Strength in Separation Part 1

Willard Tapporwhill had always loved the constructed beauty of the city, and the Uryting Empire had so many to behold, a panoply of sights and sounds in each one. Kolottz was probably one of his favorites, filled to the brim with charm from a bygone age. Built as a tribute to the history of the now-vanished Koloztian people, the cityscape provided insight into their ancient culture. But as he walked the streets, the noble-born young man didn't notice any of it. My parents would probably disown me if they saw me like this. The Tapporwhill family was known empire-wide, so Willard had donned a simple, though still attractive frock coat and a pair of slacks to avoid detection. Each step towards his intended goal introduced new doubts and pains into his mind, and continuing down the street was an exercise in resolve. Long-fingered, walnut-colored hands ran nervously through a combed mane of dark-red hair, wiping away sweat and ensuring he looked as put-together as possible. Forcing himself to smile, he thought, Remember, you're the charming one. With a single word, you could be practically swimming in girls. She's just another girl, that's all. Untrue, and Will knew it, but if he didn't lie to himself, he'd never be able to continue. It was highly irregular for the suave young noble to be so ill at ease, but just down the street waited a piece of his past, which had fallen from his grasp, and Will wanted another chance.

Her name was Aisllae, a draconic word that meant little treasure, which Will thought fit the girl perfectly. She'd been his for only two weeks, but he'd been all in after the first hour spent in her company. 

He'd had several opportunities to approach, try and reconnect, but his nerves kept him at bay each time. What do you say to a girl you haven't seen in a decade? Not so tricky a question until you remember that the last thing that happened before your separation is that your family performed heinous experiments on them!

Will supposed he'd better get his thoughts and words straight since Aisllae and her friends were right around the bend. Pressing himself against a building, the young noble took a long breather to observe. There were four of them in sight. Lijaha, the towering, thickset half-dragon, stared at his hands, ornamented with a new pair of armored gloves, unmistakeably giant craftsmanship. He clenched and unclenched his hands as if breaking them in. Wisps of frost curled off the palms before vanishing in the warm summer air. Will wasn't sure he wanted to see what he could do with that or the exquisite greatsword across his back, also emitting frost.

 The identity of the second figure could only be discerned by association and the silvery-grey horns curling back from his brow. Kretar was otherwise disguised by the raven mask of his new black leather armor. It looked more ornamental than practical, given the large sections of skin visible through the cross-stitching and flexible fabric made to facilitate acrobatic movements. However, Willard didn't doubt the Khindre could still kill him a thousand ways to Stoneday with his magical blades that left no trace of a killing blow. 

That being said, he was more terrified that he didn't see the one called Chai. An expert markswoman, she could launch arrows through the throats of three men before they could so much as scream. Willard had heard the stories from men surviving the encounter; even the second-hand account had given him nightmares. 

Laughter erupted from the gaggle of friends, and Will clenched his fist as he saw the source: Leo, crowned in ringlets of gold, also sporting new weaponry, all with a gryphon motif. Something about Leo aggravated Willard, though he couldn't quite place it. Was it the Ursuthran refinement of his otherwise human features that gave his already attractive face an exotic flair? Possibly. Maybe it was his bardic magic, allowing him to charm his way through most any situation with far less effort than he'd have to employ. Or perhaps it was that whenever Will saw him and Aisllae together, the girl had a noticeable glow about her? 

His eyes traveled to the right, and there she was, Aisllae, her pink hair styled in an unconventional but alluring loop of braids. Bright eyes the color of river stones gleamed affectionately as she stared up at Leo, a silent laugh still trembling through her body. 

She used to laugh like that at my jokes, Will thought as spikes of jealousy stabbed through him. Grey draconic horns and scales adorned Aisllae's face, painting even her mirth in a fiercely adorable light. The results of my family's work. She seems to be taking it in stride. She's even adopted a pet dragon! A platinum scaled wyrmling was draped across Aisllae's shoulders contentedly. That dragon was the factor in the girl's new life Willard knew the least about. Where had she found it? The young man knew it to be dangerous. How many of his family's hired thugs had been found with crushed bones from Aisllae's hammer and torn throats from a set of sharp teeth? 

"We're not alone," someone in the group said then. Will wasn't sure who but guessed Lijaha since the voice sounded vaguely reptilian. Glancing down at his feet, the young man realized he was now several paces away from the building he'd concealed himself behind. I must have walked forward unconsciously while looking at Aisllae. Even after all this time, she still moves me.

