Nivara hated lying.
She despised it with all of her being. Constantly taking day after day of Silvertongue potion just to stop herself from treading on eggshells she'd dare not break. If Ethros ever found out she'd deceived not just him, but everyone in the Excelliars they'd do more than kill her. They'd make her wish she'd never been born.
Nivara ran her hands through her partially wet hair, undone from its braid and rested her head on the desk. It was still late at night yet here she was unable to sleep thanks to the rush of questions plaguing her mind. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shirt, uncrossed her bare legs and planted them on the smooth, silvery stone before returning to her report. If sleep wouldn't come she'd just have to keep herself occupied until it did.
"Appearances are everything." Nivara said, repeating a small line of the motto all Excelliars strived to achieve.
Nivara eyes drifted towards the quill that she had been given when she joined the Excelliars sat idly by, in pristine shape but never used. Summoning her grimoire with a simple thought, it emerged in front of her on the desk as if it had never left. She smiled briefly, running her hand across the spine where blues ebbed and flowed into a deep indigo before being immersed by it entirely and slammed open the white, empty pages. Nothing could change. Not yet.
With a sad sigh, Nivara pricked her finger against the sharp corner and allowed the small bead of reddish blue blood to fall, marking the page as her own before she finally began to write. The words came at a blistering pace, everything she had learnt up to now lead out in a mess of notes and unbroken paragraphs, some leading seamlessly into the next but all arose the same unreachable question.
What was this all for?
There were too many unknown variables, too many half truths and missing pieces to figure out the mysteries. Especially the appearances of these Abnormal grimoires had conjured up within this hell forsaken world. She mostly knew who and what but why? Why go through all this effort with such an unreachable goal? An unknowable question plagued her mind as she bit her lip, resting her head back against the silky material of her cloak.
"The Mist Maidens?" she questioned, leaning forward to write down any more theories she could think of.
A growl echoed around the small room nearest the entrance, shrouded in a layer of impenetrable Trait. It protected more than a few secrets and prevented any eavesdroppers in case those who scuttled past her door thought it a good idea to listen in on her. There was only one spy allowed in the Opalace and that vacancy had already been filled. By her Oathed.
An emerald green dragon no bigger than a plant pot clung to the edge of her windowsill, the window open barely ajar as the slow plodding raindrops continued to drift down the glass, the storm reaching its last, drawn out stage of execution.
"I can't believe you made me keep watch on that blundering idiot while you slunk away nice and dry in here! Do you know how hard it is to get soil out from under my scales?"
Nivara sighed, ignoring the self centred Talonslash for a moment as she tried to think of the next sentence for her report. The ink flitted lazily from side to side, following the traces of her movements just a few inches above the page. Despite her colleagues knowledge of only being able to use her Trait as mist, the versatility of Water Traited never ceased to amaze her.
"I take it the rain helped, then?" She said at last, finishing the page with a quick flick of her wrist.
The dragon laughed halfheartedly rolling her eyes before shaking her scales free of water right near the Mist Maiden before gliding right onto the edge of her chair. Nivara froze the spray in midair, her hand splayed open as she lazily flung them back at her sabotaging partner. The Talonslash hissed angrily, unable to dodge being soaked again.
"Ruddy Water Traited aim!" the dragon hissed, retreating towards a nearby set of shelves.
Nivara chuckled, setting her grimoire aside at last. It dissolved into thin air, returning to the void of Nivara's Trait awaiting to be summoned once again.
"I thought a Talonslash could cut through any Trait?" Nivara jeered, delighted to see the green dragons smug smile falter.
Turning towards her desk she gently brushed her hand against the variety of ornaments adorning her desk. The most noticeable was her treasured blue dragon mask, carved in the shape of a Sea Screamers maw, a deadly two headed dragon known for its dual personality and unbeatable coordination of water and lightning. A perfect symbol for a Mist Maiden with nothing left to lose.
"Pfft. Obviously not your crazy Trait. It's better than being a hoarder of useless crap. Why do you need that stuff anyways? Thought you wanted to keep suspicion away?" The dragon continued, rolling her eyes at her partners antics.
Her mask held pride of place on a stand nearest the wall, no nicks or blemishes present in such a prized possession. Every object in her room was immaculate to the point of obsession, exactly as it should be. Being near the walls allowed the arkalite stone to keep it charged of Trait in case she had to use it as a last resort. It was impossible to remove unless intended by the user and was made from the toughest of dragon scales. Only the strongest of Trait could counteract the protection of the Light.
