The Storm Traited immediately felt self conscious by the small crowd before her.

Illuminated by the low lit room embedded by Sunspell ruins, it was so blinding those present could likely see the ripples of anxiety off her cloak. A winding set of hidden stairs led up and below to tunnels unknown but were left clear for any others to move along without being delayed.

The dead end at the back of the room suddenly split in two, scattering soil effortlessly to reveal a much larger group of Tinker Moles rushing in before the walls closing back in behind them. Several chairs were set out around a wide longtable made of Ironwood but not a single member present had decided to sit down, all waiting for the rest of the Council to arrive.

"Curious? These very walls were made by my ancestor Leaffa's Charger Craft. They still work along with her many other contributions to the Labyrinth she built with her own two claws. Ingenious, isn't it?" Anirri said, a futile attempt to distract the jittery Traited.

The trio remained near the entrance, the Sand Wraith remaining glued to the Fatekeeper's side as Nivara hovered behind them, barely able to recognise their faces and weapons. Nivara was almost grateful for the Mist Maiden's extensive network of underground spies to help fill in the gaps of who was what. Anirii slowed her pace to match the Mist Maiden, gently coaxing her to where she needed to go.

"The Council of Names will not harm you Nivara, not while I'm here. So do as my ansector did, plant yourself firmly and prove them wrong. Perhaps you'll create a bigger legacy than she did, hmm?"

"I think the moving city of Axis would definitely disagree with you on that, Anirri." Nivara quipped, her voice a little less shaky than before.

It was her last outing as Tempest but her first as the Stormkeeper. There was no need to change who she was. With Odi's mask, her inherited cloak and her Tempest namesake not even the Mist Maiden's knew the scar on her face and the name she gave up to do so.

Creed was the first person since the day she took her vow. These people, this Council may have discovered it but they had no right to it. It hadn't been given freely and that was what irritated her the most. The Mist Maiden tried to find comfort in that vow, smiling evenly as she took her place on the opposite side of the room to Hack and brazenly sat down.

"It is good to see you again, Nivara. Despite the circumstances."

Her eyes caught the familiar stern gaze of the Ravenback's Captain of the Guard, softened slightly by guilt and a clear devotion to the other leaders attending. Calvaros no longer wore his battle uniform, his fur pitch black without the cyan and indigo warpaint but still retaining his proud raven leather armour and mask at his side. She observed him coolly, still perturbed by his meddling but gave him a simple nod in reply.

"Provided you did as I asked, it is. I hope the journey to the Undercity wasn't too taxing for you." She replied evenly, trying to hide her annoyed tone.

Folding her arms, her attention drifted towards the overprotective Sand Wraith trying to get past a mob of mole kits to no success. He growled at the nearest one only for Anirri to unceremoniously whack the grumpy Sand Wraith with her stick. She snorted, startling Calvaros before he continued the discussion.

"It wasn't, thanks to you. The Raven Lord should be here to greet you soon as our other members arrive."

The sulking Sand Wraith leaned against the front wall, his scales camouflaging with its rocky surface despite the forming bruise on his arm. It was rare to see the Dunefur, Ravenback and Gadgeteer clans all together but there would always be those who stuck out in a sea of Crafters.

"Other members?"

Calvaros ignored the question, beady eyes looking away towards his men expecting orders from his abject uneasiness. Some were looking towards the Fatekeeper expectantly, Anirri weaving seamlessly through her people to settle on a corner near the entrance. Just enough for a Sand Wraith to keep an eye in case of trouble.

"Your storm may have assisted us in being undetected but for others it may have caused...complications in travelling here." Calvaros admitted, readjusting the mask in his lap a little.

Before Nivara could respond a booming drumbeat of warhammers slammed against packed earth ascended the steps, a war party large enough to intimidate a few scuttling moles nearby. Nivara's mouth tweaked into a smile, noting the distinct lack of a pompous Raven Lord heir nearby.

