#Clan Ilnmyr

[alexius-fr]

Chapter two

@lindwur-fr @mask-fr @indulg3nce-fr @kagira-fr @slighteyewing ( @khadjin-fr im sorry it doesnt seem to want to ping you!) If you’re not on the list for pings but want to be, let me know! 

A few weeks passed and Murdoch adapted to life with a new child quickly, as he had raised many children in the past, and Azar wasn't all that different from a normal hatchling. Apart from the excessive grooming and horn maintenance he needed, that was.

The first week Azar got a lot of inquisitive looks from the others, but he was quickly accepted and the other Ancients also took a liking to him, apart from Kael. Kael was never much of a fan of children however, and he was being very good about the time that Azar inevitably consumed, cutting into Murdoch's time to meet with the council and rule the keep.

Kael was Murdoch's secondant, the aspect of Death and Shadows that took care of any and all threats before they became too large a problem. Murdoch often referred to him as the shadow behind the throne, something Kael always rejected with a smile.

When Murdoch woke up that morning it was to Kael's impatient voice behind the door.

“Murdoch, you missed the meeting again!”

Murdoch groaned but didn't lift his head immediately, still feeling tired from the night. Azar had kept him up until far later than his usual bedtime and he was experiencing the drawback fully.

“Murdoch?” Kael asked, the door opening.

“Yeah- come in, I guess.” Murdoch yawned widely, feeling something resist the movement in his beard, Azar squeaking offendedly at being woken up like this. Although Azar understood a lot of words now, he still communicated mostly in squeaks and noises. But some words were starting to become routine, like 'Food!', 'Play!', 'Yes' and 'No!', the latter being by far the most common.

Kael entered, holding an account of what had been discussed during the meeting, laying it down on Murdoch's desk for later.

“How is the little one?” Kael asked, his voice no longer annoyed, but interested instead. Kael was always pretending to be cross with Murdoch, but most of their relationship consisted of good natured teasing and Murdoch liked his brother a great deal.

“Thank you, Kael. Azar is doing well, although I suspect he will want food in the very near future.” Murdoch stretched and shook lazily before walking over to his desk and reading through the document with sleep-thick eyes.

Azar had caught on to Kael's presence and stormed him enthusiastically in order to greet him with an affectionate rub. Azar was now almost the same size as Kael, and Kael struggled to stay on his feet during this genuine assault of adoration and lots and lots of fur. His expression was one of endurance and patience but an equal measure of displeasure. It always made Murdoch laugh.

“Get him away from me please.” Kael stated in a monotone voice.

“Azar, leave your uncle alone.” Murdoch muttered while reading through the document, Azar drooping his ears in response, but listening none the less.

“What's this about an unidentified group of dragons being signalled in the north of the Southern Icefields?” Murdoch asked, Kael straightening his feathers with dignity.

“It's exactly what it says. My scouts could not come close enough to them to identify them. They do think that the group is head our way, though. And they are scared, Murdoch.” “Your scouts, scared?” Murdoch frowned with disbelief.

“They describe them to me as giants with terrible horns, lead by a dragon that embodies the winter itself. His footsteps leave frost on the ground, and if you look him directly in the eye you'll freeze.” Kael sounded more than a little sceptical, but then again he always did. Murdoch mulled it over in his head but was quickly distracted by Azar, who stood in between his front legs, looked up with playful eyes and wiggled his body as his tail swept from side to side.

“Alright, alright, you'll get food in a minute.” Murdoch assured him, Azar smiling happily.  

“Do you believe those rumours?” Murdoch asked, turning to Kael. “Not even a little.” Kael rolled his eyes. “Ordinary dragons are scared easily. I wouldn't take them too seriously.” “What of Basalt?” Murdoch asked. Basalt was Kael's right hand and overseer of his spy network.

“He's doubtful, but he has not seen the dragons himself.” Kael replied with honesty. “I'll order him to have a look for himself, we need a more clear description before we can take action.” “Agreed.” Murdoch nodded. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. I'll take care of it. Seems you have more urgent matters to attend to.” Kael frowned when he saw Azar attempt to pull Murdoch along to the kitchens by dragging him by the tail with his mouth. Murdoch chuckled and freed his tail with a simple swift motion, nodding gratefully to Kael.

