#on a volcano? shadow must be going some lengths to keep him well he sure is unexpectedly responsible

[lunavagans]

The duel in the volcano takes on a very different light once you unironically start shipping ViGreenDow, I realized…

[fioreofthemarch]

yearnings

[✨ this was written for zelink week 2023 organised by @zelinkcommunity and is a companion piece to 'repast' and 'kin'] Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Pairing: Link/Zelda Words: 1140

Despite all that time has taken from her, the Light Dragon can still recall names.

The skies in which she swims belong to Hyrule, and her sister dragons that she shares them with are Naydra, Farosh and Dinraal. Yet the Light Dragon no longer has a name, and her heart cries out in search of one — though she does not know why.

Each day at sunset, her sisters join her above the clouds. Sister, they say, come with us, to where the land meets the sky and where the mortal beings dwell. Each day, for many years, the Light Dragon cannot accept. She awaits another, one who will awaken on the Great Sky Island that she dutifully guards. This purpose, though its details are lost, burns within her.

When the swordsman finally awakens, the Light Dragon senses him immediately. She watches with muted curiosity as he begins to explore her island in the sky. Why had he come to this place? Were all the mortal beings so small? Soon she finds him on the ancient circular landing behind the island’s temple, and watches as the sword in his hand disappears in golden light. She is drawn to him then, called by a voice within: the swordsman must have a sword. Perhaps on the surface, where her sisters call to her, he will find another. Determined, the Light Dragon splits the clouds guarding the island from the world below. The swordsman does not wait; he leaps, surface bound. The Light Dragon follows.

The vast lands below swallow the swordsman whole. There are deep valleys that cut the earth and mountains that pierce the skies. There are churning rivers and yawning bays. There are open plains, marshy swamps, and rolling deserts. He must be out there, somewhere, and across all four corners of Hyrule the Light Dragon searches.

In winding canyons flooded with water, she meets her sister Farosh. Have you seen a swordsman? she asks. Farosh answers: None with valour and courage enough to impress me, sister.

Among rocky crags and cooled lava, in the shadow of a great volcano she meets her sister Dinraal. Have you seen a swordsman? she asks. Dinraal answers: Hyrule has seen many, sister, for blood flows here as easily as water flows to the sea.

Between gentle mountains, as snow feathers down, she meets her sister Naydra. Have you seen a swordsman? she asks. Naydra answers: Yes, he flies as we do, sister. I am sure he will visit you soon.

But he does not. The sorrow the Light Dragon feels at this is powerful and achingly fresh. Against her will, tears well in her eyes. She begs them not to fall; each time they do, they take more of her with them. She tries to hold on, and hold fast, but the tears fall anyway. The Light Dragon forgets why she was crying.

It is not long after this that he finds her. And it was as Naydra said; the swordsman could fly like the dragons, capturing the winds to soar through the sky. He lands softly on her back, his footsteps tickling, almost pleasant. Then he is holding onto her mane, holding very tight; is he worried he might fall? Then she can hear weeping. She hopes he is not unwell.

After some time, the swordsman speaks: “Is that really you, Zelda?”

She does not understand nor does she answer the question.

“Gods… you have the Master Sword. You’ve really had it all this time…”

Then he is moving, light feet padding about her mane. “Sorry, old girl, I’ve gotta take it from you.”

She is just thinking that she likes the gentle weight of him when a blinding pain rips through her head and down the length of her body. She lurches skyward, roaring, but the pain doesn’t stop, and it’s like something is tugging very hard on her head. It is not nice! Whatever it is should let go! It is her fur there! It keeps her warm! Let go! Let go!

The sky suddenly flashes white, and next she knows she is enveloped in clouds of shimmering gold. Calm washes through her and she relaxes, allowing herself to float. The swordsman is still there, murmuring: Hylia help me, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that’d hurt— Are you okay?

Yes, it is all going to be okay. She closes her eyes and recalls the final piece of her memories that had not yet slipped away; she has the sword, which she guarded much as she guarded her island in the sky. How this came to be, and why, is lost to her. But it is no matter. Her purpose is fulfilled. She is at peace.

