“Almighty, ancient Kevura! Appear before us!”

Just like last time, the pillar of fire explores upwards from the Gathering Stone, spreading its great blue flames over the ceiling of the White Mountain aerie. As they fan outwards over the porous rocks and dissipate into nothing, my gaze falls to the base of the rock where the fires that illuminate the mountain burn bright. I hold my breath, waiting to see if they’ll snuff out and herald the arrival of not only the Dragon deity but the answers to questions that have plagued me since I became a Lithan.

But it too is just like last time. The fires flicker and dance as if nothing at all magical had occurred. I exhale, feeling my wings droop to the ground in defeat — Keuvra won’t appear today.

The mood around the aerie is similarly somber. Keuvra failing to appear once was unprecedented; to not appear twice seems unconscionable. But before the crowd can get rowdy with apprehension, Meldi and Khosa speak to assuage them of their fears, announcing Keuvra is still present in the mountain and will reappear once the time is right.

The fate of the Lordanou rests on your wings. I will return once the matter has been settled.

What is my fate? What does the flock have to do with it? I can’t help but wonder if my presence in Felra is impending Keuvra’s return.

The gathering soon concludes after some remarks from the elders. Meldi looks at me and nods, signaling my participation in the event is no longer required. Still crestfallen, I unfurl my wings and slowly glide to the ground where Frida and Nakino are waiting for me among the crowd of departing Kin.

“Asha…” the voice drifts from Kuro’s younger sister as I land on a nearby boulder. She looks as deflated as I am. “I’m sorry he didn’t appear.”

I hop down and flutter my wings, trying to feel upbeat. “It’s okay. I’m sure he’ll return after I fly back to my Kingdom.”

Before she left me at the Grandfather Tree, Kuro and I agreed that my final day in Felra would occur after the upcoming darkmoon gathering. Besides a few loose ends needing to be tied up (most importantly, the promise I made to the elders about sharing Ellyntide’s prey,) this would be my last chance to commune with the Dragon deity before I returned to Ellyntide. So much for that part.

“Keuvra could at least tell us why he won’t appear,” Nakino grumbles, “Such a waste of time.”

I can’t help but smirk at Nakino’s predictable grumpiness. Over the past few days, we’ve worked tirelessly to exchange as much botanical knowledge as possible. He’s come such a long way with understanding our taxonomic system! And in turn, I’ve become much more familiar with the flora of Felra, learning about all the plants Nakino is looking for and how he uses them to take care of the flock. Through it all, I’ve learned that despite the thorniness of his personality, there’s a drakon underneath that cares deeply about those he cares for. In a certain way, I admire him.

As I rejoin the group, Frida tries to remain optimistic. “I’m sure there’s a good reason he hasn’t."

“Not good enough,” Nakino says, kicking a stone under his talons. “Asha leaves in a few days, and we might never see her again.”

“Well, you’d better make the best of your time left with her! What are you two going to do now? I heard Gish caught live prey for the flock to play with.”

“Let’s look for Kuro,” I suggest. At mentioning her name, I sense Nakino tense up next to me. “I want to find her before the sun reappears.”

I was certain Kuro would return to the Grandfather Tree to fly with me today, but she was nowhere to be seen when the call from the top of White Mountain echoed through the lower valley. Nakino and I ran into Frida when we arrived, but we couldn’t locate Kuro before the elders spoke.

“Ugh! I was certain she would fly over here after you went before the elders. I don’t know where she could be!”

“Well, let’s walk around and— oh!”

I nearly squawk at something nipping the tips of my tail feathers. Expecting a talon to have accidentally trampled it, I twist my neck around only to find nobody there. It’s not until I lower my gaze that I see a fledge with her body slumped into a playfully threatening stance, fangs bared.

“Hee-hee!” she growls. “Hi, Asha!”

“Well hello, little one!” It seems my tail was mistaken for prey.

She relaxes and stares up at me, her face beaming. “Your story today was so neat!! I wanna hear another one!!”

The tale of my encounter with the Beatrix was such a hit at the last gathering that I was asked to tell a new story today. So before the summoning ceremony, I flew up to the Gathering Stone and recounted the showdown in the hollow and how I mysteriously transformed into a Lithan. It seems I captivated at least one young listener.

Still, I chuckle hesitantly. She must be unaware I’m leaving soon. “Well, if I tell another story, I have to do it in front of the entire flock, you know?”

“Ohhhhh,” she deflates, drooping her wings. “I understand. Well, you should listen to our story instead! Cina is telling one about Keuvra!”

Oh, really? “Is that so?”

Frida steps to my side. “Hey, that sounds like fun!”

“No, it doesn’t,” Nakino grumbles.

“But Cina’s such a great storyteller! And besides, Asha’s never heard the story about how Keuvra became a deity, right?”

I shake my head. “Never!”

“Then it’s settled!” Frida announces. “Little Fress, would you please lead the way?”

“Hee-hee!” she giggles, her spirits fully restored. “Alright! Follow me, Asha!!” Without waiting a moment longer, she turns and darts away from us.

Frida begins following, then stops to look back. “Asha, let’s look for Kuro afterward, okay? I think it’s a good idea for you to hear this.”