"Everyone has a hobby, Kaldra. Mine is making sure things are in order. From my desk, to every little item I feel is necessary to have in my room, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem." Nivara said, realigning her chair against the wall as she moved silently out of her chair and towards the shelves nearest her.
The Talonslash harrumphed, hovering over to her spot at the foot of Nivara's bed to make herself comfortable. Nivara paid her no mind, turning towards her row of floating glass baubles above shelves and shelves of countless books and journals. Running her hands across the spines she selected a book out of its slot and skimmed the page, setting the book back onto the desk beside it for later use.
The glass orbs shone dully, some brighter than others in a variety of colours. Reds, blues and greens caught her attention until finally, one flickered a bright sky blue. Nivara smiled, remembering how the very same vial was used to trap Kamikaze's lightning. Thankfully, Nivara had drained it with her Trait a few days ago. It was much more important than anyone had ever thought possible.
She picked it up with the palm of her hand and lightly tossed it into the air. Kaldra let out a screech of horror as her mist Trait surrounded it instantaneously, cocooning it in a cloud of protection.
"What-" Kaldra began, only for Nivara to place a finger on her lips, silencing her for just a moment.
The mist covered orb began to elongate as it changed from blue to a bright green and finally an ever encompassing indigo, revealing the glass orbs true form. The hourglass hung in midair, slowly spinning as ebbs of time and mist flickered to show countless images of the past, present and future all strung together by a power that not even Trait could compare to.
"What IS that?" Kaldra said, leaning up on her haunches, mesmerised by what she was seeing.
Nivara could barely contain her excitement, grinning from ear to ear as she bounced on the balls of her feet. The mist began to swell into one continuous loop of colour, twirling and changing to suit the endless stormy backdrop it had created. The slow droplets of rain outside had now increased to an overwhelming force shearing through the buffeting winds against the flimsy glass of the window.
"It's a Storm Key. One of the last great artifacts from Shuriken."
Kaldra's eyes went wide at the thought of such a beautiful thing associated with now the desolate lands ravaged by demons. The dying storm had been rejuvenated by tumultuous thunder attempting to send its wrath throughout the lands. It was the stuff of nightmares but it was necessary to use such a powerful card in their arsenal.
"So, that thing was the reason you could store Lightning Trait in it?"
Nivara nodded, sending a little less Trait through it as it glowed indigo once again. Kaldra growled warily at the scenes it was showing. From the slums of Opalis right the way to Pelt, to the edge of Beggars End and even the surrounding walls of the Opalace. It showed everything and everyone in a matter of seconds.
A small black dragon was fighting hard against an endless landslide of earth as a cluster of people above stood by seemingly out of harm's way. A brown haired woman took refuge from the storm, placing another log in a well worn fire as she scanned the room for any signs of a cigarette to calm her nerves. The mist flickered.
A shining white dragon remained by its masters side, their otherworldly presence piercing the veil between the dead and the living. A long blond haired woman fought against the rising storm, winds buffeting the young boy hoisted on her shoulders, dirty rags clung to their rain stung skin only to be discarded for shining golden armour as a volley of sword wielding ruffians closed in on them. White clad soldiers stayed steadfast at their posts as all manner of creatures swept through the night, Truants leaping and devouring scraps of rubbish only to turn on unsuspecting drunkards with a taste for reckless abandonment of Trait. It harnessed the storm to show every Traited that it came across and more.
"I hid it in the storehouse along with the other Trait made vials but Jester almost stole it. I had no choice but to move it here." Nivara's voice hardened at the thought, annoyed by that foolish Regents attempts at taking what rightfully belonged to Shuriken.
Despite its current state, Shuriken was still a country. A country with its own people, history, culture and Trait. But they had been torn away from all in an instant, left for dead in a world divided by a barrier which never should have been created. Now those lucky enough to survive the destruction remained on the outskirts of Opalis, within the slums that had once been promised to be nothing more than a bad dream. They took refuge in backwater places like Pelt and Torn, traded what they could in Axis until finally, their wares became useful only in the black markets of the Bolthole.
"So, all the scouting you had me do last week was for this Storm Key and you hide it in plain sight?" Kaldra said, irritated she was used for such a mission when this doohickey did her job for her.
Nivara felt a pang of regret, casting the hourglass away from her for a moment. Fiddling with the hem of her shirt sleeves, she grabbed her cloak from the side of her chair and wrapped it in her arms. She should have noticed it before. Kaldra, her dragon who had flown miles just to complete a daily reconnaissance mission was shivering from tail to tip.