After this, the swordsman visits her often. He brings her apples cooked in butter, which she eats even though she can’t really taste them, doing so because it seems to make him happy. Then he brings her flowers, threading them into her mane, which she likes for the soft pull of his fingers through her hair. Sometimes he comes to talk, telling stories of the surface, using words she doesn’t understand but enjoys for the sound of his voice. Sometimes he just comes to sit, clinging to her mane, always clinging.

Then, the last time he comes, she is sitting with him on top of the temple on the Great Sky Island, dozing. Her sisters have teased her for this. Sister beloved, what need does a dragon have for sleep? The swordsman sleeps, she has told them, and often sleeps for entire days. It seemed a pleasant activity to try, and she has found it helps her to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her back.

On this final day, she awakens to find the swordsman brushing her mane, running his hands through the strands.

“I have to go soon, Zelda,” he says. “I’ve stalled for a long time. I need to finish what you started.”

He has an apple in his hand, which she obligingly eats. “If I don’t come back, old girl, you know I love you, right? If there’s even a tiny bit of Zelda in there, I want her to know…”

Zelda. She yearns to understand this word. Is that a name? If it was, could it be hers? She does not know how to tell the swordsman this — that she can be his Zelda, if he wants. Instead she pushes her snout into his hand, nuzzling against him.

In response he wraps his arms around her, holding tight. At his back is a noble sword, in a scabbard of blue and gold. Then he lets go, runs a gentle hand across her fur one last time, and departs.

The Light Dragon Zelda returns to the sky, unmoved. He has left her before, and always returns.

Content to wait, she flies away free.

[mmazzeroo]

Chapter 11: NED III - Why Didn’t You Want Me?

@helloimnotawesome - Finally chapter 11. It was really hard for me to write this and I’m sorry if it’s hard for you to read. Chapter 12 will be up in a few mins.

NED III - Why Didn’t You Want Me?

"I'm ready when you are...I think. If I could just get this out of my eyes."

He was watching his eldest son trying to fix that unruly mop on top of his head that they called hair.

With a frustrated groan Jon threw his hands up in the air. "Stupid hair! It has a life of its own. Let's just forget about it. It's fine."

"Here, let me help you." He stepped up behind Jon and tied his hair up in the back just like his own was. "There! All neat and tidy like you wanted it." He leaned around and smiled.

"Thanks, dad."

"No worries." He padded Jon on the shoulder. "You're ready?"

Getting a curt nod from Jon he turned to Barristan.

"Camera ready, Commander Selmy?"

"Ready as can be, Dr. Stark."

Today Jon was having his picture taken for his first official identification papers carrying his real name of 'Jonathan Dayne'. That would make him, and his children, the last of the Daynes - a lineage thought to have ended with the deaths of Ashara and Arthur and the disappearance of Jon. Well, once they got the legal thing sorted out that is. Once again something he dreaded telling his newly returned son. Why does getting your child back have to be such a mess?! DA Martell had offered to come join for this particular matter, but he'd told the lawyer that it might be better to just be him and Jon for now. He wasn't entirely sure how Jon would take the news.

Jon sat on a chair propped up against the wall by the door. Still just wearing hospital scrub-pants and a shirt, tie and jacket borrowed from Robb. Looking very formal and handsome from the waist up. We need to get him some clothes of his own. We need to get him a place upstairs with the rest of the family. We need to get him home! With just a few quick snaps and a signature, Commander Selmy was out the door again, promising to be back later in the day with all the documents.

"So how many people know I'm back?"

"Besides the family?"

Jon nodded as he removed the jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

"Only Commander Selmy and your Dr. Tarly."

"Oh well, that would explain the Dothrakhi guards still by my door," Jon laughed lightly.

"In part," he laughed nervously. Crap!

"...and in part..?" His son looked at him expectantly. More crap! Remember, no beating around the bush. Just say it!

"Well, I couldn't quite figure out the legal ramifications of bringing you back from the dead."

Jon laughed. "I'm sorry I thought you said 'back from the dead'."

"You've been missing for 20 years..."

"You had me declared dead?" Jon had a disbelieving look in his eyes that grew darker with every second - as did his voice. "Dead! DEAD?!?" Stay calm, Ned, stick to the facts.