A nervous titter escaped his mouth as he tripped over an uneven flagstone, nerves overcoming all of his natural grace. "Might as well call me Willard Stumbletoe," he said aloud without meaning to.

"Willard," the raven-masked Kretar snarled with undisguised scorn. Will knew the tiefling from the days when they'd both worked in the employ of an infamous werewolf crime boss. I still do; my family insists that I be their liaison to that clan of murderous mutts. Like most of the men and women in that order, it was no secret that Kretar held him in contempt. Will shrugged inwardly. He could deal with that with no problem. Despite being of noble blood, he was the one people glared down their noses at more often than not. He'd grown accustomed to their disappointment.

What Willard couldn't whether was the sheer anger burning forth from Aisllae when he worked up the courage to meet her gaze. Those stone grey eyes he'd loved had suddenly shifted, becoming bright, fiery gold with a vertical reptilian pupil. Whatever my family did really worked, Will marveled. She really has been infused with the essence of a dragon! Her muscles clenched tightly, bulging against the skin and pressing her worn chainlink armor outwards. One hand splayed out, and Will watched as a glowing spear of sunlight materialized there. Blood rushed to Will's face. She's changed so much from the scrawny street urchin I first fell for, which only makes her more attractive. She looks like she could pry my head from my neck. Just stick that spear in and pop!

What broke Will's heart was that Aisllae gave the impression she would enjoy nothing quite as much as doing just that.

He'd seen that anger once before when Kretar had mistakenly led them into the possession of the aforementioned werewolf crime boss. Will had hoped to strike up a conversation when he'd seen the draconic girl staring at him from across the room. He'd dared to hope that maybe she thought about him as often as he did about her. But before, he'd mistaken that glower for her just having a bad day, and she'd been gone before Will could approach. Now, however, the intensity of the withering scowl leveled at him where moments before bright mirth had shone revealed the truth. She wasn't upset about the circumstances of the day. It was because she saw me!

The young noble wasn't sure what to say or even to think. He'd dreamed up this reunion hundreds of times, even spent time hunting in the streets on the off chance she'd returned to her old stomping grounds. Never had it occurred to him that Aisllae's old affection would transform into such deep hatred.

"What do you want, Willard," Kretar asked in that deep, throaty voice.

The Tapporwhill boy gulped, his gaze darting back and forth between Aisllae and Kretar. "I...uh.." he swallowed, attempting to return moisture to his parched throat. The dragon around Aisllae's neck lifted its head. Will didn't have the years of study necessary to read its facial expressions, but if he had to guess, he'd say the dragon was examining him shrewdly, dissecting him without the need for tools. 

Belatedly, it occurred to Will that he'd been asked a question that warranted a response, so he pulled his eyes away from the dragon's fangs.

"Stand down, everyone. He's no threat. Look, he can barely decide where to place his eyes!" Once again, that slithery voice crept in, and Will felt a shiver down his spine as he still couldn't determine its source.

"That's unfair," he responded to the unseen speaker. "Y-you can't make that estimation without even seeing me fight!"

"Is that what you want, Willard?" Kretar wondered. "To fight?"

"No, it isn't," Will admitted. As everyone removed their hands from their weapons, relief cooled his chest. Everyone, of course, except Aisllae. Forcing himself to take a deep, calming breath, Will finally provided an answer. That was much easier when three skilled warriors weren't preparing to turn you into mincemeat. "I'm here to see Aisllae."

"You've seen her," Kretar said, stepping forward to block Will's access to the girl. "Now scram." He snapped, and tiny, cackling heads of flame began to circle around the Khindre's fingertips. 

Aisllae's new friends sure are protective of her. It seems nobody is immune to her charms. But he needed to get through to her. I've come too far to give up now. There was nothing he hated as vehemently as begging, but he didn't see any other option now. "Please, what's the harm in one little conversation?" His charmer's smile betrayed confidence he certainly didn't feel. Will had a surprise for Aisllae, which might help them bridge the gap between them. It won't be easy, as it looks like my Aisllae has become a volcano, and my old stepping stones have been consumed by lava. When they'd been together before, the pair had lacked a method of direct conversation. Aisllae had been able to read his lips, but a natural handicap had held them back. Aisllae was mute and deaf, which had made meaningful conversation pointless. Which probably contributes to our current interactions. But if Will could only reach out and touch the girl's core without being burned too severely, maybe everything would be alright. Months of secret lessons had led to Willard finally learning sign language, so perhaps further miscommunication could be avoided. 

