#the big wall what separates the land of sweets from the land of savoury

[alienssstufff]

I’m like the only person that thinks this but for some reason imagined Quesadilla Island to be literally made out of the ingredients for quesadilla - or just different foods in general -

I like the artistic potential in having an smp that looks like the island from Cloudy With a Chance Of Meatballs 2 :]

(Or maybe I’m just hungry idk)

[writersblockandapotoftea]

A Tale of a Misfit and his Talking Lizard

Chapter 3

Read Chapter 2

@aj-the-satyr 

Grigori waved to Ashe, Galean and Jesse as their wagon headed further into Aria, rumbling on the stone street. He looked around, his eyes wide with delight. There were forges, slamming their hammers down with a comforting beat. Smells wafted through the air surrounding the market, things he never had smelled before, sweet and savoury and spicy all at once.

He looked at Nolio. The elf was speaking to someone in chainmail, hand against their chest. Grigori cocked his head.

"I have been requested at the castle," Pheo said, looking at Grigori. Grigori slumped a little bit. "As have you."

"What?"

"My lover is there, there is something we must discuss," Pheo said, his eyes flipping to Grigori's bag. Grigori nodded, stiffening slightly. He wouldn't let them hurt Ovar, no matter what. "Come on."

Grigori walked beside Pheo and the chainmail clad figure, glancing at the armour they wore. Light, over a thin leather, it was supple and moved with only a faint chinging. Grigori nodded to himself, likely an alloy of chrome and steel, very high quality. The soldier took care of the armour.

Grigori tripped over a hole in the stone, landing on his knees.

"Ouch," he muttered, standing and feeling the blood ooze from the scratches. Nolio waited for him to catch up.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, it's just a graze," Grigori said, showing it.

"Give me your hand," Ovar whispered. Grigori looked at him.

"Why?" he hissed.

"I wanna lick it."

"Why?"

"Let me lick your hand," Ovar insisted. Grigori sighed and slipped his hand into the bag, letting Ovar lick at it, digging the gravel out of it. Surprisingly, it did sting less. Grigori scratched behind Ovar's ears gently.

He paused for a minute on seeing the palace. It was stunning, there was a massive dome with crystals at the top. The stones were all rose marble and chiselled by hand to have beautiful flowers and birds that looked like the wind might rouse them from their slumber. The windows were stained glass, painting beautiful pictures.

"Pheo," a voice boomed. Grigori jumped as a huge person, he was pretty sure they were a man, strode down, a green cape settling around them, pewter hair brushed back into a neat braid. Pheo beamed and ran towards them; getting scooped up and spun around and around.

"Jal, I missed you," he cheered, kissing his cheek.

"I missed you too," Jal replied, holding him close. He looked over at Grigori. "You made a friend! Lovely!"

"Jal, he's the egg's familiar," Nolio muttered. Jal nodded.

"We'll talk about it inside," he said. "Come along, uhm, what is your name?"

"Grigori," Grigori replied, feeling put off by Jal's startling eyes. The pupils were like Ovar's. Jal blinked twice and burst out laughing.

"The dwarves named you squishy," Jal gasped out, clutching his stomach. Grigori blinked and giggled, nodding.

"Yes, yes they did."

"Come along squishy, we have much to discuss," Jal said, gesturing.

Grigori followed Nolio and him as they walked briskly through the halls, stopping to look at a staff on the wall. There was an emblem on its grip that he knew very well. An L that looked like a pickaxe.

His doma had made that.

Echo, the staff of Healers.  

They had stitched the leather, shaped the gyroscope at the top out of metal light and strong, forged the body and the base with hands that never faltered, ever.

"Steal it," Ovar piped.

"You are a horrible influence."  

"Squishy, come on," Jal called from around the corner.

"Coming," Grigori called, pushing Ovar's head back into the bag.

Grigori picked Ovar back off of the table, placing the little dragon firmly on his lap and looking down at the ground. Ovar climbed up onto his shoulders, then into his mass of curly hair, settling down.

"Really?" Grigori whispered.

"It's warm and I can see," Ovar replied.

