Ten Years Is A Long Time

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It is dusk by the time Orianna brings the last of her and Gerhard’s things over to their new home on Archelson Avenue. The move had been an unexpected but necessary one, what with her father’s sudden return to her life. She had kept busy. There were many distractions to occupy her spinning thoughts that before she knew it a tenday had already passed. Anything that would keep her out of their once perfect flat for two. The reason was simple enough; whenever she dwelt on what she would say or ask her father, she got nervous. Ten years is a long time. Half of her life. What kind of person is her father now? Would he be the same as she remembered him? Or has she painted her memories in a rose-coloured hue? Or is it possible her father’s adventures away from her have changed him beyond recognition?

Orianna used her work at the Academy, the search for a new home and all the arrangements it entailed, even Gerhard’s continued absence as a distraction to avoid the conversation she needed to have with Rimmon. She would not admit it aloud, but it was the latter thing that kept her distracted the most. Whatever the Staircase needed Gerhard to do was taking up more time than usual. She hoped wherever he was, he was not alone but with such an enigmatic entity Orianna couldn’t be sure, and she could not ask Gerhard because he was not there. A difficult dilemma.

She had tried to hold out for his return before moving but it became abundantly apparent that it was an expense she could not afford. Paying for the rent of two locations along with her Giant lessons with Kavel was not feasible on her little savings. Orianna had left a note for whoever would occupy their old flat to not be alarmed if some unknown stranger would enter their space, expecting her and not them. But perhaps it wasn’t the right course of action to take. But better to be forewarned of such an accidental encounter, right? Just the thought of it made her embarrassed. It wasn’t like there were already tensions between the scholars of the Academy and the adventuring community…

Perhaps she will ask the Star Mother when Gerhard will return so she can be ready to intercept and prevent such an unwanted situation.

Shaking the potential secondhand embarrassment from her, Orianna looks to the open window to see Valethra, snoot pressed up against the glass, fogging up the window as her whole body wiggles in excitement. Tilting her horned head Orianna asks across their bond, What has made you so excited, little one? As she climbs the three steps to their front door. All she gets in response is a feeling of great warmth as if from a hearty fire.

Perhaps Gerhard has returned…?

Juggling the box in her arms, her Star Cradle, and the key, Orianna unlocks the door, opening it carefully whilst trying to block the baby crystal dragon’s escape into the street. It was a good place, and the Academy knew of Valethra, but Orianna was still extremely cautious when it came to who could see or interact with her ward and charge. It was no wonder then, being so thoroughly distracted that the young tiefling failed to notice her father waiting in the entranceway.

“Oh!” Orianna jumps, startled “Father, I-” Valethra dashes between her cloven feet and she narrowly avoids stepping on the dragon’s tail. “Valethra, please-” She chides in Draconic. Then continuing in Infernal, “Father, what are you doing up? You should be resting-”

The same image of a warm fire shooting across her and Valethra’s bond was distracting but it also made sense now. Orianna remembered her father always being unnaturally warm. He never really spoke about his life before meeting her dad, but she knew he came from somewhere very hot.

To see Rimmon now though, standing in the hallway clearly still weak from whatever curse had been placed on him a week or so ago, Orianna would not think he was a great scholar and intellectual thinker. He looked to have aged more than ten years. As he leans up against the wall, probably having waited for her for some time, a sudden bolt of guilt makes Orianna hip check the front door a little harder than intended. It closes with a loud bang making her wince and the glass rattle. Rimmon clutches a blanket around his shoulders, doing his best to keep it closed around him, despite the warmth of the summer evening.

“Don’t worry about me,” Rimmon says with a wave of his hand. “I’m feeling much better today. I managed to get out of bed no problem,” he adds with a gesture to himself.

Orianna gives him a once over, still holding everything. That’s when she notices her father is slightly shivering underneath the heavy blanket. She frowns.