Noirr's lack of appearance didn't deter the Havalogs, badger like faces blazoned in orange and red warpaint as if a purposeful direct contrast to Calvaros' Shadow Battalion. Their snouts were almost hog like with gleaming, large tusks that were adorned with a variety of carvings or jewellery depending on their status. Their tusks were everything to Havalogs, if they were damaged in any way they were exiled from the clan. For good.

"Who is this halvasca to question Nocturus' methods? We do not know her yet she speaks to the Captain of the Guard like he is nothing but the silt between his claws!"

The Havalog chieftain stepped forward, his warhammer blazing emerald compared to the others amber weapons. Nivara leaned forwards on her chair, eyes narrowed at his choice of words reminding her of the Silt Pillars she had just escaped from.

"The Tempest of Caldor has agreed to join us for tonight's meeting, Tuskarr." Anirri interrupted, the Havalog chief already giving a grunt of disapproval.

Nivara could feel the gnawing of her Trait surrounding the edges of the room in a swathe of mist, desperate to calm herself down. It wasn't hard to tell she wasn't the only one rattled by the Havalogs presence, brief flashes of light sparking from a small group of black furred Tinker Moles. Surmising they were playing with their Luster Craft, Nivara tried to focus on the conversation but a strange looking elven caught her eye.

"She holds the same standing as we do so please, make her feel welcome before you start berating her with unnecessary questions." Anirri continued, the Mist Maiden in question distracted by the glowing light emanating from the Forecaster.

The silver haired elf was tall but waif-like, severely scarred along her neck, ears and hands. She was hidden mostly by a crowd of Tinker Moles and a grey cloak but continued to entertain the younger pups, the hewn rock being illuminated by her light. It spread around the room in a halo-like glow as Tuskarr continued to argue, his warparty interrupted once more by a loud clap.

"Well said, Fatekeeper. She has every right to be wary of us as we have the right to be wary of her. After all, it's not every day you stumble across two Keepers of Trait."

The unfamiliar voice burst through the secluded war room, an amalgamation of accents as if not quite sure where to place its origin. The typical slow drawl of Nocturian was easy to place but the mix of sharp vowels and a jovial yet mocking tone reminded her of the merchants from Opalis and strangely, the Undercity.

"Must you involve me in this as well, Gizmo? I was promised a room with a view not side stage to a storm."

A glimmer of golden scales ascended up the staircase far more gracefully than Tuskarr's party had done so but the Tinker Mole beside her looked just the same as Anirri. Roughly the same height, the golden dragon respected the size limitations the Labyrinth provided but not much else.

"Sorry. Occupational hazard."

Nivara shrugged, polite chuckling filled the room as the much younger Tinker Moles began to filter off and out of the room. She could still feel the storm broiling thousands of metres above them but its control was far beyond her reach with her underground.

The two latecomers remained close to the exits, clearly uncomfortable or simply unwilling to socialise quite yet, waiting and observing quietly. Gizmo straightened his waistcoat, a similar but far slender cane at his side as he rolled it in his claws nervously.

As if on cue, a swirl of dirt began to darken within the centre of the room like a shadow creeping across the moon. The light conjuring elf seemed to stiffen at the sight of the strange Trait, too light to be earth but still flaking and forming like petals in the wind.

It took a moment for Nivara to realise, the last time she had seen such a rare Trait it was coating her nails. She couldn't place where the ash was coming from but there was no mistaking a Transference, especially one as flashy as that.

"Apologies if my Trait startled you somewhat, Guildmaster Gizmo. My Agar, Sashio always has a way of riling things up. Much like yourself, in a way."

The woman dressed all in black tipped her hat in the direction of the lone Mist Maiden, remaining in the shadows of the alcove away from the now relaxed glowing elf. The other Traited was much older than Nivara, wisps of grey peeking out of her tied up hair as various strands of black, navy and brown caught the light.

Her grey eyes were stern with heavyset wrinkles but focused on a disgruntled Gizmo and a now purring Goldclaw dragon, leaping onto her shoulder in demand of attention. She laughed, scritching her partner in thanks as they seperated from the unamused Gadgeteers Guildmaster.