“Yes, so it would seem. I will see you for dinner, then.”

“May the deities protect you.” Kael bowed shortly and then left, leaving Murdoch with Azar as they made their way to the kitchen.

-- 

They didn't hear about the group of dragons again for a few weeks, and Murdoch had too many things on his mind to really concern himself with something that might not even be true, so he focused on teaching Azar, who was progressing leaps and bounds with his draconic and physical training. He progressed far faster than Murdoch had expected, and he couldn't be more proud of his son. Azar grew into young adulthood, now considerably larger than Kael but nowhere near as big as Murdoch yet. He had long, clumsy limbs and his shaggy fur wouldn't stay down no matter how much he groomed himself. But the biggest change were his horns, that had started growing sporadically and seemed to take no direction in particular. 

Those weeks turned into months, and the peace had perhaps made Murdoch complacent, because when Kael stormed in during that morning lesson of draconic with a panicked look on his face, Murdoch was caught off guard.

“Murdoch- They-” Kael panted and looked dishivelled. It was odd to see his usually calm and collected brother be this urgent, and Murdoch knew this was a serious situation immediately.

“What is it, brother? Take a deep breath and explain.” Murdoch said, leaving the lessons for what they were, approaching Kael. Azar followed, curious as always.

“They're coming. The group of dragons we saw, a few months ago. They're heading to the keep as we speak. I saw them. I didn't want to believe it but- I saw them, Murdoch. They're not like the dragons we know. They're like- like him!” Kael pointed at Azar, Azar flinching at the hiss Kael produced. Murdoch stepped in between on instinct, giving Kael a reprimanding look.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Have they expressed hostility?”

“No. They haven't expressed anything.” Kael shook his head, slowly coming down from his shock and backing out of his aggressive stance. “They're marching toward the keep and they won't stop for anything. They haven't spoken a word and straight up ignored the guards trying to stop them. I ordered the guard to let them through lest anyone gets hurt.” Kael sighed and fussed with his feathers nervously. 

“Well done. Have them guard the wall and the courtyard and let's go out to meet them. Where are Rye and Liv?” Murdoch asked, getting ready to go outside and meet a potential threat.

“They're mobilizing as well. Rye was adamant we prepare for battle but you know Liv, she wouldn't hurt a fly.” Kael scoffed. “She'll be the death of us with her passiveness.”

“Now is not the time for such concerns, brother.” Murdoch said, sharply. “Let us focus on the threat at hand. I will see you in the courtyard.”

“As you say.” Kael bowed his head and with a last suspicious look at Azar, left the room.

“Can I come?” Azar asked, while Murdoch donned his armour. “Kael said they look like me. I want to see them!” “No, Azar. It's too dangerous.” Murdoch shook his head. “If they are here to attack us I can't be responsible for your safety. Stay here. Watch from the window if you must, but do not go out to the courtyard until told otherwise, do you understand?”

“Yes father.” Azar nodded obediently, but the shimmer of rebellion was lost beneath his excess manes, so Murdoch did not see it as he turned around.

“Good lad. I'll be back soon. If they do turn out to be hostile, remember the-” “-the escape hatch behind the painting. Yes dad.” Azar assured him.

“I shouldn't have asked, you're always such a clever boy.” Murdoch smiled with no small amount of pride. “I will see you soon.” “Good luck.” Azar nodded, and then Murdoch was gone, the door closing behind him.

Azar sighed, dissapointed but also feeling restless. What if those dragons really looked like him? He'd always been curious as to why he didn't look like his father, but Murdoch would never speak of it other than the fact that he found him as an egg and didn't know who his actual parents were. Azar sat silently at the window that overlooked the courtyard, seeing his father walk out onto the oval square and the rest of the ancients bow to him.

He didn't want to stay here, behind the stained glass windows, hidden. He wanted to see the strange dragons up close. His head and his heart battled furiously and Azar didn't notice he'd held his breath until he emitted a deep sigh.

And then the doors of the keep opened.