I nod in agreement. While I’m still in Felra, I should try to learn as much as possible about… everything! Perhaps there’s a clue in Keuvra’s story as to why I became a Lithan? I think even Kuro would agree it’s a good idea.

The little fledge bounds through the thinning crowd, humming a tune as she walks, playfully bobbing her wings up and down. Eventually, she leads us to a jagged outcrop of rock where a group of noisy fledges have gathered in a semi-circle around a grizzled old drakaina. As we approach the back of the group, the pale-gray whiskers on her muzzle twitch.

“Well, well,” she muses in a ragged voice, opening her eyes wide enough to look beyond the tufts of slate feathers surrounding them. “This is most unexpected. Little ones, it would seem we have a special guest.”

The crowd of kits and fledges twists around. Like moths to a flame, their eyes are drawn to me.

“It’s Asha!!”

“Asha, what’s it like having hands?”

“Can you make Lemur noises?”

“Hey, Asha! What was it like being dumb prey?”

Before I can become overwhelmed, a low growl from the area of the outcrop causes the ground to tremble, quickly silencing the nattering fledges. But instead of being upset, Cina’s expression is just as cheery as before. “I hope you young ones can appreciate just how special an occasion this is. Child of the Goddess, I am Cina, Daughter-Of-Tekoosh. ”

“Asha, Daughter-Of-Kelani,” I say, mantling my wings. “Thank you very much for allowing me to listen to your story. This one says you will be telling a story about Keuvra.”

I angle my wing toward the fledge we followed, standing at my side. She smiles a big, boastful grin.

“Young Etoli is correct,” she says, flicking her ears to beckon Etoli back into the group. She giggles and jumps forward over the wing of a lounging boy and takes a seat on the hard ground. “It is a story that all Kin are told as kits, one they carry with them for the rest of their lives. It is about Keuvra, but also our history as a flock. For our past is intertwined with him just as our future.”

Cina signals with her wings for everyone present to lie down and get comfortable. Frida and I have no trouble following her request, but it takes a moment and a huffy grunt for Nakino to comply.

“Our story today is called,”

Keuvra and the Three Domains

Untold generations ago, long before the Sons and Daughters of Kevura, our flock was one of many great Dragon clans of Jade. In those times before ascendant animals, it was the Dragons who ruled the Moon! Every island, every mountain, and every place the wind blew was our domain. We stalked prey on the land, in the sky, and at the sea — a lake of water so impossibly vast, one could fly for days and never see land. Prey was limitless, and the land was warm. It was truly paradise.

It was then that Azurrel, the God of Creation, appeared. They came before the Dragon clans and offered them the Gift of Communication and the Gift of Ascendancy.

“What?!” An unbidden gasp escapes me. Dragons were offered the gift of Ascendancy? Before Lemurs?! It’s not until the eyes of everyone present are drawn to me that I realize the gravity of my mistake.

“That’s right,” Cina mews without a trace of hostility. Instead, she appears somewhat amused. “Daughter-Of-Kelani, I sense that your Goddess has taught you a… different telling of events.”

“Yes,” I exhale, relieved I wasn’t scolded for interrupting. “But I would prefer to hear your version first before discussing mine. It was rude of me to interrupt. Please, continue.”

Cina remains unchanged and nods silently. Before she can resume the story, a wing brushes against me. I glance to my left and find Frida smiling like an idiot, plainly amused by what just occurred.

“Gee, thanks!” I whisper.

The gift of Communication, the gift to speak the way we do now, was readily accepted by the great Dragon clans. And to continue speaking over great distances, we have kept parts of our primitive tongue.

Fascinating! I’ve known from the moment I met Kuro that Lithans had the gift of Communication. But I’ve often wondered why we can roar like ferals or why I feel myself sometimes growling, even when I’m not consciously thinking about it. It’s just the useful, feral parts of communication we kept.

But what about Redagas? They’re Dragons too, right? So, how come the one I fought didn’t understand me when I tried talking to it? Perhaps they’re called Flase-Kin by the flock because they are lesser, witless Dragons who couldn’t be given the gift of Communication.

But when offered Ascendancy, the Dragon clans refused. To prey on the land, in the sky, and at the sea — that was the essence of a Dragon. And to deprive us of our essence would render us Dragons no more. And so, Azurrel searched elsewhere, finding others willing to receive their gift: Lemurs, Martens, Rabbits, and Avians — The ascendant creatures of the Farlands we know today. Stricken from their feral ways, they walked upright on two legs. The Avians, once compatriots to Dragons in the sky, began new lives on the ground. The Dragon clans pitied those hapless creatures and preyed on them mercilessly.

Meanwhile, competition between the great clans was fierce. Our Snowfell Flock was considered minor, a weak contingent of foolhardy snow Dragons from the north. But it was during this chaos that Almighty Keuvra, Son-Of-Athe, appeared. From the summit of White Mountain, he quickly ascended to power in the flock. And with his cunning wit, he commanded the flock into battle. One by one, battle by battle, the other clans fell before Keuvra and the Snowfell Flock. And when the final drop of blood was spilled, it was Keuvra standing last. For the first time, the Dragons of Jade were united as one. And their leader was Kevura.