Nivara raised an eyebrow in recognition, recalling the words from moments ago and settling back into her seat. It was strangely comforting to see an Agar pairing as less of a slave pact after her short time with Willow. With a pang of regret and relief at discovering she wasn't the only Traited here, her cloak ruffled in response as if to say 'at least they are happy together.'

"Aww, did I ruin your moment? Kallie's never been very good at acting tough like her Master. Kirai was always..."

Sashio was gently hushed, a false laugh of amusement from her Agar hiding a far more concerning expression. Embarrassment. Nivara tried to smile but it was like her mouth was stuck, silently witnessing the mood in the room change from light banter to stark silence in a matter of seconds.

"Damn that, Night Rider. He's the reason we're in this mess to begin with." Tuskarr huffed, settled in the furthest seat from the pair.

Nivara rested her hands on her lap, clasping them together as she tried to steady her beating heart and remained silent. The Night Rider. A tale to scare off young Traited like a nightmare shared under a campfire or a warning from experienced Traited in a hushed tone. She had never heard his name before. Kirai.

"Now, now Tuskarr. It is not all of his fault. He couldn't avoid the way of things any more than his other predecessors could." The Fatekeeper interrupted, attempting to ease the room back into a state of calm.

Nivara knew she had been too young to experience the destruction, the pain the Night Rider had caused. What snippets she did catch were only ever shared through early morning shifts and desperate Traited within their last moments. Not even the most desperate of cultists would dare praise to act in such a manner.

"I think you're right, Anirri. But we should steer this conversation elsewhere. Before it triggers something they will have to forget."

Every Tinker Mole that remained in the war room stood to attention, the Sunspell runes blaring and flickering in contrast to the calm descent of the Raven Lord. With every arrival of a prominent leader they had ascended the stairs as if rising to the occasion and position they held. He was the only one who descended them.

With the weight of all the Tinker Mole clans on his back, the silver raven mask looked shabby compared to Calvaros' well kept one. Nivara couldn't help but catch his eyes, the Tinker Mole's back ramrod straight in response to his master's slightly hunched form.

"Yeah, right. Like we can forget anything that halvasca did."

The Raven Lord flinched at the foot of the stairs, hovering a moment to allow the Havalog chieftains comment to hang in the air like a bad rumour, daring anyone to respond. He was mostly covered in a threadbare cloak covered in slightly shredded feathers that hid most of his features but despite how exhausted he looked not even Nivara could look him in the eyes. Instead her attention moved to Calvaros' anger, from Tuskarr's arrogance and finally, to the Sunspell elf hiding in the corner.

"My lord. Forgive me, I..."

Calvaros was cut off by a gentle wave of dismissal, shutting down any attempts to apologise on Tuskarr's behalf. The Raven Lord took a moment to cast his eyes over the room, much like she had done the first moment they had arrived.

His gaze wasn't cold or commanding, it was barely a moment but Nivara swore she felt a hint of warmth radiating from the room. She looked away for a brief moment and in that moment the Raven Lord took his seat, placed his hands in his lap and everything changed.

"You Havalogs seem to have a short memory about who is present here. We don't want history to repeat itself. Or did you forget about what happened to your predecessor?"

"You dare insult Celtic-"

"It is not Celtic who has disappointed me, Tuskarr."

The Raven Lord's frail stance was now a distant memory, replaced with a quick and cutting reminder that he was the one in control.

"After all, it is rude to ignore our guests, especially an unaware Stormkeeper such as yourself, Nivara."

He sat forwards in his seat, resting his chin on his hands, inquisitively staring at them all much like the old bird of prey he portrayed.

"Don't call me that. I'm not what you think. I'm just here because Anirii asked me to, that's all."

"If that were all you wouldn't have your Trait to begin with, Tempest."

A single phrase was all that took to silence the last Mist Maiden of Caldor. She didn't hear the sharp intake of breath escape her lungs, flashes of Wayward burning along with her. Tears brimmed at the side of her mask, desperate to escape the sharp pricks of pain the arkalite mask brought.