Kretar did move back and dispel his hellish flames, but Will could tell he was ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. The young nobleman gathered his thoughts and prepared to sign a greeting to Aisllae, but the girl reacted first, her fingers ripping through the air with ferocity and force. His eyes were glued to those fingers which had once caressed his hand lovingly, and he didn't miss a single word.

Why won't you just leave me alone? You've done enough damage!

Out to betray him, apparently, Will's consciousness couldn't help but say, At least we're still on speaking terms! An argument is better than silent treatment. A slight smile cracked through Will's otherwise honest exterior. Wrong move. Aisllae's frown only deepened, and her signs flashed out even more furiously. 

Your family is nothing but monsters, Will! I dreamed you'd be different, but only a monster would smile when a past victim confronts them! Through sweet words and actions, you blinded me! Because apparently, I wasn't disabled enough for you! You betrayed me, Willard! I loved you, and you betrayed me!

Her paralysis shattered by the tirade, Will watched in stunned horror as Aisllae's quivering rage turned to silent sobs. Before her friends could react, the draconic girl slipped past them and dashed down the street, turning into an alley and vanishing out of sight. Will saw tears staining the stone street where she'd been moments before. The once suave noble stared at those rapidly evaporating droplets and didn't even notice Lijaha stepping closer until the half-dragon had already hoisted him into the air! 

"What did you do?"

"I...I don't....what just happened?!"

The little platinum dragon, which had apparently detached from Aisllae, clung to a wall above the group and opened its mouth. "Are you really that dense?" Suddenly, Willard realized that the dragon had been the source of the mysterious voice, which didn't make him feel any better. Infused the essence of dragons and friends with the genuine artifact. What good am I? 

"What just happened was that you, Willard Tapporwhill, the consummate charmer and honeypot, if my sister's words have any merit, have just managed to stumble your way through a conversation so spectacularly that you made Aisllae cry."

"I didn't even say anything to her!" Will cried.

"That's the point! You were too busy ogling and quivering that you couldn't even use your supposedly legendary speechcraft to mollify my sister." 

 Will tried to twist and look at the dragon, but Lijaha held him quite still. Goosebumps popped up across his skin as his gauntlets continually emitted freezing mist. "I wasn't ogling...okay, maybe I was. But you can't blame me! She's changed so much, but seeing her alive brings me tremendous relief."

"Clearly, she doesn't feel the same about you," Kretar remarked, and the slight satisfaction in his voice cut right through Will. I thought it would be Leo I'd be warring against for Aisllae's affection. Is this one joining the fray too?

"If that's how I made her feel...it was far from my intention!" This couldn't possibly have gone worse. Willard had only done what his family had demanded of him, but clearly, the miscommunication was worse than he'd imagined. "I...I just wanted to talk...to reconnect." Despite several years and several other women, Willard was still caught up on two kisses, one in his sitting room and another before the hammer fell. Kisses shared by a nobleman who had never wanted for anything but affectionate attention and a street girl who'd lacked everything. "Can't she see that.."

"No, she can't," the dragon snarled. "Maybe it's time for you to divorce your head from your privileged noble ass. You and my sister obviously see the same situation from differing perspectives. To her, what you did feels like a total betrayal of trust. If that wasn't what you were trying to do, then you'd best figure out how to make her understand that. Let him down, Lijaha."

"Glorriosa, no!" Kretar growled. "Are you trying to get Aisllae hurt?"

Will began to protest, but the dragon hissed him into silence. "Trust me, Kretar. Nobody is more protective of my sister than I am. I have it from someone I believe to be sensible that this boy isn't as much of a dung sack as he appears." 

"Sooo, am I letting him down, or what?" Lijaha asked, bouncing Willard up and down by his shirt collar. The nobleman felt the fabric tear and was glad he hadn't worn better attire. This shirt he could burn to hide the evidence of this trip from his parents. 

"Yes," Glorriosa said, and Kretar only grunted.

"Okay," Lijaha opened his hand, and Willard fell three feet to the ground, impacting with the groan.