"No, my Oathed. Of course not. I would never risk this thing in exchange for you. I got this so you don't have to go flying so much anymore." She said kindly, trying to remind her of all the help the dragon had been.
Kaldra's claws skittered against the pristine floors, leaving no much as a scratch on the heated tiles. Nivara sat herself down beside her dragon, gently draping her beloved cloak around her.
"Anyways, the best place to hide an inconspicuous object is in a mundane place." Nivara said, silently berating herself about not looking after her Oathed.
She should have known the Light Trait stored within the stone wouldn't have worked on a Talonslash. Their deadly sharp scales cut through any Trait, visible or not but only when they were awake enough to realise it. Kaldra must've been exhausted but not tired enough to stop bickering.
"So? A dragon is supposed to fly, remember?" Kaldra said, her voice slightly muffled by the swathes of cobalt silk.
Nivara rolled her eyes, gently rubbing her dragons scales, thankful for the nullifying properties in her Everchange cloak. It only lasted for a little while but it was enough for her to help Kaldra get a little dryer.
"The Storm Key helps show those affected by the storm and increases its power and potency. Think of it as a widespread Predictor Trait harnessed by a storm."
To prove her point further, Nivara let her mist ebb away from the Storm Key as the focus of the storm lessened slightly, showing only one image at a time. The mist clung to her fingertips, tickling her hand before she returned it to the main storm cloud connecting the hourglass and the weather teeming with strength outside once again.
"So, I take it this Storm Key only seems to work if a storm is present. You won't be able to use it for much longer. You're already drained from keeping it going this long. Do you not think you're overdoing it?"
Despite her vanity, Kaldra actually had a very good head on her shoulders. She helped pick out the flaws in any plan whether it was dealing with unruly Traited or figuring out ancient markings deep in caverns and crypts in Caldor. It was a shame she did it so bluntly.
"I have to. Otherwise, Ethros will always be one step ahead of me." Nivara admitted, her determination overlapping her tendency to tell only half truths.
Kaldra groaned in annoyance, pushing the Everchange cloak away from her, ruffling her scales indignantly to make herself seem bigger. She wasn't happy. Nivara didn't want to risk telling her the full story but even if she could detect lies, her small amount of Predictor Trait couldn't outmatch a Throneholders visions. Kaldra was a fighter, not a schemer and being cooped up inside night after night was not doing her any favours.
"I have five days to find out what we need using the Storm Key. I need to convince Ethros of my loyalty and keep my position as both the Sixth Order leader and the Excelliars Regent." Nivara reiterated, reminding her dragon of their long term goal in this world.
Kaldra hummed, flicking her tail back and forth as she thought to herself. Lying on the ground, she batted the cloak away impatiently, settling herself against the glowing surface. Nivara pulled the cloak over her legs, leaning back against the wall unsure of how to continue while her Oathed processed everything she knew so far. If only she had started with explaining Ethros' predicament.
"That won't be easy. I understand why you'd want the Mediators away from the situation. But why are you still clinging onto the Excelliars? Your business with them is over, you could dedicate your time to the Order and-"
"No. I can't, I won't. Not now. Not when we're so close." Nivara said, desperately trying to get her to understand.
Kaldra scoffed, her tail slamming against the wall in annoyance. She stared up at Nivara, her hardened nature overwhelming her curiosity.
"Don't tell me you feel sorry for them?" She asked, the derision clear in her voice.
Nivara looked down bashfully, her cheeks tinged red with embarrassment.
"No, but Ethros…" she began, just as Kaldra stood up from her position, fangs flaring in anger.
"But Ethros nothing! His Oathed made her choice to get cursed when she did what she did. She caused all this mess and it's up to us to fix it!" Kaldra roared, her voice getting louder with every word.
Nivara hands balled into fists, the storm rolling with thunder, lightning streaked the sky. She didn't understand. Kaldra never understood when it came to others. She cared only about herself.
"I know that! But, he's in pain. He's not thinking like a leader, he's thinking like, like…" she hesitated and Kaldra made herself bigger just to prove a point.
"An Oathed." Kaldra said, spitefully knowing full well the situation he was in.
"Yes. Exactly. Just like you should be." Nivara said coldly, reminding her that being Oathed was not always a bad thing.
