Attel and Nev’eirys in the Ruins

In fact, every building was so empty that they were obviously picked clean. With the fabrics long since decayed, it was even hard to tell what was once a home and what was a library, laboratory, or anything else.

When the faenriin had left, they sure hadn’t done it haphazardly. That, or they’d made judicious use of their destruction magic.

“The faenriin sure seemed thorough when they left. It’s gonna be hard to find anything out when we can’t even tell what anything is.” I wandered into a large domed building big enough for dragons and devoid of all but a few ledges and platforms attached to the marble walls. “What is this place, for example?”

“I believe it’s a hatchery,” Nev’eirys said softly, placing his hand on a ledge; the bottom was charred pure black, probably from a fire that once burned below it and warmed little fire dragon eggs. “It appears to be combined with a hospital,” he noted, nodding to some marble platforms that could definitely once have been beds, spaced out enough that they could be separated by hanging curtains. “Perhaps it was a place for both faenriin and draconics to have their young.”

“Oh, yeah. I saw the one in central Eirenos. That would be why I didn’t recognize it from Ayaliis,” I chuckled, kneeling by a stream of remarkably clean water that still flowed through the marble basin. “There would usually be dragon eggs here, right? For little water dragons to be submerged in their element. Big ones down here, small ones on that ledge.” I stood back up, looking around the room. No eggs remained, nor even the little holders that I’d seen in the central Eirenos hatchery. “But even it’s picked clean. No vials or instruments or even drapes.”

“It’s likely that what few things remained were ransacked of anything that draconics would find valuable,” Nev’eirys said, running his hand along another ledge, probably for some other draconic aspect, long since run dry. “That would certainly include glass, manaweave, and other faenriin artifacts.”

“It’s true, then, that dragons hoard things?”

“All draconics, yes, but dragons most notably, since there is such a large population of traditionalists. Drakaryn are a relatively younger species, one that appeared after the formation of Eirenos. Very few are unassociated with Eirenos, and so they tend not to express hoarding behaviors to the same extent.”

“Is it just the traditionalists? I noticed that Teryth and Hali’teia had a little hoard, but Bennie has a massive lair and no valuables—well, besides books.”

“Bennie is a very special dragon,” Nev’eirys chuckled. “But yes. That is much due to the fact that hoarding was outlawed in Eirenos. It led to many…undesirable behaviors, most notably looting, attacking, and even killing other dragons to add their items to one’s hoard. Thus, the founders of Eirenos determined it was not a behavior that could be allowed in a peaceful city.”

“But you do still have some things. Almost all the draconics wear nice bangles and gems, and you use shiny metal tokens for a lot of things.”

“Yes, though these are far from the hoards that dragons like the Charion’arkoe and his Claws likely have. Tokens, for example, are gained and traded freely for services; in traditionalist society, they would be hoarded as a valuable in and of themselves.”

“And if someone runs out of tokens, they don’t get upset? Or aggressive, even?”

“Draconics tend to look after one another; Eirenosians, at least. Otherwise, the Drathyre oversees wealth distribution. Bennie works tirelessly to ensure that all citizens have enough wealth to express themselves through their preferred fabrics and jewels as well as partake in events and trade, all without encouraging negative behaviors such as hoarding.”

“Funny, it’s not so different in Ayaliis. Though it’s the Queen and King that decide who gets what. But since we can just create whatever we need, it’s more about them bestowing valuables and favors…which usually go to their favorites. So, it, uh, doesn’t really work out that well for most faenriin. I’m surprised the draconics agree to something like that.”

“They would agree to most things Bennie says, I think,” Nev’eirys chuckled. “Certainly, should she not be so popular—and just—I think they would have more problems with it. As much as we profess to be ‘beyond’ such ‘base desires’ such as hoarding, the truth is that many habits die hard. Draconics will always love their shiny things, and her policies are popular partially because they account for this.”

“You’re included in that,” I said, touching my fingertips to the barrettes tying his hair back . “Shiny thing here. And here.” I slid my hand down his chest, tracing his silver and mother of pearl brooch and the fine, silky fabric of his robes underneath.

“Yes,” he chuckled, his smile warm as he placed his hand on mine. “Me included.”

“You’ve always lived here, then? In Drakien, I mean.”

“Yes. My entire life, though only the last few decades in Eirenos.”

A thought came to me, and I curled my hand against his chest in excitement—and also just because I wanted to. “So, wait. Honestly, I always thought the whole Blessings of Amarynox and Caexeros thing was kind of dumb, but if—if—we assume it’s true…. Well, they’re faenriin gods. If you’ve never been to Faenrien, then maybe you never got their blessings.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s possible,” Nev’eirys replied, his voice slightly perkier.

“Hey, how old are you? You don’t think your parents were part of the faenriin expedition, do you?”

“No, I’m certain they weren’t.” His gaze fell, lingering on the hatching stream behind me. “I am between six and seven decades old; I do not know the exact year.”

He was my age, then. Which, given all those faenriin had apparently died a few hundred years ago, would make it pretty impossible for them to be his parents, indeed. But how else would a sole faenriin exist on Drakien?

“Do you remember your parents?” I asked.

“Perhaps we could talk about this another time,” he said, moving back so my hand fell from his chest, starting back to the half-collapsed archway of the hospital. “Why don’t we go back to the plaza? There was one last path we didn’t go down.”

Touchy topic, I guessed. I didn’t push it, just followed him out and back to the plaza.