But all was not well. While Keuvra fought for White Mountain, the moon itself began to change. Slowly the land grew cold, chilling prey to their bones. Then the sky grew inhospitable, grounding all but the grandest prey. And finally, the seas, once a source of endless bounty, turned to ice. Our paradise had become a bleak, frozen Hell.

In our darkest hour, Azurrel appeared once more, bearing a radical proposal: Follow his teachings, and he would rend the islands themselves from the moon, lifting them into the sky and away from the storms below. But Keuvra was suspicious, fearing the flock would become subservient to Azurrel. All the blood spilled to unite the Dragons in harmony would be for naught.

Keuvra negotiated, and a compromise was reached. Five mortals were chosen to deify and represent their species before the God of Creation. Malfex, the Marten. Jaya, the Rabbit. Scew, the Avian. Etain, the Lemur. And Keuvra, the Dragon. To this day, they watch over us all as our stewards.

And so, the continents did rise. The land warmed, and the skies calmed. Our sea had become the lakes, the streams, and the rivers. The grand aerie you sit in now was carved by Kevura, a gift to his flock for protection from harsh winters. And on Maki, Kevura raised the Land of the Next Life, the final home for all Dragons. To us, the Sons and Daughters of Keuvra, we owe him our existence. For he protects us from beyond far —on the land, in the sky, and at the sea.

Cina folds her wings and dips her head, signaling the end of the story. The young crowd exhales and glances between themselves, unsure how to process the grand tale they just heard. Even in Ellyntide, the story of how mortals became divine and continents rose is a big shock to young audiences.

“Daughter-Of-Kelani,” Cina addresses me with a curious gaze. “Now that our story is told, I am curious to hear your perspective.”

“Well,” I say, feeling the eyes of the crowd drawn to me again. “It’s very similar to the story The Goddess teaches us about why the Conti— I mean, why the islands were raised. But in our version of the story, the ascendant animals unite to negotiate with Azurrel. Dragons are only mentioned leaving the Farlands to roost in Felra.”

It’s fascinating how similar our stories are. The flock’s account of the Great Freeze is identical, and they even have their own version of the afterlife on Maki. But it’s just like the story of how animals ascended, the one I heard in the chapel on the day I left Varecia: Everyone has their own version that flatters their particular species. In our version, Azurrel appears to the Lemurs first, and it’s the Lemurs who convince Azurrel to allow Etain to deify. The flock’s version made it sound like everyone would have frozen to death if not for Keuvra!

“How could the ascendant animals unite?” A young drakon asks. “I thought they hate each other and fight all the time?”

“Well!” I say, just a little flabbergasted. Where did he learn that from? “It’s true that we fight each other — a lot. But we’re trying to get better! At the Goddess’s urging, my mother has been working on a peace treaty with one of the other Kingdoms.”

Yes, she ‘has’ been working on the peace treaty. Ever since I was a little girl. Mom has been unwilling to concede the territory we gained during the fourth war, and the King of Sarlain is reluctant to admit that he staged the assassination of my grandmother. Despite some incessant pestering from the Goddess, almost no progress has been made in the past decade.

On second thought, maybe that wasn’t the best example of how civilized we are.

“But what surprised me the most,” I say, continuing the original conversation. “Was that Azurrel came to offer the Dragons the gift of Ascendancy before Lemurs. None of our stories teach us that.”

Cina’s eyes narrow slightly. “Does that trouble you? That Azurrel chose Dragons first?”

“Not at all,” I quickly follow up. “I’m sure it would bother some of the Lemurs I know back home. But, now that I’ve lived as a Lithan for a little while, I think I understand Azurrel’s reasoning.”

Besides being the Apex predator of the moon, a single Lithan’s power is astonishing. Why wouldn’t Azurrel pick Lithans first? It is a matter of pride for some Lemurs that all the other enlightened species received their hands from us — They view us as the ‘progenitor’ species. I wonder how they’d react learning we were Azurrel’s plan B?

Cina’s mouth curls into a gentle smile, pleased by my response. “All of Azurrel’s creations have their role on Jade. It is the role of Kin to be the strongest and to prey on all others. Azurrel’s offer, and our rejection, are proof of this truth.”

A wing dark as night brushes gently against my side. “Hey,” Nakino says. “I found Kuro.”

The healer angles his ears behind him, pointing the way across the mountain to a crowd of Kin gathered close to one of the stone towers that lights the aerie. In the center of the group, the wings of a moss-colored Kin are raised over the crowd, darting back and forth to a cadence of shrieks and roars.

“Ah,” Frida sighs longingly. “There she is. Getting into another fight.”

Anxiety tightens my chest. Was she getting into fights instead of looking for me? Or did another cocky boy try to challenge her while she was looking? But more importantly, is she alright?

“Thank you for sharing your story,” I say, tipping my wings to Cina. “But, um, we need to make sure Kuro is okay.”

“I see,” Cina says, chuckling to herself. “Very well, then. Know you are always welcome to listen to my stories, child of the Goddess.”

I tip my wings in thanks before the group, then turn to take off in search of my friend.