Rimmon catches her look and continues before she can object. “My dear you are carrying too much by yourself. Here let me help you with that.” He barely takes one step forward before he begins to slide down the wall, his cloven legs clearly not having the strength in them to support him. He hits the ground with a slight thud.

“Damn blasted primordial…” he says under his breath.

Dropping the box and her Star Cradle, Orianna rushes over, muttering a few choice words in their mother tongue, which causes Rimmon’s eyebrows to raise. Orianna ignores the look and checks him thoroughly, but he stops her, clearly angry at his condition, not at her, despite the exhaustion.

“Please let me help you carry some of your things in. I have only been a burden on you this past week. You have had to move house just to accommodate me and I need to start pulling my weight around here.”

Rimmon attempts to pull himself up off the floor but his arms also betray him, their strength not there. At last he gives in and lets Orianna finish checking him over, giving him some more revitalising healing that sees the crystal scales across her body shimmer and glow with a lingering light.

“You doing this is making me worry,” she says, her voice tired and tense at the same time. He looks away, embarrassed for the situation he was clearly now causing. “Besides, I am a grown woman. I am not the little girl you left behind.”

The words were out of her mouth before Orianna realised what she had said. There was no maliciousness to them, but their truth was harsh if not factually correct. Her eyes go wide, embarrassment rising up her neck, making her periwinkle skin flush deep blue. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said- What I mean is- here-”

Orianna practically hoists her father to stand up, whilst moving slowly and carefully. All the while she deftly avoids his gaze.

“Come into the sitting room. I will build up a fire for you, that will make you feel warmer.”

It is an awkward silence, broken only by the effort Rimmon has to put in to move back to the armchair he had been sitting in when she left earlier that day. Valethra races into the room, first leaping into the seat, only to be told by Orianna to get down, before she leaps off the seat, gliding over to the ottoman. The little dragon starts head butting and full body shoving it to be closer. Turning the chair so it faces the small fireplace, Orianna begins fussing over where the blanket sits, making sure her father is as comfortable as he can be, and fully covered. After a third pass of tucking in the blanket, she flicks her hand towards the embers in the fireplace, reigniting its flames before standing up. She is about to head towards the kitchen to make some tea, when she notices Rimmon’s hand still grips hers.

“You are right my daughter. Your dad and I abandoned you and for that we…” In his hesitation Orianna feels her throat clench with emotion. “I can never do enough to make up for the time we left you alone. We made you go through some of the most important parts of your life without us. Believe me when I say we missed you so much.” Rimmon’s glowing amber gaze locks onto hers, tears gathering, ready to fall.

“I am so sorry we left you behind. You have every right to be angry with us, to hate us…” He takes a slow, shaky breath. “But please believe me when I say that we always held you close in our hearts. Never did a day go by that we didn’t desperately want to know how you were doing, to see how much you had grown since we had left. We never meant to be away for so long but our mission never ended.” His voice breaks a little. “We should have just walked away and returned to you…” Rimmon looks to the floor, the last of his dignity gone. “I am so sorry Orianna…”

To see him so utterly defeated shook Orianna to her core. She almost didn’t know what to do. Floundering a little, she crouches down, taking hold of her father’s hand.


“No. No, father, please-” Her tail wraps around her leg like it did when she was a child when she knew she had done wrong but had not understood how or why quite yet. “Father, I… what I said… I do not hold any resentment towards either of you. I-… I just missed you.”

Glittering tears spill down her cheeks. Orianna squeezes her father’s hand, holding onto it like a lifeline.

“It’s just so hard… I can’t think of A-” She hides the telltale wince behind a sniffle but Rimmon knows. “I can’t think of things without feeling so lost sometimes.”

“Oh my daughter.” Rimmon pulls her closer. “I’m so sorry but that is the curse of our homeland. Those that leave don’t remember it and thus never return. I wish there was something that can be done to help but it is far beyond any magic that a mere moral like I could muster. You would have to ask the Star Mother for that I’m afraid. It certainly worked when your father asked her to help me.” Rimmon lets out a small chuckle at the memory.