Kaldra let out a puff of smoke, frustrated at her partners foolish stubbornness. She stood up and paced across the blindingly white stone, turning away from her as she angrily slashed her tail against the floor. She was now the size of a small dog, anger caused her to increase her size and it was anger that fuelled through both the headstrong females.
Nivara took a deep breath, settling her shaking hands as she pulled the discarded cloak around her legs. She wasn't angry. She wasn't. She was frustrated. Aggravated, maybe. But not angry with her Oathed. Never angry. She couldn't afford to be angry in a situation like this but Kaldra didn't make it any easier. Yes, she cared but she had a funny way of showing it.
"It might not be a lie, Ness. But I know when you're hiding behind a mask. Your hands shake, you blink a lot and by hell do your spindly legs quiver." Kaldra said, looking up at her with a glint in her eye.
Nivara bit back a response, attempting to rein back her unruly Trait. It did not like being called out like that. The Storm Key whirred in retaliation, spinning on its axis ever faster despite the storm remaining a morose grey.
"Don't call me that, Kal. You know damn well what that pitiful name stands for. I left that life a long time ago." Nivara said, her words tinged with frost.
"Aye, it's the name of my Oathed. Her real name. Not the name of another, a liar, a pretender who won't stop until they erase every ounce of who they are!" Kaldra roared, baring her teeth, her head raised in indignation.
"You know nothing, Kaldrarion Silvertongue."
Kaldra sprung furiously at her Oathed, barreling Nivara into her precious collection of shelves, books scattering like flies as the Mist Maiden struggled to keep the glass from hitting the floor, her mist clinging and flinging each one of her prized possessions onto the desk instead. Everything was out of place. Now Nivara was angry.
"Your family created the potion I force myself to use every day! You have no right to question me of my intentions-"
Kaldra slashed at her cloak, roaring at the lies her Oathed was spouting. The Talonslash narrowed her eyes, fury laced in every movement as she grew bigger and bigger within mere seconds. Nivara tried to reason with her, hands up in mock surrender but it was no use.
Nivara longed for her mask, her Trait weapon, anything to stop this rampaging dragon from tearing her room apart. She slammed her fist into Kaldra's gut, Nivara's face covered in small cuts and bruises but still determined to fight on regardless. With a last burst of sheer rage, Kaldra bit back a half baked response enough to stop her Oathed dead in her tracks.
"Just as you have no right to question my ancestors of theirs, you filthy Caldorian!"
The Storm Key reacted to Nivara's shock, hovering in midair, overexerting itself before plummeting to the ground. Nivara flung tendrils of weak mist at it to try and lessen the blow but it deflected it with a surge of her own residual Trait, now no more than a puff of smoke.
Kaldra lunged for the Key but slipped on the Everchange cloak, her claws skimming the edge of the artifact just enough to sever what Trait was stored within. Nivara used that chance to dive towards the Storm Key, cushioning it with as much mist as she could. Only for it to slip through at the last second.
Nivara stared at her hands, stunned despite the shards of glass shattering into her path. Everything was in slow motion. Her Trait had stopped working when she needed it the most. Kaldra soared to protect her, shoving her out of the way as the Storm Key smashed into the ground, scattering the Talonslash with a myriad of Trait induced daggers, slicing straight through her scales.
"Kaldra!" Nivara screamed, her hands splintering as she struggled to pull of her cloak.
Her breathing came quick and fast. Storm Key be damned. She was going to help her dragon even if it killed her. Finally discarding her cloak she pulled it away from the injured dragon, blood steadily trickling out from scales Nivara didn't know the Talonslash had. Nivara shut her eyes tight, the sight almost made her vomit but with every shaky breath she took, another laboured breath followed.
"Ness...ra…"
Nivara's blood went cold.
She gulped, shaking her hair free of any shards of mistaken Storm Key shards and carefully gave herself the once over, careful not to move the precious bundle in her arms. Her cloak had taken most of the explosion, silently thankful that her long term mist Trait soundproofing the room was still intact. She'd have no chance explaining this to Ethros, Silvertongue or not.
"It's me, Kallie. I'm right here." Nivara said, softly.
Kaldra murmured quietly, groaning weakly before settling back into the void of unconsciousness. Nivara's heart lurched in pain, gripping the ends of the bundled up cloak in a vain attempt to calm herself. There was no other choice. If she couldn't use her mist Trait to heal Kaldra, she'd have to use a different part of her Trait. One she hadn't used in years.
"Mist can't fix this. I've got to, I've got to try."