"You are so strange," Grigori said, looking up and around. He shouldn't be here. These were all powerful mages, experienced warriors and a man Pheo pointed out to him as King Thiago. He was a twenty-year-old with a dirty tunic and a dragon. He swallowed and did his best to look serious. Pheo sat beside him and next to Pheo was Jal, sitting tall and proud. Ovar made a humming noise in his mind's ear.

What?  Grigori asked, cautiously trying out telepathy.

Jal is a really powerful dragon,  Ovar replied. Grigori blinked.

He looks human.

He's a dragon, and so is the man sitting next to him.  Ovar replied.

Pheo?

The other one, moron,  Ovar groaned. Grigori leaned forward slightly, seeing blue hair a bare chest and gold eyes.

Wow,  Grigori marvelled.  His hair looks like spun sapphires.

You're odd.  

A throat cleared and all the conversation around the table stopped. King Thiago stood up, hands on the table in front of him.

"We are faced with a very serious problem," he started. "To the east, Elianore conquers and pillages the Marish and Bitai. To the west, Jaclyn hunts dragons and giants."

"Do we know what they want?" the blue-haired man asked, crossing his arms.

"We have an idea for Elianore, thanks to her foolish attempt to steal Mishka the Keeper's egg. We believe that she may be seeking to go through to Phuina and find the Garden of Lila."

There were discontented mutterings.

"Then why is she going after a baby dragon?" Grigori asked, watching Ovar climb down into his palm. "Wouldn't it be faster to get help from an older dragon because they have more magic?" he continued, looking over to Jal, hoping he hadn't misspoken.

"Because only infant dragons can be fooled into leading someone unworthy to the gardens," Jal explained, smiling softly as Ovar climbed back onto Grigori's shoulder. "And only Thaiga Dragons can find what we think she's looking for."

"Is that Mishka's hatchling?" A wizard asked, looking at Ovar, who had now slunk into Grigori's tunic.

"I... I don't know," Grigori said. Ovar poked his head out of Grigori's tunic.

"I am," he said. "We're going to go visit her."

The council all raised their eyebrows. Thiago looked at Grigori, who slunk back into his chair.

"We?" he asked.

"Grigori and me," Ovar said, snuggling closer to Grigori. "He's my familiar."

The court went silent for a few moments. Grigori grinned at Ovar, who licked his chin and scrambled out of his shirt, moving back into his hair.

"But he's not Awakened," One mage said, crossing her arms. "You're a dragon, you could have any familiar in the world."

Ovar stretched, rolling back and forth on his limbs.

"This boy is mine," he said. "And I am his and I will fight all of you before I let you separate us."

"Ovar," Grigori whispered, his heart swelling. He reached up and took Ovar gently in his arms. "Thank you," he mumbled, rocking him and scratching his ears and Ovar rumbled contentedly.

"Then an escort is in order for the two of you to make it safely to the nesting grounds," Jal said, looking at Thiago, who nodded. "Pheo, Syralth and I shall stay here to prepare to defend Aria as the two hordes draw closer."

"I will stay as well," the female mage said.

Two generals also said they would stay, leaving three people. The king, the queen and a female soldier who hadn't said anything. Thiago turned to her.

"Sacha?"

"I'll go with them with two of my best," she said softly. "And he has to be Awakened before we leave. I'm not going through Jaclyn and Elianore's territories without a mage."

"Right," Thiago said, looking at the blue haired man. "Syralth, you and Jal are the only ones I know who can do it."

"In the end, the choice isn't ours to make," Syralth replied. "It is Grigori's and Grigori's alone, no matter how much we beg and scream."

The court turned and looked at Grigori, who squirmed in his chair. He wanted to be Awakened, but he really, really didn't want to die and he wanted more time to think about it. Ovar looked up at him.

I won't let you die.  His voice whispered in Grigori's mind. Grigori nodded slowly.

"I, I'll do it," he said softly.

"Alright, we will do it in three days, at midnight," Syralth said. "Unless someone objects." The court remained silent. "Three days at midnight it is then."

"Until then, Grigori, please enjoy the palace. You may go," Thiago said gently. Grigori nodded and left the room, carrying Ovar close to his chest. An androgynous human was standing just outside.

"I am Brutus. I'll take you to your rooms so that you may bathe."