“I did not think to ask that when we spoke to her…” Orianna admits. There were so many other pressing questions they needed to ask. The idea of being free of this constraint had not even crossed her mind but now she wished she had. The thought of her dad being clever enough to ask for that makes her smile.

“It was quite the event when your father and I came back no longer under the effects of the curse,” Rimmon continues. “When I say that some of the elders were not happy with us… Well, it was quite the stir. They couldn’t wait to have us leave. They said we would incite another Great Exodus.” He half rolls his eyes. Catching Orianna’s curious and confused gaze he sobers and places his other hand over hers.

“I’m sorry you’ve felt lost for so long, but I’m here now.” He squeezes her hand. “I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Orianna searches her father’s face, grateful for his candour but there was more she wanted- no, needed to know. “Are you saying you remember things… even now? What did you mean by inciting another great exodus?” The magic that prevents her from thinking or even remembering Ashkha tightens like iron bands around her mind as she asks her questions.

“Yes I remember Ashkha, our home. Though some memories have dulled with time, they are still there. I remember vividly the first time your father brought us there. A city that shines under the desert…” He sighs. “It was truly beautiful. A hidden paradise.” Rimmon’s gaze goes distant as he slips into memory, whilst Orianna’s focuses on his mouth and the words they shape, doing her best to hold onto every piece she can even as the curse tries to take it away from her.

“The first time I set foot in the Grand Archive, seeing the rows upon rows of ancient tomes, and knowledge that is stored within… Oh I was so happy in those halls, spending hours pouring over the old texts…” Just as it seems he is about to get lost in memories of the past, Rimmon comes back to the present, guilt colouring his expression.

“I apologise, Orianna. It is unfair for me to reminisce when you are unable to remember.” He shifts a little in his chair, letting her hand go.

Orianna did not mind her father reminiscing. But it was making her head spin, holding onto things. Like trying to hold onto sand as it fell through her fingers. Valethra puts her front legs on her thighs, looking at her then looking at the ottoman she had pushed closer towards them. The young tiefling smiles, telling her thank you and giving Valethra a scratch behind the horns.

“The Great Exodus,” Rimmon starts once Orianna has settled into her new seat, his voice taking on the timbre of the instructor she remembers him to be. It is comforting and soothes her. “Thaneni told me about this a few times. In times long passed there were nine great houses, or the Great Whyt’s of Ashkha. These houses were blessed by the Nine Great Protectors and thus they oversaw all of Ashkha, making sure the city was maintained and looked after properly, defending it from any external threat. They did not rule over the city. They had sway to be sure, but they were guardians first and foremost. That is until one day, one of the houses left the city unexpectedly with no reason or explanation to be found. The city mourned but eventually moved on. Over the next one hundred years or so the other seven houses left under the same circumstances of seemingly no apparent reason. All but the Whyt of Seba, the House of The Stars, the one the Star Mother blessed, remained. Over time the Whyt could not maintain the city alone and it fell, its members all but disappearing into the general population. It was believed that at some point the line had been broken and the blessing of the Star Mother lost forever. That is until your father — and now you — were born carrying her blessing once again.”

His shaking has diminished in the heat by the fire. It makes his steady gaze weigh a little more than it did before. “She called you her Herald. That is the highest honour that any of the Great Protectors can bestow upon their blessed children. Though you should know that being a Herald is a big responsibility. Your father was asked a long time ago but turned it down. If you do not want it you too can refuse. The choice is always yours to make.”

It was not the first time a dragon of great power claimed her to be their Herald. The notable difference between Desathrax and Stellarum aside, this declaration felt more… true. But was it truly right for her? Is she the best person to be considered for such an important role? If being Stellarum’s Herald is the highest honour, why did her dad refuse it?