"Well, actually it was the Martells. With Arthur and your mother's tragic deaths and no known whereabouts for you they became the legal guardians of your ancestral home, Starfall. The law stipulates that, in such a case, if no heir has come forward after 10 years then the guardians automatically become the default owners of the property or properties in question as the case may be. In this case the Martells chose to extend the waiting period till your 21st birthday, but..." He looked warily to his son who stared back at him with such a look of betrayal he found it hard to keep the eye contact. "Currently Starfall is owned by the Martells, but out of respect they've left it untouched."

"Respect?!" Jon snorted. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"I'm sure they'd give it back to you—"

"I don't give a shit about some stupid old keep that I can't even remember ever having set foot in! Didn't even know it was mine until now. Why the fuck would I care?" He was at the receiving end of one of the harshest looks he'd ever seen. I've woken the wolf in him. Sneering Jon added, "it's the principle!"

Jon was highly agitated as he paced back and forth along the length of the bed, clenching and unclenching his fists and jaws.

"So you just agreed? Just like that?"

"No, I...it isn't like that, Jon. Listen to me, son..." He held his hands up so show he meant no harm, but Jon wasn't having it.

"Son? Oh yeah right, now that I by dumb fucking luck managed to land myself in your hospital, I'm suddenly your son again? Huh?" He snorted and shook his head in disbelief. "Was I your son while I was rotting away at Pyke Island and Craster's Keep?" More sneering. Wait. Craster?! Thought it was bad enough when he'd mentioned Pyke Island a few days ago.

"Jon...please calm down."

"Calm down?! Why?? I'm dead aren't I? Can't get much more calmer that that!!" This is going worse than I imagined.

"Jon, just listen. Please..."

"Listen to what? You explain how no one bothered to look for me all those years? How no one cared to try to find me at all? Listen to that you mean? Yeah can't wait to hear your excuses for that, 'father'!" The last word clearly said to mock him.

"That's enough, Captain!!" Raising his voice had made Jon stop in his tracks. He slowly turned around to face his father. Glaring. Good, get it out son. Now talk calmly and evenly. He's a wounded animal, Ned.

"I know I deserve your anger." Jon snorted. "And I'm sorry. Truly I am. There's nothing I can do to change what's happened, if I could I would've years ago." Jon continued glaring at him. "I understand your anger—

"—no you don't!" His son was practically growling at him now. Good thing Ghost isn't here he would've ripped my throat out by now.

"Fine. I don't understand, but I do know the kind of anger you must be feeling. That impossible anger strangling the grief, until the memory of your loved one is just...poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed, so you would be spared your pain."

"Oh wow! You didn't just have me declared dead you actually wished me dead? Did you wish my mom dead too? Aunt Lya? Uncle Arthur? Huh?? Just so you could've been spared the pain you felt? Not selfish and self-pitying at all, Doctor!"

Jon was back to his pacing but there was a more aggressive edge to his walk now. A fury looming underneath, bobbling like lava in a volcano just waiting to erupt. I'm going to need Vis for this. Why didn't I think that could be a possibility? Crap on crap! He slowly went to the door, slightly cracking it open and in a low voice told Aggo to go get Viserys asap. As he turned back to face the room, Jon was standing over by the window hands resting on the frame. Amazing how anger and adrenalin can make his body forget how much pain it's actually in still.

"I didn't feel that anger you speak of, Dr. Stark. I had used up all my anger being dragged across the Dothrakhi Sea. Burned skin and blistered feet. They loved taunting me by calling me names like 'Ahesso' because I was white as snow, or 'Verro' because I growled like a wolf whenever they touched me. Every night at camp they'd take turns to pick one of us 'slaves' for target practice. For the first many months they didn't bother with me because I was so small." Dothrakhi Sea? Did we even look there? Did we ever consider him a victim of human trafficking? Oh gods!

"One day one of the Khal's sons picked me to fight against him for 'the evening entertainment'. He was maybe a year of two older than me. I was seven I think. Everyone laughing. Clearly expecting an easy fight with him just toying with me. Of course they didn't know that both Uncle Arthur and Aunt Lya had been teaching me old fashion sword-fighting. Of course neither of them had noticed me watching them every night from my spot in the shadows. So I held my own. He still won but it was a tough win for him. After that they only referred to me as 'Hrakkar' - their infamous and illusive white lion. Because I had hid like a predator in the grass they said and because I was fighting like it was a matter of life and death. Something they found endlessly amusing."