"Bathe?" Grigori asked, following them. Brutus wrinkled their nose.

"You sit in water and we take off the coating of grime on you."

"Sit. In. Water."

"Yes."

"Do you want me to freeze to death?" Grigori asked, making a face. Brutus sighed and pinched their nose.

"We shall heat the water," Brutus replied. Grigori nodded and followed them, still concerned. They got into a little room, with a huge cot in the corner, a fireplace and a strange looking bucket in the middle of it. "Get out of those filthy clothes," Brutus said, pushing Grigori behind a strange, stretched piece of fabric. He set Ovar down and peeled off layer after layer of dusty clothes, standing only in his briefs.

Grigori felt strangely exposed. His definition of getting clean was having a bucket of cool water dumped on his head and then standing in front of the forges to dry off before he got too cold.

He peeked around the screen, one arm across his chest, the other covering his privates cautiously. Brutus and another were dumping buckets of water into the big bucket, which he guessed was where he'd 'bathe'. He flushed.

He had never been fully naked in front of others before.

"Are you undressed?" Brutus called.

"Yes?" Grigori replied. Brutus turned and gave a quick peek.

"Briefs too."

"But-"

"I'll turn around for twelve seconds," Brutus said. "I want you fully undressed and in the tub before I turn around."

"Is the tub the big bucket?"

"Yes," Brutus said as they turned around. Grigori yanked off his briefs and scrambled over to the tub, plunking himself down in it with a splash. His eyes widened and he sighed in delight. It was so warm and the water smelled nice. Brutus turned around and saw water all over the floor. Grigori blinked.

"Sorry?" he offered. Brutus sighed and chuckled.

"Constance," they called. The other person came back with a tray full of strange bottles and bricks and tiny towels. "Now, Lavender or Lemon or Glowmoss?"

"Glowmoss," Grigori said, unsure of what they were asking. Brutus grabbed a bottle and poured it into his hair, running their fingers through it gently. Grigori squeaked, but soon relaxed as the scent of glowmoss, musky and spicy, filled his nostrils. Brutus' hands were gentle and they rinsed the suds and dirt out of his hair.

"Is this really your first bath?" they asked, handing Grigori a bar of soap and helping them stand in the slippery tub.

"Yes," Grigori said, sniffing the soap.

"Don't lick it. Rub it on your hands then rub your hands everywhere."

"Alright," Grigori said, doing as he was told.

"Sit back in the water."

Grigori sat back down and watched as the bubbles moved off of him.

"How often do I have to bathe?"

"Every week."

"You're kidding."

“Nope.”

🜂🜂

Jaclyn looked at Elianore and she crossed her arms. How she hated asking for help. It made her seethe and grit her teeth.

"Why are you here, Elianore?" Jaclyn asked.

"Once a member of the Delphinae, always a member. I come to ask for your assistance," Elianore said, spitting the last word out like it was poison. Jaclyn raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "The baby dragon, he has bonded, with a boy."

"You need to be more specific darling, I know lots of boys," Jaclyn replied, hands on her hips. Elianore glared at her. That cocky bitch.

"I think he's Kotaro's son."

"Impossible. He died. My algorths tore him and his treacherous wife apart twenty years ago," Jaclyn replied. "And they would not have failed."

"Depends on what you ordered them to do."

"I ordered them to kill Kotaro and Thoko and Thoko wasn't pregnant when she left," Jaclyn replied.

"There's only one way to be sure. I would like to capture him with aide from your summons. You keep the boy, I keep the dragon."

"A mutually beneficial alliance." Jaclyn raised an eyebrow.

Elianore nodded, forcing herself to smile. She hated Jaclyn but pairing the most powerful Elemental Mage and the world's premiere Sorceress was too good of an opportunity to waste. Between them, they had more than half of the continent conquered. Jaclyn smiled and Elianore offered her hand; Jaclyn shook it.

"Partners then," she said.

"Yes, which demons would you like to use?"

"I heard recently you conquered Anshe."

"You heard correctly," Jaclyn replied, pulling a pearl around out of her pocket. "The terror of the oceans, in my palm."

"The way to the nesting grounds is over the sea," Elianore said, beginning to pace. Jaclyn nodded.