Nivara clicked her fingers, summoning her indigo grimoire in a blur of Trait. Except, it wasn't indigo anymore. For the first time in years it was a deep, cobalt blue. Its pages opened wide as it washed away the indigo in an instant, gilded in a soft golden inlay giving way to the sea of pages, endless and strong but still not enough to contain her Trait.
Nivara's hands shook over the top of the book, reaching for something which she knew existed but hadn't had the courage to search for until now. She closed her eyes, her breathing getting steadily slower as she slowly flicked through the pages, continuing to search through a grimoire that was familiar yet strange to her. Detecting Trait was a difficult skill in the best of times but the passage of time never forgot. She'd need only ask.
"I-"she began, her voice faltering as she felt her dragons weak pulse beneath her. "I seek the truth!"
The grimoire flashed a halo of sky blue light around her, a halo of endless sea and sand before changing to chilling winds and snow. Nivara's hand instinctively moved upwards, allowing the long, thin beam of light to rise up to greet her hand, grasping it tight.
The grimoire slammed shut, allowing the fully formed staff to burst through her Trait, shrouded in a coat of frost despite the silvery wood shining through like cobwebs. It had been hewn from the very trees that gave Opalis its name, inky blue sparks emanated from every twig and crevice but to those who disregarded the Caldorian legends it was nothing more than an overgrown log. But it was Nivara's Trait weapon. The Tempest Staff.
"Please." She muttered, sliding Kaldra carefully onto the cooling stones. "I need this to work."
Slipping the cloak bundle gently off her lap, she unraveled it slowly to allow Kaldra to rest on the floor, the Everchange cloak set aside to allow Trait to flow freely through her dragon, warming her as it emanated a soft green glow. Nivara could sense the underlying Predictor Trait within the shards of glass, miniscule but thanks to her staff she could pinpoint each individual strand of the broken Storm Key.
Nivara had to use what she had. The Storm Key while shattered was still connected to her storm. Tempering the glass embedded in her Oathed along with using her own abilities was risky enough but the variety of Water Traited procedures needed would require a massive amount of concentration. But it would work. Hells above she would make it so.
Nivara rested her Tempest staff across her knees, the flickering of Trait from within the glass coaxed her to continue her plan. With both hands placed on Kaldra, she closed her eyes and reached for the storm with her mind, a humming beacon of strength as slowly but surely the shards began to vibrate. Nivara ordered the Storm Key to speed up time, inch by inch, second by second the glass became molten and threatened to seep into the dragon's bloodstream.
Nivara clenched her fists, the heat rising from her dragon gradually cooled as the flecks of blood began to freeze just enough to stop her from being poisoned. With a grunt of exertion, Nivara reined back the storm along with the three Traits, the Storm Key lessening its grip on its discarded container as time flowed normally. Nivara wrenched her staff away from her, just as the molten glass began to sift into the air above her partners still form.
Her arms shuddered from the weight, uncurling her hands like a snail emerging from its shell, achingly slow as she begged the Laia that all the glass was out. In a last ditch attempt, Nivara cupped her hands over themselves as Kaldra's blood began to flow, free from its frosty prison a few seconds later. She wasn't done yet.
With one hand clasping control of the now midair molten Storm Key, she splayed her right hand out wide. The blood seeping from Kaldra's wound halted, forming a small series of scabs as Nivara closed her fingers together.
Her left hand was getting numb, her back screaming with pain as fatigue threatened to overtake her but the Water Traited stayed strong.
"Mist Maiden be damned." She swore, forcing the glass to hover over the shelves.
With as much grace as a dancing slug, Nivara let go of the vastly changed Storm Key as it splashed into a nearby Trait vial. It cooled instantly, hardening into a mass of congealed slag. Nivara roared in anguish, half collapsing next to Kaldra. There was still blood everywhere but she didn't care. She had done all she could.
"Please, Kaldra. Stay with me. Just a bit...longer."
The storm rumbled ominously, reflecting flashes of the images the duo had seen only moments ago. A single flash of lightning streaked through the sky. The remains of the Storm Key glowed a sky blue, causing Nivara's Trait to dissolve the staff and her grimoire in a shock of indigo light. Nivara curled up against the resting dragon, her cloak now covering them both as they slept soundly. They were together, just like Oathed partners were meant to be.
The Storm Key hourglass sat on the shelf, newly reformed but still dormant as somewhere in Axis, a black grimoire flickered with sky blue Trait.