Jon finally turned to face him again. Those beautiful grey eyes had turned almost black with pain, anger, and betrayal. His mouth still holding a sneer.

"I learned something that night. I learned I could survive if I wanted to and if I was smart enough. I learned that befriending pain and violence can be a means of survival. A lesson that carried me through the hells that were the orphanage on Pyke Island and the so-called 'military boarding school' of Craster's Keep. Ever since that night in the Dothrakhi Sea whenever I've learned a lesson it comes with another painful memory. I've watched family and friends die, I've had to kill to survive."

"Jon, please, you don't have to do this to yourself anymore."

"No, I don't, but you need to hear it." Jon again sent him a hard look. No room for debate or negotiation.

"As a small child I was told there was nothing out there to fear. But the day I saw my parents brutally murdered I caught a glimpse of something. And, wherever I was taken next I went looking for it, searched in all the shadows. Until one day I discovered that that 'something' that was out there lurking in the darkness, that 'something' terrifying, that 'something' that wouldn't stop until it got its revenge...that was me."

"...you speak of your parents murdered, but I'm right here—"

"—because I thought you were dead, dad!! What I saw, what I heard didn't give little Jon any indication that you could've possibly survived. So when I talk about thinking someone would be out looking for me I don't mean you. For all I knew my parents were dead, so of course didn't expect you to come find me anywhere, but I kept hoping that someone, anyone would come. But...no one did. No one ever did! I might as well have been dead all this time!"

The pain was dripping from his son's tongue like drops of blood - and it might as well have been. His own or his son's he couldn't say, but it felt like blood being spilled like it had been 20 years ago in Meereen. He couldn't stop Jon's stream of words flowing like a strong river through the canyons. He's seizing his moment. He's never had the opportunity to lash out at me like this before!

"Do you know what it feels like to be abandoned like that? To know that no one cares? That you were not worth looking for, not worthy of being found? To know that the love and care and light and laughter you'd known were never meant to be yours?" Jon was beginning to sob no longer able to hold back the tears he'd fought so bravely all this time. "In fact maybe it was never real in the first place. It was just a figment of your stupid childish imagination! Because you're just a worthless piece of shit, a pathetic excuse for a human being who is not worthy of any form of love or kindness whatsoever!!!"

His son was back at yelling now. Angry tears streaming down his face. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Viserys' face looking like he'd caught a big chunk of Jon's speech. Jon himself had given no indication that he'd noticed or even seen Viserys standing there in the door.

Suddenly Jon swung his head around as if something hit him.

"Why didn't you look for me then? Why didn't you do something? Anything? ANSWER ME!! Were you just up here in your ivory tower hoping, wishing, praying I was dead like all the others?!?"

With tears running down his own face he tried to find the words to answer his son, but there was nothing that could be said. I'm so sorry, son, so sorry for all the pain you lived through, all the hells you've survived. My heart is breaking for you, not for your angry words at me, but for you, my sweet boy. Thinking so little of yourself to be able to survive. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!

Standing in the middle of the room Jon stared at him with murder in his eyes. Wolf written all over his face - sneer on his lips, jaws clenched, fists clenched so hard the knuckles were white. Out of nowhere he started screaming.

"ARGHHHH!!!! I HATE YOU!!!! I HATE YOU. SO. MUCH!!!!"

Frozen in place all he could do was listen to the sound of his son's already broken heart being smashed again and again.

"Never a hint that you were searching for me. Never a sign. Not. One. Sign. Ever. And now," Jon's laugher was bitter with a manic edge to it, "now you want me to believe that I'm just to step back  into this family like nothing happened? 'Here's your family castle, son', 'here's you're inheritance, my boy', 'here's where you'll be showered with love'. I can't take it. It's too much. It's. Too. Fucking. Much. I CAN'T TAKE IT!!!"

Jon grabbed the nearest chair and threw it against the wall smashing it to pieces. In the background Viserys' calm voice could be heard in the hallway.

"Nothing to worry about. He's just passionately redecorating the room. Move along people. Nothing to see here."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up with a start there was a pair of lilac eyes looking at him with nothing but sympathy.

