Ardaik 18th - Tulot, Serellia

Moving the ancient black dragon was no small feat and had taken hours. Tulot Castle sat atop a throne of a hill, the crest of which had been removed and cut into the stones used to fashion the castle itself and her walls. More stone had been carved out from within the hill, creating a sheltered cavern, which had served as many things over the ages—a wine cellar, dungeon, and fortress shelter for the townspeople during Serellia's feudal age. Later, it came to house Serellia's legion of dragons.

Yuli had understood that the cave entrance normally wasn't visibly guarded by bars or doors. Anyone who wished to chance their luck with a den of dragons was more than welcome to attempt to do so, and often regretted the foolish decision if they lived to reflect on it. This wasn't at all the case presently.

She was horrified to bear witness to what was transpiring.

It took several of Serellia's own dragons pulling a bed of giant, hewn logs rolling beneath Auganull, to move him to their desired holding place. They had speared and jabbed at him to prod him into shakily climb onto the logs in the first place, then he'd been subjected to a continuation of being pelted by an assortment of projectiles from the angry crowd of humans that followed, whom still had yet to be deterred entirely by the guardsmen.

The slow circusshow of a procession towards the cavern made Yuli sick. They threw rocks, shot arrows, hurled rancid produce, and what she could only imagine were derogatory slurs in common. Even with her extensive working knowledge of the language, she didn't recognize some of them.

Vaklo did his best to shield her from becoming subject to any of the abuse as they followed, but it was a somewhat futile pursuit. Vaklo and herself were very clearly representatives of the Citadel, their clothing was indication enough. Being of a different race, with the freedoms they had, only made their institution all the more apparent.

Her long, gown-like, fitted, outer coat now sported hideous stains, and one of her knees and shins was soaked and dirty from where she'd been nearly shoved to the ground by a few men who'd dived for them. Vaklo had managed to keep her from tumbling over entirely, but one of her horns had been yanked on in the struggle; an indecency she'd never been subjected to before. It'd caused her entire being to burn with fury and embarrassment. Surly, only a taste of what the ancient dragon likely felt.

Only once Auganull had finally been situated within the confines of the deep cavern, had the crowd become much less of a threat, trapped near the opening, and allowed no farther.

"No wonder they aren't able to govern magic in their own lands," said Vaklo, the disdain evident in his words. "My apologies," he added when he noticed the stain on her uniform.

"Fear is a powerful force," Yuli replied quietly. "In some ways, more so than magic."

As Yuli drew nearer to Auganull, she could feel the rush of air from his labored breaths. They even tousled some of her moonlight-colored locks.

"Careful, Lady Mage," one of the apothecaries warned, causing her hand to hitch mid-air when she'd reached to touch Auganull's snout. "He's a little more wary then he was earlier. We'll take care of that in a moment." The woman motioned to the other apothecaries with the lantern she held. They were busy setting up a space to work, since they too had needed to relocate along with the dragon.

"What are you administering for his pain?" Yuli asked, her light, melodic tone a stark contrast to that of the medicine woman's.

"Pain?" huffed the apothecary.

"Yes."

The woman's frown deepened. "Only sedatives."

Yuli drew in a slow breath through her nose, then gathered the flaps of her coat so that she could more carefully navigate the rough and ragged floor of the cavern.

"What are ya doin'?" the apothecary asked, following, bringing her precious circle of light with her.

Yuli didn't need the lantern to see where she was going. Nor to see the irritation and swelling around the laceration in Auganull's side. The damage the smaller dragons had done was quite extensive. Burns from lightning bolts, poisonous acid that was likely still slowly eating away at the edges of the wound...

The high cleric extended her palms out towards the beast, and a faint bluish-white glow, like that of the elves' bane flower, began to radiate off of them.

"What're ya doing?!" Balked the woman, drawing the attention of the others, and of the guards. "Are ya healin' em? Are ya mad?!"