"You may have rescued twenty four Traited under the borders of Opalis but who's to say the Stormkeeper could not do more? You're neglecting your talents and for what? Revenge?"

Frost gathered beneath the table legs, unrelenting and biting but not yet all consuming the toughest wood in all of Nocturus. The storm broiled within her vision, hot and cold all at once too bracing to touch but somehow within her grasp.

"I don't need to explain myself to you or anyone here, Raven Lord."

The female elf shrank away from the sound of Nivara's voice, rubbing her hands together as if all the warmth had been shut out of the room. Glancing down at the chilled space she had conjured she quickly reined herself in, her Trait hissing angrily in response. She clamped it down like a snake trapped in a basket, the ice coiled tight and waiting to spring out but never given the chance to do so.

"Clearly. Your last refugee, Creed was it? Not only was he the next candidate for Timekeeper but his Oathed is also our Gamekeeper's sister. Two very important people who would be best kept an eye on, hmm?"

The Raven Lord leaned an arm back on his chair much like her grandmother did when telling her stories under starlight. But this, this was a mockery of her memory, an insult to all she was to her family and it was meant to infuriate her. It would not work.

"I'm not fit to look after Creed. I'm barely older than he is and Willow's family ties are none of my business." Nivara reiterated, clearly stating her intentions and ignored the Goldclaw dragons growls.

"My sister is far more capable-"

"But you gave him your word, your name, even a page out of your own grimoire. Surely that meant nothing to you?"

The Raven Lord's attention was solely on the Mist Maiden, daring to ignore a dragon's outburst in favour of another's. But all Nivara cared about was that the stupid, blabbermouth Captain of the Guard felt her ire.

"You had no right to know that. No right to pry. I kept Creed away from the Taishin, from his father, even his very Trait from destroying everything without any help from the likes of you."

Nivara's chair slammed into the packed earth, her legs shaking without even registering she had gotten to her feet. The wraps on her arms had already begun to unravel, her old cloak humming with kinetic energy as just a single accusatory finger was enough to crack the Raven Lord's mask. He took it off.

"All to save yourself. How noble of you."

On any other day, Nivara might've laughed in his face at him daring to mention the fall of the monarchy, a nobility that had never been hers to want. That was before he showed his face. The irony of the Raven Lord's identity filled her with enough mirth to make Wayward seem like a summer breeze passing through. He was an elf.

"Unless you have any reason for wanting me here then I'm done listening to a Wildspell elf with half baked speculations on what I do with my life."

The first words Anirri spoke to her rang in her mind, the story of Leaffa's work and how even in death she continued to watch over her people. Even now, so far underground Nivara's storm demanded retribution. She would not provide it.

Turning away from this Council of Names she fought every step, her frost attempting to pin her in place and finish what she started. But no grimoire came. No flash of lighting erupting into the earth. Just a slow clap echoing throughout the chamber.

"Well done. Very well done, Nessra."

Nivara knew he had been testing her. She knew within her brain that all of those grating, frustrating insults were just to try and rile her up. But her Trait just didn't care. All of that built up pressure erupted at the sound of her name, frost, mist, hail and lightning merging into a compact storm of mass proportions.

It was barely a drop of sweat from her palms but as she turned around to face the Raven Lord it flung towards him and morphed into a compact marble of sheer elemental force. Not even summoning her grimoire could stop it. Before she had time to shout out a warning, a plinth of stone surrounded the entire table to protect all of the Council before the storm struck.

Neither Traits cancelled each other out but collided on impact, the storm slicing through the sheer hardrock of the Sand Wraith's defensive style. With a flick of his claws Hack's Trait turned slack like mud, absorbing the sheer impact of the storm before it surged back into the ground.

"I'm sorry I had to test you so rudely but it was necessary to see how much your Trait had grown. It seems it has tempered alongside you despite your initial...mishap in controlling it."

If anyone was terrified they certainly wouldn't allow themselves to show it, the Raven Lord remaining maskless but still impassive towards the entire situation. It irritated the Stormkeeper even more, his blase response to such a destructive force seeming like a normal day at the office. Nivara tried to busy her mind by checking through her equipment without drawing attention, hoping her mask wasn't cracked while her hands brushed past her new cloak to check for tears.