“Of course you can ask me any other burning questions you have about Ashkha,” Rimmon continues, oblivious to the questions swirling in his daughter’s mind. “But first I would like a proper introduction to the little one…” Rimmon slowly reaches down to the floor where Valethra’s curious snout peeks out from behind Orianna’s leg. “…and I would like to know about this Gerhard, and what his intentions are with my daughter.”

Orianna was picking up Valethra when her cheeks flushed at the mention of Gerhard and his intentions.

“Gerhard? Oh, um, he-” Orianna clears her throat. “Well, he is a human. I met him when I came here to Daring Heights — in the Academy. He was doing, uh, research. Yes. Research into- uh- extra-planar travel at the time.” Her violet gaze slips to the side. Valethra gives her a curious look and Orianna smiles to herself. “He is important to me beyond words. A constant, an anchor in my life.” She absently plays with the silver ring on her right pinky finger. After a beat, she realises both the baby dragon and her father are staring at her and she flushes anew, going a deep blue. “He will be home soon and you will get to meet him then.”

“Hmmm we shall see. Just so you know there are high expectations he’s going to have to meet and if he doesn’t…” Orianna’s eyes go wide and Rimmon can no longer contain his smile. He laughs and Orianna lets out a relieved sigh. “I trust your judgement. I am sure he is a good man and a worthy person for your hand. I look forward to meeting him.” That makes her smile.

“As for this little one,” Orianna continues, holding Valethra close to her chest and receiving a lick across her cheek in the process. “Her name is Valethra. She is the child of a great crystal dragon who is, sadly, no longer with us… Grougaloragran. He asked me to take care of her, to help raise her, and I graciously accepted.”

Valethra chirps and coos, nuzzling into Orianna’s neck before looking at Rimmon expectantly. Orianna laughs.

“She says hello, father, and would like to know if she could curl up on your lap. Something about having the warmest fire she has ever felt, before…”

Rimmon reaches out his hands toward Valethra who excitedly jumps into them. He gently places the baby dragon onto his lap and she pads around in circles a little before settling down. The moment she does, she starts purring which Orianna knows to mean Valethra is comfortable and content.

“She likes you already,” Orianna says, delighted.

Rimmon gently starts to pet the baby dragon, his expression turning slightly mournful. “It is such a shame to hear that Grougaloragran has passed away. He was a great dragon. He helped your father and I close to the start of our mission. I wish I could have been there to wish him farewell, but perhaps I could one day feel a familiar soul within this one.”

Valethra lifts her head a little coos in ascent.

“You met Grougagloragran?” Orianna asks in wonder. “What did he help you with?”

“Locating the Archwrym that he once served Thomdrazz, The Garnet Dragon. We believed that if we awoke him that his great powers of prophecy and precognition would help us to locate the Star Mother’s Crystal Foci, which was still lost to the desert. He did help in a roundabout way now I think back on it.” Rimmon shakes his head. “Damn prophecies are only clear after they have come to pass.”

“I see…” Orianna says. Grougagloragran being a dragon that once served the Great Seer somehow was less surprising than the fact that her fathers had met the ancient crystal dragon. It seems since she had come to the Dawnlands, Orianna had been encountering beings connected to her homeland all along. It was a marvel that made her feel less alone and yet even smaller and naive than she had before.

She shifts on the ottoman, thinking back on what her father had said before, unaware that she was assuming the same position she used to take as a child when her father would take her through that day’s lessons.

“So you and dad have been trying to find the Crystal Foci for a long time, then. But has that been all you’ve been doing? In your search for the Foci did you happen to find where some of the other Archwyrms are? Or,” she sits up, the idea occurring to her as she spoke, “is it possible you have been trying to find these other houses of the Great Whyt’s? Eight left you said, yes? Where did each of them go? Why did they leave? Who left first? Are any of them still around or are their descendants alive?” A sudden thought occurs to her. “If dad and I are the last to hold the Star Mother’s blessing does that not mean… that other-… place-” Saying even that much was hard on her, “-is in danger? What does it mean to be her Herald?”