"I can do that," Jaclyn said, grinning. "Although, once I break the pearl, I will not be able to capture her again."

"That doesn't matter, you'll have the boy," Elianore said. Jaclyn nodded slowly.

"If he is the child of Kotaro and Thoko, I have to end him. Can you imagine how much he could screw up everything?"

"The birthright of Thoko and Kotaro's stubbornness in one body? It would be a nightmare,” Elianore said, inhaling. “But perhaps he doesn't need to be killed, Jaclyn," Elianore continued. Time to put her second part of the plan into action. "He can be broken and rebuilt. Then it wouldn't be even a contest of conquering the whole world."

"You're right," Jaclyn said, nodding. "He could be used as a battery at worst and a dragon killer at best," she said, grinning. Elianore nodded. "Shall we merge our armies as well for the final assault of Aria?"

"Yes, we shall in the morning," Elianore said. "For now, my men and I are itching to raid something."

"Village, two leagues north," Jaclyn said. "Make sure the food is communal property, the rest is yours and your men."

"So mine."

"How did I know you'd say that?" Jaclyn sighed.

"Because you know me," Elianore replied. "It's good to see you, Jaclyn. This will be profitable for both of us."

🜂🜂

Grigori rubbed his hand against the new tunic again. It was so soft, nothing like the stiff wool the dwarves used. Ovar rumbled as he settled on Grigori's shoulder. Grigori looked around the library where Brutus had dumped him, saying that they had more important things to do.

"So, what should we read Ovar?" he asked.

"Don't ask me, I can't read."

"You can't read."

"I am two days old, Grigori," Ovar replied.

"Well, what kind of stuff do you want to hear?" Grigori asked, looking at all the books. They looked so stiff and beautiful. His fingers brushed along the spine of one. "The Unicorn."

"Sure," Ovar replied, shuffling and settling on Grigori's shoulder. Grigori pulled the book out of the shelf and blew the dust off of the book. He walked to one of the armchairs and began to read it out loud.

"Once, long ago, in the dying hours of the Age of Beasts, when Humans began to walk the face of Excelsian, there were the unicorns. They were wise and gracious, the children of the moons.

But they were being hunted," Grigori paused as Ovar inhaled sharply. "By a witch, who was gathering their blood for dark purposes. After many years of the Hunt, only one Unicorn was left, on the great continent to the east. She was tired of running and instead chose to hide in a little village, where she had made a friend of a young woman by the name of Anele.

Anele was a warrior, the protector of the unicorn. For many years, the two of them lived quietly. But someone was jealous of their closeness and the long life it brought Anele. So, for a large sum of money, he told the witch where the friends were staying.

Anele caught wind of the plot against them and fled towards the mountains of Vala with the unicorn, the witch following them.

Eventually, exhausted and battered by the demons the witch sent after them, they faced the witch. The battle shook the heavens and lasted three days but Anele and the unicorn persevered. The witch lay dying at Anele's feet and with her last breath, cursed the unicorn and Anele, binding the unicorn to Anele's bloodline, so that when Anele died, so would the last unicorn, assuming that Anele would never lower herself to marriage.

The witch was wrong. Anele found a lover and soon gave birth to a daughter and as she did, a new unicorn was born from the white lilies and when Anele died alongside the unicorn, she passed her birthright to her daughter, and when her daughter died with her unicorn, the birthright passed to her son and it shall so progress until the end of days."

Grigori closed the book. Why did that story seem so familiar to him? He stared quietly at the cover, trying to remember where he had heard it. His brow furrowed as he traced the symbol on the cover. Where had he seen that?

"The medallion Fala gave you," Ovar said. Grigori looked at him. Ovar gestured at the symbol with his nose. Grigori felt around in his belt pouches until he found it, squinting. Ovar was right.

"Huh," Grigori mumbled, jumping as the door to the library opened. He tucked the medallion away as the female soldier, he was pretty sure her name was Sacha, from the day before stormed in, grabbing a book and slamming it on a table. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. She turned around, her ears becoming pink.

"The tracker for the escort has gone missing," she explained, rage creeping into her voice. "Without him, we don't have anyone who knows the safest way to Nevern."