Jon had collapsed on Ghost's mattress now covered in splinters from what used to be a chair. Curled up in a fetal position he was sobbing uncontrollably.

In a quiet voice Vis said, "I think it's time for me to take over, Dr. Stark. If you can, please go find Davos and tell him to bring Max, ok?"

All he could do was nod as he helplessly watched his son fall apart before his eyes. As he quietly closed the door behind him his mind kept repeating Jon's heart-wrenching words: "Why didn't you want me?"

[nomorelonelydays]

Dragon AU: Part 2 - submission

The first then Sidney felt, was warmth. He shifted beneath his blankets, before long he need to get up and attend the council meetings with his father. He opened his eyes a crack and then sat up in shock. Right. He was in the dragon’s lair. He took stock of himself, noticing that someone had removed his armor, setting it in a neat pile far below at the base of the pile and he wore the tunic and pants he put on under his armor. He was alone on top of the treasure pile, surrounded and covered by stolen furs but across the cave, he saw shadows moving in the firelight. A cold wind swept through the cave from the nearby entrance and Sidney shivered, tugging the pelts that had fallen when he sat up, back around his shoulders. Winter was coming. He might as well face his host since he was apparently not allowed to leave. He hoped the dragon wouldn’t mind as he wrapped one of the bigger furs around himself (big enough that is couldn’t be anything but a bear) and careful picked his way down the pile. He walked along what seemed to be a path, the smooth stone standing out among the glittering hoard and when he rounded a corner he saw a man standing at the fire. He was tall, taller than Sidney (and Sid he was definitely not short). The muscles of his shoulders visibly shifted beneath a shirt that had far to many colors, as he tossed another log onto the flames. The man must have heard him approach because he turned and smiled at him, “Good morning, little prince.” He set down the stick he was using to stoke the fire and came closer. “Not want you to be cold.” He tisked, and tucked the fur around Sidney more securely. Warm fingers brushed his collar and Sidney’s face grew hot. This close, he could see the dragon’s human form had warm brown eyes and a strong jaw. Zhenya placed a finger under his chin and tilted his head up, “Looks good on you.” He sounded almost proud and Sid wanted to die. He’d only talked to the dragon in once before he had been sent to kill him and it definitely had not made him feel like this. His stomach growled loudly, hopefully making the dragon forget about the comments he was making. He was used to teasing, the ladies of the court had always giggled about his scraggly beard and his awkward composure and none of the men of the court were willing to even consider a man who did and always would outrank them. Thankfully, Zhenya seemed more concerned about his stomach than his flaming face. “Hungry?” Sidney nodded rapidly.

