..."

A bit of bittersweet happiness broke through his grief as he recalled the actions of Index and Harlothisüa Lruthithieüs in pulling him from the release into death. Even though he was still not happy about the loss of Lady Araneae's healing pod, thanks to Index he got to see the return of The Voice and to mentor the young dragon that was now his friend. And although Harlothisüa Lruthithieüs could never fully sooth the loss of Vorac he would forever treasure his role in completing the adoption he so longed for.

Šizra was so busy keeping himself emotionally subdued that he barely noticed Lord Spinster walking up to him, chittering as he removed his restraints one by one. His mood soured further as he caught the changeling uttering, "By the Enteral Hive, you could have killed me and my hive at any moment."

Šizra slowly let out a long breath before he admitted with a voice so soft to almost be inaudible. "Yes..."

Lord Spinster hissed a few choice curses before turning away and walking over to one of the windows. The changeling stared out into the jungle for a moment before he finally spoke, "Stormcrow..." Šizra slowly growled, not even bothering to control his thoughts on the insulting title. He could understand the use of the title during the farce that was his interrogation but the interrogation was over. Lord Spinster sighed deeply, bowing his head before speaking again. "Hermit Sage..."

"The mana drain... your sudden decline in health... a protégé... your outburst..."

"I knew you would be evasive in giving me answers... but I had to know... for the sake of my hive... I needed to know."

The changeling sighed then turned back to face Šizra. "Others may use Stormcrow in a derogatory fashion but I don't see a stormcrow as many fools do. 'Ill news is an ill guest.' Bah!" He spat. "You are the watchcreature on the wall ever watching and ever quick to shout warnings whenever you see dangers approaching. When you speak, I listen with silent thanks, for by your warnings my hive lives to see another day unlike the unaware thankless deaf fools that perish. More than ever, I find no need for the hidden knowledge of a hermit sage, I need the warning cries of a stormcrow..."

Šizra blinked, his mouth gaping as he found himself completely stunned at Lord Spinster's words. Very few ever saw him in that light, fewer still to be thankful for it? The words the royal changeling spoke set his soul aflame sending his emotions into a frenzy as a soul deep compulsion to jealously protect what was his enveloped him. The hoarding instinct had always been somewhat muted because of the nature of his soul and the ward that kept him and Vorac separated, but, now, for the first time, he truly understood what hoarding meant for a dragon. Whether Lord Spinster knew it or not what the changeling had said triggered his hoarding instincts even more then Lady Araneae had done all those years before. Never again would he be known as the Hermit Sage to Lord Spinster and his hive.

"Hermit Sage?"

"Never call me Hermit Sage again." Šizra growled out as a bit of flame bubbled up from his throat. How dare his hoard... He thought before he snapped out of his indignation. Blinking as he processed another stronger than before instinct, he softly added. "It is as you said, laths tārzuls, my treasure, you need a Stormcrow not a Hermit Sage."

Šizra felt a pleasant shiver go down his spine as his addressed his hoard in the words of Ancient Draconian. He then smirked in amusement as Lord Spinster stiffened, his eyes glassing over, glowing strongly from an overload of emotion. He was about to push down his emotion as to not poison the changeling when he noticed a dark blue shimmering along Lord Spinster's chitin. That was strange, because he knew that Lord Spinster's magic was yellow just like his eyes.

Šizra's jaw than dropped in disbelief as Lord Spinster's two blinded eyes suddenly slammed open a bright dark blue light pouring out before faded down to yellow. Then the changeling's second right front leg, which was a mere jagged stump shook violently before the stretching out, the end smoothing. Finally cracks along the changeling's chitin started to close and its color, which had dulled in places from age to a dusty light brown, brighten before darkening to a deep rich reddish brown. With that, the blue shimmer faded away.

Šizra mind struggled to process what he had just seen. In a matter of moments, Lord Spinster had not only been de-aged a good six hundred years or more, but his second right front leg and his two blinded eyes had been restored. This was an impossibility, not even Lady Araneae, the greatest changeling healer to ever live, could, outside of her now destroyed healing pod, do what he had just witnessed. That was why neither Thorax nor Lord Spinster had healed their blinded eyes or regrown antler nor leg respectively.

The only clue he had was the dark blue shimmering that preceded the healing. Could it be?! Šizra wondered in disbelief as he realized the color was incidentally same color as his flame. Draconian magic?! Had he managed to cast draconian magic?!

Author's Note:

Ugh this one took longer then I thought. I ended up cutting somewhere between 1-2k of exposition/worldbuilding as it messed with the pacing... so much worldbuilding lost...

Comments

[Dinojo]

It is actually impossible for dragons to revolt against the dragonlord because the bloodstone scepter overrides there freewill ember could order one of her subjects to stop breathing and they would suffocate

[Rammy]

11859139 ???

[Booster Spice]

Worldbuilding is not lost as long as the records maybe recovered by others at a later time?

[Rammy]

11859863
technically 'true'... some of it will still probably make its way into the story proper... some can be brought forth from comments wink wink wink