"Nevern?"

"It's a port city. We'll have a boat waiting for us there," she explained. "We'll get you, the little dragon and I on board and we'll be sailing for the nesting island. Once we get on the boat, we should be safe. Elianore and Jaclyn may control the continent, but the Royal Navy still controls the sea."

Grigori nodded, cocking his head.

"So, you are plotting our route?" he asked.

"Yes," Sacha replied, running her fingers through her black bangs. "It'll take us about four weeks to get there without horses."

"Why can't we have horses?"

"You don't know how to ride and you'll be newly Awakened. You won't be able to stay in the saddle. Also, horses need food, so more packing."

"Ah," Grigori said, nodding stiffly. It made sense, but it still stung that she thought he wouldn’t be able to stay in the saddle. “I have to go to… Do the thing.”

Grigori sat down on the bench, facing Syralth, Ovar perched on his lap and sniffing Syralth's hands, which were covered in faint crisscrossed scars. Syralth's gold eyes had slight bags under them and his blue hair was unkempt, standing up in all directions.

"Are you alright?" Grigori asked. "We can do this another time if you want." Syralth shook his head.

"I do not enjoy being awake at night, but it has to be done now, in the light of the moon," Syralth replied.

"Why?"

"I'll explain in the morning," Syralth replied. Grigori nodded, his breath shortening. Shouldn't there be a medic on hand? "Give me your hands, Grigori. I'll try to make this as painless as possible."

"Thank you," Grigori said, holding out his hands, wishing that they would stop shaking. Syralth took them in his own, they were rough, but not as rough as the hands of dwarves.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath."

Grigori did as he was told, his chest rising and falling as he began slowing down the inhale and the exhale. In and out, up and down. His hands began to tingle.

"By Lila's Grace, Tyrius' Wit and Zilla's Brash, this soul has come to me, your humble servant to Awaken the primal forces that lie within," Syralth said, his voice growing low and guttural. "The forces that connect us are wild but bind us to the world. To the elements, to each other, to time and to those beyond our reach. I open the gates to this world."

Pain began to seep up Grigori's hand, colder than the water in the underground streams, it felt like his blood was freezing in his veins. Tears began streaming down his face, his whole body telling him to pull away, that his hands were dead.

"Grigori," Ovar called out. "Don't you dare leave me alone."

"I, it, it hurts," Grigori whispered, lips trembling, spine stiff, every muscle and fibre burning and screaming at him. He was going to die, he could feel his heart changing, slowing.

Slowly, the pain changed, warmth creeping through his body, smoother than tea mixed with honey. It stalled the progression of the cold throughout his body, spreading from deep in his stomach.

And then, trickling away just as it had crept up his arms, the cold vanished. Grigori slumped forward, Syralth catching him. He took a shaky breath.

"Grigori?" Ovar asked.

"I, I'm alive," Grigori whispered, trying to sit up. Ovar licked his chin. Syralth helped him stand up, Grigori's arm over his broad shoulders.

"Let us retire," Syralth said. "On the morrow, we will meet and I'll begin teaching you the basics of healing and air magic."

"Alright," Grigori mumbled as Syralth half supported, half carried him to his room, setting him on the fluffy bed. "Thank you."

"Sleep, you shall need it."

"Mmhm," Grigori flopped back on the bed. His whole body ached, even his teeth. He looked at Ovar as the little dragon scrambled up onto the bed.

"You dropped me."

"Oops. I'm sorry," Grigori said. Ovar huffed and clambered up onto the other pillow, curling up into a ball.

"You're still hurting," he said. Grigori nodded. "You almost died."

"I know," Grigori said, feeling a sudden surge of relief course through him and he stared at the embroidered canopy. Tears began to trickle down his cheek, uninvited but there all the same. Ovar crept over to beside his face and licked it gently.

"Oh Lila, I almost died Ovar. What would have happened to you," he whispered.

"I would have gone back to your Doma and told them that you were brave."

"You think I'm brave?"

"Of course I do," Ovar said. "You dropped everything to bring me home and you blew up

Elianore. You're either brave or really stupid."

"Thanks, Ovar."

"You're welcome,” Ovar said, curling up.