"I can't question him, nor hope to learn more about his allies if he dies from his wounds!" Yuli snapped, which the humans took as well as being threatened by a child.

"If Auganull the Black dies here beneath the castle, it would be nothin' short'a what he deserves," stated a guard. "Let the hatchlings feast on him as fervently as he gorged on the broods before them."

Yuli paused her work to face the humans who'd come closer. "Need I go to your king and tell him you've refused to allow me to complete my work?"

The apothecaries and guards had fallen silent.

"Because if you think an ancient dragon an inconvenient foe, then perhaps you should carefully consider the scope of what your noncompliance here would garner from the Citadel of Magic."

Albeit with a visible reluctance, the small band of humans withdrew back to their areas of work, leaving Yuli to her own.

"They are right," the dragon's grumble rolled along the stone walls, startling the tiat. "Mercy is for the weak..."

Curiosity tilted her head, and she carefully made her way back to where she was within view of one of the dragon's eyes. At this distance, she could actually make out the back-lit silhouette of her own reflection within the amber of his iris, flecked with green and red hues, standing beside the large dark slit of his pupil. "And empathy is for the wise," she replied, though it seemed more of a recital rather than a conviction. "You present an interesting contradiction, however...if I assume that you were referring to me as the 'weak' one. Mercy, by my understanding, can only be bestowed by the party in a position to harm; the powerful." She took a moment to tuck a strand of her hair behind one of her pointed ears. "You are in less pain now, correct?"

A low rumble left the dragon that raddled Yuli's ribcage.

"May we talk about your friend?" she wondered, seating herself on a relatively flat expanse of rock, and folding her legs beneath herself. There didn't seem to be much point in trying to avoid the sooty sediment blanketing the cavern floor, considering her current state, so she might as well at least be a little more comfortable.

"I've no use for friends..."

"I wonder what drew you from the Slough, then," she commented patiently while adjusting the fur of her coat collar. "The Lorellian capital is a considerable distance from here. Well beyond where you're reported to usually hunt."

"Why talk if you already know?" The dragon's gravelly voice dripped with contempt.

Yuli didn't seem bothered by it. "It's my job to investigate Obtoxicullous," she replied, noting the slight dilation in his eye as the name was uttered. "And I don't know you, beyond what limited knowledge the Serellians possess, which... seems to be largely anecdotal at best."

A drawn-out sigh left the dragon through his nose in the form of smoke, that clearly alarmed the guards still alertly patrolling the cavern like bugs whose nest was recently disturbed.

"...Auganull? ...Why were you with the necromancer in La'Trest?"

Finally, after what felt like far longer than it was, the dragon's lips pulled back, lantern light gleaming off of rows of pearlesque, razor-sharp teeth as he spoke. "He owed me."

"...Something you wanted?" There was a spark of excitement in the little mage's voice.

The way she scooted a hair closer elicited something irritating deep in Auganull's chest. Something old... Something that had iced over ages ago.

Another growl rippled through his long neck and out his throat.

She'd been coaxed close enough that he was certain a hard thrash could connect. He'd been able to damage a few of the soldiers while restrained, so there was no doubt in his mind that he could snap her diminutive form. He wondered what a tiat's blood smelled like. Would it be the same color as a human's?

"What was it that you wanted?" Her reiteration of her question saw his eyes narrow.

"Her."

"You sought the white dragon?" Yuli asked. It made sense. He had, afterall, chased the other ancient dragon to Tulot...had risked a confrontation, despite already being fatigued. "How interesting..."

Auganull hissed, "Is it?"

"Yes," she replied, folding her hands in her lap. "But what did he want?"

The dragon's brow raised.

"If the two of you aren't friends, as you said, and if you were moved by your desire to find the relic, which Kamuhr was released from, then that makes the attack on La'Trest sound like your errand. What did he want in return? Why did Obtoxicullous personally bring an army of undead marching into Lorellia? What did he want?"