Short Story 3: Langlicia and Zyphara

[ This story takes place shortly after the party's return from "Roc Island." ]

As daybreak came, Zyphara retreated into the lower decks of the Ultros into a cargo area at the stern that she had adopted for herself as a makeshift lair.  Although she began her life as a copper dragon, extensive exposure to the Shadowfell realm had corrupted her body and mind, transforming her from a relatively benign creature of caustic liquids and gases into a terrifying harbinger of darkness and death, and making her much stronger in darkness but weakened by sunlight.

Langlicia accompanied her down below decks, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration as a result of the day's events.

"Phara, Darling, you were absolutely brilliant out there today." Langlicia said with a bright smile.  "I could not be more proud of you, and what we were able to accomplish together.  We defended the Ultros with no lives lost, and even retrieved our dear captain from being lost at sea."

Zyphara responded with her usual hissing sound that formed an undertone to her normal speaking voice, following with a simple "Thanks."  It was her habit to be extremely terse when speaking, especially in the light, as if speaking in the light was mildly painful for her (even though it really wasn't) and often falling back on simple one-word answers.  In truth, she had spent most of her life alone and developed a strongly introverted personality.  "Was . . . fun." she added.

"That, my friend, is the understatement of all understatements." Lang responded, almost laughing.  "I had no idea how freeing and how very normal and natural that soaring through the heavens with you would feel.  The speed you possess is positively exhilarating!"  She looked up at the ceiling, as if staring right through it into the sky above and added, "I dare say that in a thousand years I shall never tire of it."

"Speed . . . good.  Faster . . . with you."  Zyphara began to open up more as she was better able to relax in the darkness of the room.  "Voices . . . distract, . . . but . . . also hear . . . your voice now."  Her mouth almost curled up into a smile as she turned to look directly at Langlicia.  "Calm.  Comforting.  Better.  Can focus.  Can fly unchained." She let out an almost cackling laugh.  "Yes . . . fun."

"It makes me very happy to know that.  This ability that I have to speak directly into the mind does have its limits, but I promise you that each and every time I use it you will be the first one with whom I make that connection.  So long as we are no more than a two-minute flight apart from each other, I'll be able hear you and reach you."  She let out a short sigh.  "I'm truly grateful that my presence at your side is helping you."

"Am grateful . . . more."  Zyphara paused to gently rub the side of her face against Langlicia's arm.  "Bond-spell was . . . prudent . . . shrewd . . . wise."  Zyphara continued to nod her head slowly, partly in positive acknowledgement but mostly just to maintain the gentle physical touch.  "Voices . . . quieted.  Your voice . . . strong . . . strongest."

Langlicia nodded her own head in response.  "It appears that we can indeed be of great service to each other going forward.  But it also means there are a few practical things we should discuss, decisions I do not want to make unilaterally without your agreement."

"Such as . . . ?"

"Well one practical thing is safety.  I could sense, when we were flying, that you were holding back somewhat on my account, and I'd like for you not to have to do that.  I'd like, with your permission, to construct a sort of saddle that can allow me to stay on your back easily during your wildest maneuvers . . . perhaps without even having to hold on at all.  With something like that in place, I believe you and I can achieve velocities that the fastest flying creatures in existence cannot surpass.  Plus, I think we can greatly simplify certain, . . . shall we say, . . . tactics . . . that I have in mind for when we fly together again."

"Faster . . . ?  Do it."  Zephara's hissing undertone was even stronger as she said this, which Langlicia had learned was a sign that her dragon friend was excited.

Langlicia smiled, fully expecting that answer.  "I'll make the arrangements, then.  Second, if we're going to be working together, I'll need to read you on to a great deal of my sources and methods, and for that, you'll need a code name.  My code name is 'Meade', and I'd like to assign the name 'Noir' to you.  It's the word for 'darkness' in Sylvan.  Does that work for you?"

Zyphara cocked her head to one side.  "No-ore . . .  new-hour . . . nor-are."  She let out a gruff exhale, then shook her head.  "Too hard . . . to say."

"Well then," Langlicia responded, "perhaps something simpler then.  How about 'Shade'?  It is admittedly a bit on-the-nose, but otherwise eminently fitting."

"Shade . . . ." the dragon repeated back, and bared her teeth in a smile.  "Better."

"Then 'Shade' it is.  Very good."  Her face became more serious as she continued.  "Now then, if I'm to read you on to my secrets, there is also a matter of trust that we must ensure continues, especially since we are bonded together now for what could be a very long time."

"So . . . ?"

"I'd like a to make a promise to you, the kind that is sacred and binding, and I'd further like that we make this promise to each other, as partners.

"You propose . . . marriage . . . ?" Zyphara asked with what passed for a smirk on her face, and began to giggle.

Langlicia joined in with the giggling for a moment.  "No.  That is not what I meant.  Besides, I alr--" Langlicia stopped mid-word, suddenly unable to remember what she was trying to say just then.  She shook off the confusion and continued.  "Ah . . . what I mean is: lies, deception, and secrets are my stock-in-trade, but with you, things are different.  I cannot give up those things, even with respect to you, but I would like to make you this promise."

Langlicia stopped speaking normally and switched to whispering directly into Zyphara's mind using her psionic abilities, while looking her directly in the eyes.  "Whenever I communicate with you in this way, the words you hear are for you alone, and I promise to you that those words will never be false.  I want you to be able to trust me, with your life if necessary, as I will be putting the same level of trust in you."

Then, out loud, she added, "Now what we say for all to hear . . . that's fair game."  In psionic whisper she continued, "If you're ever unsure, just touch my mind and ask.  I will always answer truthfully.  This is the promise we must make to each other: to always be honest with each other, and to keep each other's secrets in confidence.  I will make this oath to you now.  Will you make this same oath to me, in return?"

Zyphara stared at her for a long minute, taking time to consider what she'd just heard.  Finally, she responded directly to Langlicia's mind.  "Zyphara has . . . no secrets . . . no need . . . to lie to you, . . . no desire . . . to betray you.  These . . . things . . . are easy, . . . trivial.  But, . . . your voice . . . is now . . . something precious . . . very precious.  Zyphara will never betray Langlicia.  Zyphara will always protect Langlicia and her precious voice.  THAT . . . is Zyphara's vow."

And in that moment, two new Thylean oaths were sworn, though the world would never find out if the Furies ever actually knew about those oaths or not, sworn in secret, as they were, and in a way that no other being in the universe could ever overhear.

But then . . . that was never the point.