"Yet you were the one to decide that alone? You're more arrogant than I thought, Raven Lord."

The Raven Lord completely ignored her, Nivara's furious glare attempting to bore a hole in his head. His black hair was tinged with grey, along with his much lighter grey skin alluding to his once Nightspell heritage. Half expecting him to dispel her Trait with a rune, Hack's intervention only confirmed his Wildspell elf status.

"The title of Stormkeeper is in safe hands with you. You avoided summoning the storm or your grimoire. Commendable indeed."

Nivara fought the urge to roll her eyes, his sudden u turn of abject praise half tempting her to walk out of the boardroom a second time.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Mist Maiden folded her arms impatiently, the elf giving her nothing more than a sad smile in reply. His gaze turned to the other elven in the room, her wariness towards Nivara still at the forefront of her mind. The elven woman nodded hesitantly before lowering her hood.

Nivara was grateful for her mask to hide her horrified expression, the elf signing in reply to the Raven Lord's silent question. Guessing she might be deaf the Mist Maiden tried to follow along with her limited knowledge of Neridian sign language but the speed was too quick for her to translate properly. The only word she managed to catch was 'Rayner.'

But the elven woman's mutilated ears put a pin in her theory, realising that the Raven Lord continued to respond exactly like anyone else. Nivara's eyes narrowed in disgust, she knew the Taishin's work when she saw it. It made her sick to think she hadn't even considered they had tortured their own people in response to their perfect Forecaster lineage. Not even the Laia was worth this.

"It means that more than just you have grown up without remembering your Trait properly."

Rayner's voice cut through her anger immediately, sending it plummeting into fear at what else she didn't know. The storm prickled against her fingertips, burning her nails at the quick at the annoyance of having to repeat the same question.

"How did you know about that?"

Rayner took his time answering, quietly offering her seat with the same blasé gesture he had given to Calvaros. It seems she was in for another round of cat and mouse. She wouldn't be dissuaded a second time. Nivara raised her chin, refusing to take the offer and remain standing.

"More and more Traited are growing up without the early development skills needed to control such a volatile power. They learn them, but somehow by the time they reach adulthood those memories don't just fade over time. They disappear entirely."

The Council of Names immediately hushed at such a revelation, the murmur of small talk died as the Raven Lord's words passed along the table. Nivara surveyed the room, her mist coiling at her sides like a cat. It became tangible in an instant, the indigo cloud dense weight more than enough to pick up and reright her chair before sitting down.

"How do you know it wasn't just me?"

Her voice far quieter than intended, the long swathes of material hiding her shaking hands at the thought of her question being denied. Nivara wasn't sure she even wanted to hear the answer.

"The previous Timekeeper before Creed told me he had no idea of his abilities either. His family line has been a troubled one and I fear things have not ended the way I had hoped." Rayner explained, his melancholy tone worrying everyone around him.

Nivara pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to process all the information in an attempt to piece together what the Raven Lord had alluded to. Lacking the necessary memories to fully use their Trait seemed unnecessary for someone so young but for Nivara it was crucial to learning even the most basic forms of Trait.

"You mean more than just Creed has been named a Keeper of Trait?"

From summoning your grimoire to having a partner beside you who would be willing to guide you through the contract, not being able to remember your own partner could be devastating for both Traited and partner. Nivara shuddered at the thought of never remembering Kaldra again, panicking just as she did when her storm first emerged. Not having the building blocks of being a Traited was like not being able to breathe.

"Once upon a time, yes. His father Strongbow was under my care for quite a while. Left here by his youngest son Swift after an incident in Nocturus left them in bad shape. It's only been recently that I knew Strongbow sired another family."

Nivara feigned indifference, crossing her ankles as she remained speechless for several seconds. None of her investigations in Wayward ever went this far but she still didn't trust Rayner despite his connections with Anirri and Calvaros. This Strongbow must've used a fake name because she had never heard of him.

