Storms of Truth (HIATUS)

8 (REVISED)

FALORA

County of Crackjaw

It rained, but sunrays shone through the clouds of morning. Blankets of water passed over the forest beneath their rocky shelter and flickered and bloomed with orange light among the drops. Orilion continued to sleep with his back to the morning sun breaking the clouds apart. Falora held out her sketchbook and allowed him rest.

Whatever history was left behind in the fall of the Dragon Gods... whoever this is in front of me is different from the one in the tales. No matter how hard she tried to justify and twist the words, passages detailing his ferocity and cruelty. In the end, he was not a dragon, but a man suffering in his sleep.

Falora sighed and shuffled over to him. "Orilion?"

Sunlight tore apart the mist and splashed across his shirt. Falora went to move, but stopped at the glittered light behind the fabrics. Hesitation pricked her fingers, but she drew the hum upwards to investigate his spine. Rays from the clouds outside traced his skin.

Sunlight lashed around his back, centered around a point on his upper spine. Falora pressed the shirt all the way to his shoulders, shown the truth of the sun, contained by the storm's might. Golden glimmers snaked their way around the pressure points beneath his skin. It glowed with the intensity of a raging sun in the thousand deserts.

... something had almost killed a god after all. If he was mortal... he would be dead. Waves of heat shimmered off his skin and followed the snakes while they curled and twisted around his lithe frame. "Orilion?"

A scar of sunlight. Fingertips outstretched, she followed the trails of the sun. He tensed, though she never touched him. He didn't rouse from her examination, so she came close to the sun. Air boiled at her approach. Is this... the source of his problems? Falora ignored the bubbling warmth to come lean closer. It'd make sense, but... is this fire-based Elemental magic? But then... Falora moved so her shadow swallowed Orilion, where the scarring disappeared without the touch of the sun. One movement out of the way, the scarring bloomed with ferocity once more. She set her palm against his back, against the point of intensity while it crinkled against her skin, then gently pushed.

Quick as lightning, he snapped his eyes open and lurched to his feet. Electric shocks ran through her arm and into the rest of her body, and she shook the static out. He pressed himself against the wall, panting while the pupils twisted into the familiar dragon beads, glittering with alarmed cyan.

"I'm so sorry!" Falora exclaimed. "You have some... pretty bad scarring on your back."

Orilion winced and rested his hand against his chest. He groaned and shook his head out. Hurt, confusion, and the tiniest twinge of recognition formed the beaded pupils back into spheres. "What...?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

Falora relaxed then peeked out of the cave. "We should get moving," she said. "Can you move? I'm sorry if I hurt you. I couldn't tell what it was so I took a closer look..." Her words dripped off her tongue at his dark expression when he tucked his elbows against his knees. "What?"

"She hit me."

"Wait, she?" Falora leaped closer to him. "You remember something?"

"I wouldn't... call it remembering," he admitted. "I remember the fight that I lost." His shoulders relaxed. "I... she hit me with something that... burned my wings." His windy voice trailed off as he went ashen and curled closer to himself. "Straight to the bone. No, it was worse..." He brushed bangs of black hair off his brow. "She immolated them. Completely. Bones and all..."