While they ate, Zhenya told him about the cave system he had chosen as his home, “Cave was carved from old volcano” , he explained, “That is the reason why I choose. Volcano rock holds heat during winter, is cool during summer when I open vents.” “There’s vents?” The dragon set his fork down and pointed at several medium sized boulders close to the domed ceiling of the cave, bound by an intricate metal web, “When cold sets in I put rocks in place so I do not freeze.” Sidney squinted, trying to make out the pattern of what looked to be silver, “Did you make those yourself?” “Yes! You like? I’m write runes on rocks to make them stick.” “You do magic?” The king had banned magic years ago and more than one mage had been killed. Sid had never been allowed to be curious; anything that had been even slightly charmed or magical was immediately destroyed or banned. It was a miracle that the king had kept his alliance with the dragon for so long. Zhenya immediately lit up. “Of course, most dragons know at least little spells.” He wiggled his fingers over his fork and spoke something in what Sidney now realized was magic. Sid watched as it floated up like a feather falling in reverse. Then Zhenya snapped his fingers and the fork shot quick as an arrow and buried itself in the stone wall of the cave. “Can lift objects good and fireproof things.” He gestured to the fur wrapped around Sidney, “All blankets are charmed in case I forget that they’re not fireproof like me.” Sid hesitated, even he wasn’t immune to his fathers laws… but his father thought he was dead. Before he could psych himself out he blurted, “Can you show me how?” The dragon looked back over his shoulder from where he was attempting to wiggle his fork free, eyebrows raised, “Little prince wants to learn magic?” “I would like to, if you’re willing to teach me.” He was going to be stuck here a while and he might as well have something to do. Zhenya abandoned the fork in the wall and sat back down, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on table. “First need to see if you even have magic ability. Then maybe, can give you books and stuff. I’m think I have a test somewhere. Be right back.” The dragon jogged off through the hoard out of sight in search of the magic ‘test’ and Sid took the opportunity to look around what seemed to be the cooking area. It was tucked into the back corner of the cave and had a massive fireplace that looked like it doubled as both a forge and a cooking fire. There was a large pot on the grate in the fire and some bellows shoved to the side to make space for a table where the dragon had prepared the ingredients for their breakfast. It was cozy. Zhenya rushed back in holding an intricately carved box that was about two feet long and a hand-length wise. He carefully placed it on the table and opened it in front of Sid. The inside of the box was divided into five different sections with items in them: a burning coal, a small piece of metal, some water, a feather, and a handful of dirt. Zhenya drug his chair so he could sit behind Sidney and he explained how the test worked. “You put your hand over items and they sense which elements you do best.” “Which ones did you get?” The dragon grinned at him poking his tongue between his teeth, “Guess.” “Definitely fire.” “Of course. And… “ Sid looked over the objects and remembered the forge set up by the fire, “Metal.” “Very good, is why my hoard has so much metal. Is easier to keep track of. Now wave your hand over the first box.” As Sid did as he was told, the burning coal flared up and then faded when he withdrew. “Little bit fire! Alignment does not mean you can’t do that magic; just means it’s easier so you start there and then move on to harder elements. Keep going.” There was little to no response from the dirt and the feather but the water froze the moment he raised his hand and the metal glowed and then faded. Zhenya’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline, “Three! Lots of magic in you, Sid. Almost glow like little sun. No one do this with you before?” “I’ve never even seen someone practice magic.” “Never even- Why?! Even prince not have good education?!” The dragon looked horrified and Sidney wasn’t sure how to respond. “Magic hasn’t been allowed for years.” That must have been the wrong to say because Zhenya’s face darkened and he cursed under his breath, “Is against contact I signed, Sid. The king lie.” Of course he had. Sidney couldn’t believe that his father had done something that stupid. He had to know that eventually a very angry fire breathing dragon would find out. The dragon in front of him looked outright murderous. And he was the son of the one that betrayed him. Even when Zhenya was in human form there was no way Sidney could beat him in a fight. He might be broader but the dragon was most defiantly strong and had magical abilities. But instead of lashing out, Zhenya collapsed back into his chair, anger melting to exhaustion. “Is so stupid. Wanted to help but all he do is lie! Sasha tell me,” He spoke in a whiny approximation of someone’s voice, “ ‘Can’t trust humans Zhenya, they cheat and betray you!’ But he just over dramatic because Nicky cheats at cards.” “Who’s Sasha?” “Is dragon who lives on other side of the mountains. He comes to visit sometimes. He’s and asshole. His better half is Nicky, they meet in market place and Sasha annoy him into falling in love.” Zhenya heaved a sigh and stood, “Need to go do patrol to make sure no strange creatures come in my territory and then we have lunch and start magic lessons. Bring you back a present. Look around if you want. Back caves have river for washing, just follow torches.” He places both his hands on Sidney’s shoulders and smiles warmly at him. He’s close enough that Sid can feel the heat radiating off of him even in the slightly chilly cave, “Glad you decide to stay, solnyshko.” “I can leave?” Sid blurted out without thinking. The dragon’s smile wilted and he took a step back. Sid shivered and almost closed the distance between them before thinking better of it. What was wrong with him? “If you want to little prince. Not going to keep you here if you do. Is the reason I’m leave you alone in morning.” “You put me to sleep! What was I supposed to think?” Now he was frustrated. The dragon had literally magicked him to sleep after telling him he was staying. “So I just let traumatize person run off to death in woods? Not thinking straight, Sid.” “I wasn’t traumatized!” The dragon sighed, “Sid. You lose family, home, kingdom all at once. Almost die. While I’m gone, decide. Is fine if you go, I’m not going after you.” He hesitated, before saying in a voice that was a little less calm and measured, “But would be happy if you stay.” Zhenya started walking towards the cave entrance, his form flickering, shifting, growing into his true form. He was lonely, Sidney realized as he watched the dawn light reflect off of the dragon’s scales. And then Zhenya was gone.