[alexius-fr]

Council of Ilnmyr – Chapter one

(Please note, my lore concept was in the works before FR introduced Ancient breeds, but for clarity, The ‘old’ dragons are now in the role of Modern Ancients and Gaolers and every other Ancient breed that is henceforth released shall be referred to as True Ancients in my stories.) 

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Murdoch let the smell of rain on the stones enter his nostrils on this autumn morning, the grey skies above him pouring with water from the heavens. The ancient's conclave was quiet this time of day, the sun behind the clouds only just rising over the sea.

The conclave was in reality an ancient keep, built and abandoned by those who came before, in reverence of the Eleven, on what was then neutral grounds. These days their keep stood on the southern borders of the Arcane flight's territory, but the area was out of the way of the trade routes and thus wasn't overly crowded. Not that the gates weren't open to those seeking guidance, as that was the main purpose of the Modern Ancients these days.

Modern Ancient dragons were dragons blessed by the deities themselves. Only four Modern Ancients existed at present, each embodying different aspects. Murdoch embodied War and Valour, and stood at the head of the Council of Ancients with his brother and two sisters. Their role was to stand guard against threats that concerned  dragonkind, and to convey the will of the deities through the worshipping of their shrines. Once, they also guarded the lore of old, but much of that has worn away with time and was forgotten, even by those who lived to see it. Together the conclave ruled over the keep and the surrounding lands, their gates open to weary travelers and pilgrims from the furthest regions of the world.

This morning didn't exactly beg many visitors however, so the Keep was all quiet. A fine morning for some training excersizes. Murdoch opened the great doors of the Ancients' Keep, intending to cross the courtyard and head towards the arena, but halfway through the circular courtyard he noticed something quivering in a dark corner, attempting to hide but catching Murdoch's eye none the less.

When he approached he saw a trembling ball of fur, hidden away in one of the chapel alcoves that were built all around the courtyard. At first he thought it was a small tundra dragon, but upon closer inspection, its horns looked different, more gnarled, and the fur was thicker, messier than on any tundra he had ever seen.

“Hey there little one, are you alright?” Murdoch stepped closer, the little furball snapping it's tiny head up to look at him. Bright red eyes peered up into his, surrounded by pools of darkness, with only a small dot for pupils. Murdoch froze and looked closer at the hatchling, that was still sticky with membrane from its egg.

He'd never seen anything like this strange dragon, that was still shivering, either with fear or cold or perhaps both.

“Can you speak?” Murdoch asked, but immediately realized he was a fool to ask. It had only just hatched, after all. The hatchling blinked slowly and then let loose a squeak, trying to stand. Murdoch reached for it, the hatchling so small compared to his claws he was very ginger when he picked it up and brought it to his face. The hatchlings nails clawed into his scales, fearful of falling. It squealed frightfully and tried to hide in its own fur.

“It's alright, little one. Let's get you inside.” Murdoch smiled comfortingly and carefully carried the child back inside, to his private quarters where he sat it in front of the fire to warm up. While keeping one eye on the hatchling he sought through the books he had in his room for a clue to what this dragon might be. He had an extensive personal library, stacked in huge bookcases along the walls of his chambers, but there didn't appear to be any record of a dragon like it, at least not here.

He was interrupted in his search, feeling something tickling on his left leg. When he looked down he saw the hatchling, rubbing up to his ankles like a cat, while making a small peeping noise, not unlike a baby chicken.

“What is it?” Murdoch brought his head down, not really knowing why because he knew the hatchling would not answer, but he still felt compelled to turn his attention to it.

A communicative squeak and a wide open mouth alerted Murdoch to the fact the hatchling probably needed sustenance. He scooped it back up, put it on his back and took it to the kitchens, the hatchling seeming more secure on its feet now, looking around with wide eyes. It appeared mostly recovered from its ordeal outside, warmed up and its fur no longer wet, though it was still slightly shaggy. It felt very warm on Murdoch's back, the long fur bristling over his scales.

He got a few leftovers from the kitchen, mushing them to small pieces so the hatchling could eat it. The little one picked through the food and seemed to prefer the meat and the plants Murdoch had given him, though it did curiously sniff at the fish and the insects too. Murdoch wasn't going to force the issue, he was just glad that it appeared to be doing well, eating it's little heart out.