"Understandable, considering the Dominion blocks all Trait made communications outside of Caldor." Gizmo interrupted half heartedly, as if he didn't want to be seen agreeing with him.

Nivara didn't give a damn about the Guildmaster's grudges, her mother's advice ringing in her mind. Only Abnormal grimoires could be inherited through family, through a blood contract and only without any family would it be inherited randomly. But regardless of what Odi had said, Nivara didn't believe in randomness. It always turned out to be the closest person to her.

"It's true. Creed's father was the Timekeeper before the incident. His son Swift exhibited abilities similar to the Bookkeeper but he outright rejected them as some sort of illness that not even Lady Quilla could heal." Anirri added, as if recalling the very memory firsthand.

Beneath her cloak, Kaldra began to squirm as the Mist Maiden tried to keep calm and not flash freeze anyone with her Trait. Resting her arm on her chest she tried to soothe her Oathed and thankfully settled back down again.

"Trill. He called it a Trill."

Tuskarr's response was strangely quiet compared to his previous outspoken comments, his reserved nature hinting at how personal the topic was to him. The Havalog rested a steady claw against the silvery handle of the warhammer, not wanting to elaborate further.

Nivara didn't have to guess what happened to recognise the same heartbreak in his eyes. The Sand Wraith saw no such heartbreak, deciding to continue the story of the previous Keeper of Trait.

"Not to mention his twin: Stealth. Last I heard he was heading to Neridia to join the war effort. Poor kid lost his way after..."

Hack trailed off, stopping himself in alarm before realising his blunder and looked towards the Raven Lord in wide eyed apology. Rayner said nothing. Remaining in tight lipped fury he was clearly troubled by the slip up but even with his mask removed he remained impassive.

"It's alright, my compass. I know you meant well." Anirri reassured him, his dejected face trying to perk up a little.

"I'll try to remember next time. Sorry Anirri."

Hack lowered his head in shame, scratching his neck with an idle claw but Nivara was completely stumped with the interaction. So she focused on something else. Tuskarr's melancholy stuck in her mind along with the question that more than just Swift had been struck with this Trill. More importantly, it involved Havalogs.

Nivara's scar burned, stopping her hand from flinching as the face of the man she had once known as the Timekeeper.
She might not have known the name of the Fire Traited she killed as a slave but there was no mistaking his power and more importantly, his fear at having his grimoire destroyed and sent across the entire desert. He had no family. So the cycle had begun anew.

"First name basis with the Fatekeeper too? Well, aren't you special Hackerby?" Sashio tittered, the vain Goldclaw dragon still attempting to grab all the attention for all she was worth.

Nivara couldn't help but think that she could even give Kaldra a run for her money had she not been stuck hiding in her cloak. But despite her lack of Oathed present, the Sand Wraith only grumbled intelligibly while the two blushed once more.

The Mist Maiden didn't need to glance around to know that everyone in the damn room knew exactly what she did. That they were fully aware of the Fatekeeper's obliviousness and would continue to remain that way unless the Laia struck them down. Sashio however, didn't give a damn about that.

"Oh leave him be. You're just jealous I'm not the only Traited invited here anymore, Sashie." Kalaris reprimanded her Agar, tapping her on the nose gently til she yelped and the two began to bicker.

Nivara rolled her eyes at the typical behaviour, smiling a little at the antics as it reminded her of her own partnership. Her heart ached for her family but she took a breath and decided to stick to questioning once more.

"I didn't know an entire family could be made up of potential Keepers of Trait. Which means if Creed had siblings..."

Nivara didn't need anyone to confirm it. If all of Creed's family had been affected as Keepers of Trait then there was no doubt they would've been hunted just like Creed had done. Even if it was too far from the Taishin's reach there was no hiding the power entailed within their Trait, their Abnormal grimoire.

Much like the Water Traited who had hounded her before becoming Tempest she didn't need to picture the potential encounters Creed or his siblings would've had with other Traited. Suspicious. Unnerving. Jealousy. Fear. So young but without anyone to fully trust without being constantly hounded for questions or proof of who or what they were.

"They must've done a fine job of looking after him."