The last question slipped out even though it was probably the only one her father would be least likely able to answer. But Orianna had to know. She was also asking a lot of him. Her father was getting tired, she could tell from the way his shoulders curved and the hand that kept rising up to rub his eyes. But for the first time since coming to the Dawnlands, Orianna felt less uncertain about everything. Perhaps it was having one of her parents with her. Or it was the possibility of answers after over a decade of unanswered questions. Or maybe it was something else. She didn’t know. But she hoped her father would indulge her a little longer.

“Yes we were searching for the other descendants of the Great Whyt’s. The Star Mother believed that if her Herald, your father, held the Foci and concentrated on the others we could find them. We do not know why she asked us to do this, though we did begin to theorise that perhaps the Great Whyt’s roles were more important than anyone realised.” Rimmon levels his gaze to Orianna. “At worst we think the barriers that keep Ashkha held safely under the sand could fail if the magic of the Heralds is not there to regenerate them. This is just a theory we have no evidence to say either way, but…”

But if they do not find the other Great Whyt’s, or at least themselves return, their home, the people still there, their family — everything and everyone could be in danger.

Rimmon inclines his head, seeing Orianna understand the gravitas of the situation.

“As to the location of the other Great Houses, we have no clue. The Foci sent us to many places but we never found anyone who actually processed any powers that manifested due to their heritage. We started to believe that the others are lying dormant until a time when they are needed, or when the other Archwyrms call upon their children like the Star Mother has.”

“Perhaps as a form of protection,” Orianna theorises. “But from what? The Primordial Incarnates?”

Rimmon shrugs. “The first House to leave was the Whyt of Akhet, the House of Light, blessed by Eroshria, the Iridescent Dragon. The why still remains a mystery, though. For the location of the Archwyrms, hmm…” Rimmon thinks for a moment. “I recall one is asleep in the plane of Arcadia, whilst another potentially slumbers in the Feywild.”

“This is incredible, father,” Orianna says, brightening. “Even knowing where two possibly are is more than what we knew before speaking of this. When you are better, we can look into confirming these locations at the Academy.”

Rimmon’s gaze turns thoughtful for a moment. Then he comes back to her, taking Orianna’s hand again. “I know you would wish to know what it means to be a Herald of one of the Archwyrms. Unfortunately I can say. That is a better question for your father, or The Star Mother herself.”

The brief optimism she felt is dashed by his words. “Of course. Yes. You’re right, father.”

At the mention of Thaneni all of Orianna’s curiosity vanishes. Resurfacing to replace it are memories of her own ill-fated imprisonment, wrapped in feelings of deep seated worry and coloured with guilt.

“Father, I-… I am so sorry I was not quicker in my coming to you. I was cautious- too cautious- scared, even, of what I would find where the stars fell and now, Dad is-… he is the prisoner of beings who would do him harm!” Orianna grips her father’s hands, holding onto them tightly, both beseeching and bolstering her words. “But I will find him. Gerhard can help, too. He is incredibly resourceful and clever! There is hardly a place across the planes that he cannot get to.”

Rimmom’s hand comes up to rest on Orianna’s cheek. “No, no you have nothing to apologise for, my daughter. You got to us when you needed to. You were right to be cautious. If you came any earlier you would not have been prepared for Abrax, and if you came too late I would not be here.” Her tears catch on his fingers and he uses his thumb to wipe them away, holding her gaze.

Even though the words are genuine and true, the kind of thing any father would say to a daughter in distress, Orianna’s guilt will not go away so quickly nor so easily. Not until she finds her dad and brings him home, safe and sound. Whilst trying to stop four Primordial beings from tearing the universe apart.

“I hope we can all be together again. Cosmos willing, I will make it so, father. I promise.”

Rimmon nods in agreement. “I know you will get your father back. I have complete faith in that. You have grown so much Orianna, and I am so proud of the woman you have become.”