He sat and watched it eat, mesmerized by the tiny dragon, that seemed to have more fur than it could possibly ever need. With some reluctance he realized that he should really bring it to their orphanage, so it could be raised amongst other dragons, but found himself not wanting to. He was curious about this little one, that was so different from any other dragon he'd ever seen.

The hatchling was done eating and purred contently as it strutted towards Murdoch with a wobbly stride. Murdoch chuckled and lowered his head, out of instict more than anything, the hatchling rubbing fondly against his jaw. If he hadn't known for sure before that point, he knew it now. He wasn't going to take this hatchling to the orphanage. He would raise it as his own.

All he needed now was a name for the hatchling, wracking his brain as he brought the hatchling back to his room, where it curled up in Murdoch's nesting space as if it owned it. Murdoch smiled and laid down next to it as he heard the keep outside finally come to life. It'd only been an hour since he found this little thing, but the connection he felt to it was real, and seemed much older than an hour.

“Azar.” Murdoch mumbled, thoughtfully. That would be its name. The hatchling yawned and made a soft peeping noise, almost as if in approval before resting its head on Murdoch's claw. Yes, Azar was a good name. A powerful name. Befitting of a child of the Ancients.

[alexius-fr]

@lindwur-fr @mask-fr @kagira-fr @slighteyewing @indulg3nce-fr 

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Chapter 1 Chapter 2

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Azar's heart pounded loudly in his chest, both from the exhillaration of disobeying his father's orders and from the anticipation of the arrival of the strange dragons. His long legs carried him over the cold marble flooring, his curved nails clacking through the empty halls. He had to be incredibly careful, stay out of sight of everybody. Good thing he knew this keep like the back of his antlers. He took an old escape route from the kitchen, that lead to a small alcove in the courtyard, which was hidden from view by the ancient willow tree that had stood guard over the keep for centuries. Hiding in the tall bushes surrounding the willow, Azar took position and waited quietly. The doors of the keep were open, all four Ancients looking at the entrance with tension.

Azar knew them all well. They were his family, his father Murdoch, his two aunts Rye and Liv, and his uncle Kael. But he'd never seen them this cautious. Almost fearful, the air around them becoming dark as the clouds grouped above them. Azar breathed as quietly as possible, the tension palpable. Other ancients gathered at the sides, but Azar did not know any of them besides Gwyndall, the commander of the army who was also his combat trainer.

Azar didn't remember seeing the visitor enter, but suddenly, a chill rolled over the courtyard and his whole body shivered. His eyes snapped to the entrance, where a true mountain of a dragon stood. White as snow, with blotches of the same gray as the clouds, it's fur translucent in places, the skeleton beneath shining through. Azar shivered, and not just because he was cold. He regretted his decision to disobey his father's orders and wished he could be back inside, safely behind the windows.

The giant dragon started moving slowly, every step calculated yet self assured. Azar couldn't breathe, the courtyard was so quiet someone would surely hear him. Every dragon present was on their guard, closely watching the visitor, who seemed undisturbed by their hisses and growls as he passed with his head held high. When the dragon passed the tree Azar caught a glimpse of it's eyes, glowing pure white with snowflakes gently falling from them. Like beautiful, soft tears. Azar's fear ebbed slowly as the dragon approached the four Ancients in the middle and lightly bowed it's massive head, the antlers moving with it. Azar realized Kael had been correct. This dragon did look like him. What could this mean?

“Peace, strangers. My name is Izotz.” the dragon's voice rang out and was just as booming as you'd expect from a dragon his size. It was clear as crystal and Azar got the chills again.

“Peace, traveler. I am Murdoch, I'm in charge of this keep. These are my brother and sisters, Kael, Liv and Rye.” Murdoch nodded at them as he introduced them. “What is your purpose here?” “We seek the First.” Izotz replied. “We feel his presence.”

“I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.” Murdoch replied truthfully. “And what do you mean; 'We'?”

Izotz looked over his shoulder and gestured at a group of others, that looked just like him. At the head of the group stood another white dragon, with antlers so wildly shaped Azar couldn't have made them up if he tried. There were about six of them, with one younger dragon as well. Azar couldn't keep his eyes off of them. They really looked like him! They were like him! He wasn't the only one!