Hack's dry humour made Arirri giggle nervously but the Goldclaw dragon flinched at the connotations, Nivara almost forgetting that she was a Keeper of Trait herself.

"Like I'm sure you did with Anirri's family, Hack."

Sashio's comment dropped like a stone, Hack's fury immediately turning the room into a shaking earthquake at the sight of the Tinker Mole's distress triggering his anger. But before Hack's Trait could be released on the Council of Names a tremendous roar shook the anger straight out of him.

No one else dared to move, the very cave that held the Charger Craft Anirri was so proud of fizzled out as both sets of staircases became nothing more than shadows. Not even Nivara's mist could detect the swiftness of the unfamiliar Shadow Traited for the very behemoth blocking the entrance was the only thing enrapturing everyone's attention. The large, coarse frame of a dragon entered into the light.

Unlike Sashio who was seemingly uncomfortable with her shrunken size this dragon exuded confidence regardless of what size she chose. Her silvery blue scales contrasted with the low light of the Sunspell, beautiful yet deadly as the Silverwing dragon remained where she was. Fashionably late, suitably disapproved the Council braced themselves for another roar.

"Enough. We have far more at stake than your meager social standing Sashio. Quit badgering the Sand Wraith and let him be."

The Goldclaw immediately backed down, the authority of the dragon before her causing even her to lower her head in apology. Nivara watched dumbfounded, the power play already subduing the outspoken dragon but Hack was still infuriated.

"She dared to insult the Fatekeeper-"

The Sand Wraith's words were cut quick by a knife against his throat, made purely of tangible shadow retaining no form except a thin sliver of darkness clenched between fur clipped claws. A Caithsee.

"Even so. Take control of your Trait, Hackerby. Before I have Rizelle do it for you."

Nivara couldn't even move. Barely able to move her head in the cloying presence of the dragon, the indistinguishable features of the cat-like assassin caused the Sand Wraith to immediately freeze. The Caithsee had more intimidation in mere seconds than Hack had in ten minutes.

"Like that Caithsee would know how to end a fight. I heard what they did to their own kin. Only a coward-"

The Havalog stood up in fury at the sight of Rizelle, his warhammer aloft as he roared a battlecry but a blur of movement flicked towards the emerald weapon. A sweep of a dragon's tail was enough to knock the momentum flat and sent the warhammer flying into the wall.

It absorbed the blow admirably, sending a swirl of dust flying as the dormant Charger Craft crackled ominously against the faded green gem stuck halfway into the packed, muddy wall. Tuskarr dared to meet the Silverwing dragon's eyes, the Havalog chieftains expression looked like he had been ordered to swallow his own warhammer.

"Tuskarr keep your biases to yourself and for Hell's sake Sybil put out that bloody Sunspell before you take someone's eye out."

The silver haired elf had somehow forged a fist of pure sunlight trapped within her hands but at the dragon's stark warning it reluctantly dimmed.

"Sun Puncher indeed. Rayner might have been the High Nightcaster in his youth but as the Raven Lord he is far more useful to us alive so do wait until after the meeting to murder him, won't you?"

The dragon's stern expression changed to a more jovial, light tone as a chorus of apologies to the Silverwing dragon reminded her of mischievous children owning up to whatever chaos they had wrought. Nivara blinked as a jolt of recognition and fear at the name reminded her of her own dragonic carer back in the smoke filled crypts of her library.

"Sorry, Sentinel Quilla."

Nivara's Trait burrowed away within the recesses of her cloak, Kaldra's presence completely silent as her throat hitched. Sentinel. A name given to only the most powerful of matriarchs, the legends spoke only of one other Sentinel dragon who moved an entire mountain to spite a young Morrosai. All over losing a game.

But there was one key piece of information striking her mind like a bolt of stray lightning. Not only could this dragon heal thanks to Anirri's name drop but even with two Keepers of Trait in the same room, not even that could stop the wrath of a Sentinel. The dragon smiled. Nivara's mask frosted over.

"Now then. Let me get a good look at my niece before you scare her half to death."