“These are my brothers and sisters, we awakened after we felt the Icefather's call. We were to find the First, the Herald of the new age.” the dragon with snowy eyes said.

“There is no herald here.” Kael insisted sternly.

“We know he is here.” Izotz denied Kael's statement.

“Show him to us or we will tear this place apart brick by brick.” the white dragon at Izotz's side demanded. She snarled to affirm her point. She was tall, and her chest and shoulders looked muscular, with several scars over them. Truth be told she scared Azar more than Izotz did. Izotz was like the willow tree he was hiding under, ancient, gentle and a bit sad. But she was more primal and wild, untamed and she would not be denied.

“Harven, calm yourself.” Izotz hushed. “My apologies, this is my sister, Harven. She is very passionate.” “So I see.” Murdoch said, with no small amount of care. “I assure you ma'am, that you would not get further than this courtyard if you intended to try and force this issue.” Murdoch warned her, and Azar could tell he was serious.

Harven’s expression was hard to determine, but she eventually nodded, Azar thought with respect.

“I hear you, Lord Murdoch.” she said. “Rest assured, such is not my intention. Yet.”

“I'm glad to hear it.” Murdoch said, not hiding his sarcasm. Kael smirked, but this hadn't actually solved anything. If anything, tension was rising, and Azar saw the gathered ancients around them become increasingly more hostile. Izotz, however, was a bastion of calm and confidence.

“Our creator showed us visions of a red furred Gaoler with silver horns and runes inscribed on his body.” he insisted. “Are you sure you have not seen him?”

Murdoch's face betrayed his shock, and he wasn't quick enough to wipe the fear from his expression, so he instead took a defensive stance.

“You will not take my son from me.” he stated, with a growl.

“Murdoch-” Kael hissed, with a warning.

“Do not keep him from us.” Harven warned.

“How dare you make demands?” Rye came forward. “You come into our home, demand we surrender one of our own, and then threaten us?” her mane puffed out, and even Liv looked agitated behind her.

“He is the First Icewarden awakened in these modern times. We would serve him, not take him away.” Izotz intervened. “Please, let's be civilized.”

“As civilized as modern dragons can get, at least.” Harven sneered.

“What do you mean, modern? Are you not from this age?” Murdoch asked, relaxing a little, but still very aware of Harven.

“We are the original Ancients. We slumbered beneath the ice for millenia, until Icewarden woke us up to resume our duty once more.” Izotz explained. “We were the first, the Gaolers, meant to protect dragonkind from the Shade.”

“What does my son have to do with all that?” Murdoch asked, fiercely.

“He has been Prophesiced. He is the one who will lead us against the coming darkness.” Izotz said. “Like I said, we are here to serve him, not take him away.”

“Yet you see fit to come in without announcing yourself, and demanding we show him to you.” Rye said, still bitter. “Who knows if what you claim is true? We have no way to confirm it.”

“No, you'll have to take our word for it.” Izotz admitted.

“Or our claws, if you feel so inclined.” Harven added.

“You don't frighten me.” Rye hissed. Azar had seen Rye cast her formidable magic, he didn't doubt that she could defeat anyone in a fight, blessed by the Arcanist as she was.

“Sister, please-” Liv tried to calm Rye, but Rye'd had enough. She had always been headstrong and quick to anger.

“No, Liv. These intruders would be wise to leave. Now.” Rye warned them.

“We will not leave until we have seen him.” Izotz insisted now too, his fur puffing out just like Rye's mane. This was getting out of hand. Azar knew they were here for him, and he was terrified, his legs were shaking from being still for so long and his body felt heavy with doubt. But he couldn't let this turn into a bloodbath without at least trying to stop it.

The crowd around them was now openly hissing and roaring, claws were lashing out with a challenge, the other ancients encircling the Gaolers. The Gaolers retreated into a circle, the younger dragon in their midst, looking about as scared as Azar felt.

“If you won't stand aside-” Harven stood up to her full length, preparing to attack, Murdoch readying himself for the counter. Azar felt his body move as if propelled by a magical force.

“STOP!”