"Niece?"

Of all the things Nivara expected from this Council of Names, an informal introduction to the Sentinel of the Silverwings was not it.

Quilladire Silvertongue was not like the towering dragons of her forefathers. She did not lay waste to entire cities over rerouting rivers or destroy entire mountains over a lost bet. She redefined the name Sentinel as a protector of secrets, a guardian of all beings be it dragon or otherwise. She wasn't just a leader. She redefined the very term.

"Of course, dear. Your mother Odi is my little sister. Not that she ever approved of my decisions to stay with the Silverwings but she did share a thing or two about you in her yearly updates."

"Updates?"

"Later, later. Now, if you don't mind, could you take your mask off? I'd like to get a good look at the girl she raised. Picked off the street like some disease ridden Trollian I heard..."

Before Nivara could even react the Silverwing stalked towards her, transformed her size effortlessly, approached her cloak within a matter of seconds and began tugging on it. The Mist Maiden was so startled she froze in place, her cloak stuck to her side as the dragon attempted to investigate without consent. A snap of jaws immediately emerged from the folds of her cloak, protective and pissed to defend her Oathed when she could not as Talonslash and Silverwing faced off.

"Finally. It's a good thing your new cloak is comfy, Nessy...oh. It's you."

Kaldra's fearsome salamander form slowly relaxed at the sight of another dragon, her eyes narrowing slightly only to recognise the familiar sleek form of a Silverwing dragon. Her scales stood on end, still wary of her opponent with her claws still poised despite the silky smooth surface below her.

"Sorry, Kal. I panicked." Nivara admitted, remaining stock still despite the dragon battle occuring awkwardly on her person.

Kaldra darted off her as the two circled one another curiously on the nearby table, the wood still coated in a thin layer of frost. The Talonslash flicked her tail absentmindedly, making sure to flank her Traited and keep the unfamiliar threat away from Nivara as much as possible. The Silverwing stared at them obliviously, her head darting back and forth between the two yet still attempting to reach for the cloak's material as if nothing was wrong.

"Yeah, I know, Nessie I know. Good Laia to you too, mother."

If the Council of Names had any indication that they were related most of them didn't show it. Except for Anirrii. She dropped her staff in shock, catching it before it hit the ground. Only the once reserved Goldclaw cackled loudly, her Agar covering her mouth while trying not to look completely mortified.

Sashio had no intention of keeping quiet, purposefully craning her neck over Kalaris' hand to watch the drama unfold like it was a play for her entertainment only. The Silverwing however took a wary step back, tilting her head for a moment as if trying to get a better view at the dragon claiming to be her relation.

"Kaldrarion?"

Quilla's blue eyes went wide, not quite believing her own statement as her claws sheathed themselves in shock. She struggled to keep her balance on the varnished table, the emerald Talonslash seeming far less confident with her form. Nivara edged herself a little closer, her anxiety now evaporating into sheer protectiveness for her Oathed.

Kaldra's overconfidence stemmed from her being comfortable in a form she chose but now the dragon's concentration over what she wanted to look like began to slip into what her mother once knew her as. Her form flickered, her shining emerald scales dulling to more of an aquamarine tint before a shiver of nervousness shifted her scales back to her natural colour.

"I swear to Hellgrind you're worse than father-"

The Silverwing barrelled them off the table before Kaldra could finish and caught in the biggest tackle hug Nivara had ever seen. The Mist Maiden couldn't help but stifle a laugh, the Silverwing wasting no time in wriggling against the helpless Talonslash in delight, attempting to clean her scales much like a mother would to her drake after being hatched. Much like Quilla had once done so many decades ago.

"My baby! Oh, I thought you'd been eaten by the Firesteps or trampled by Spiritwalkers."

Kaldra squirmed underneath her mother's affection, despising any kind of bath in fear that it would ruin her already pristine scales. But Nivara couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety for her Oathed, never noticing how unsure she was underneath all that false bravado. It reminded her of the constant rainstorms that she hated, pummelling her scales without relenting and making her squirm and shiver in disgust.

Even so, her Oathed helped her through those storms and yet here she was stuck with a family she rarely discussed or tolerated and she did and said nothing. Nivara wasn't sure how to break the two apart, completely aware of how protective mother's were over their hatchlings. Not to mention, Quilla was a Sentinel and who knew what kind of Nocturian based protocols she would be breaking if she intervened.

"No, I told you decades ago I was with Auntie Odi-"

"Oh I know but you know what my wayward sister is like. One claw in the grave that Scale Shrieker is. I hadn't heard from you in years and now Wayward happened and..."

"And what? You think the great Sentinel could've changed that from so far away?"

Kaldra struggled to keep the venom out of her voice, her mother still insisting on well, mothering her even after so many decades apart. The Fatekeeper coughed quietly, Quilla's response immediately turning to ire at the interruption and growled loudly, turning hostile towards the Tinker Mole for a fraction of a second.

The room froze in fear, the Silverwing's size had doubled in an instant with her teeth bared before the daring crowd.

Her wings blocked all of Kaldra's paltry attempts to remain seen, flanked by her furious, protective nature as if the blind mole would snatch her up without a second thought. But Anirri saw none of this, remaining impassively calm despite the sound of an angry she-dragon directed her way.

"I'm sorry to interrupt this touching reunion but Sentinel Quilla, you are the one who called this meeting to order. So please, don't keep the Stormkeeper waiting."

The Tinker Mole expertly diverted attention away from the incident at Wayward, not wanting to implicate her people further and focused the discussion towards a far more amicable topic.

"My apologies, Fatekeeper. It won't happen again."

Nivara let out the breath she was holding as she watched Kaldra's hot-tempered mother slowly begin to recede back to regular salamander size, registering the Council of Names one by one. The ever so cool and collected Rayner sat with his mask hooked over his eyes, leaving them free to judge as the female half elf in the corner shook her head like a disapproving mother.

The once overconfident Havalog chieftain shrank back into the shadows, the female Caithsee patting him wryly on the shoulder as he jumped back in surprise, almost whacking her with his companions' war hammer in shock. Hack's expression was one of boredom, mildly annoyed like the dragon had placed a bad smell in the room and was forced to deal with it. Until Nivara's eyes met hers.

"I'm sorry, child. For asking you to remove that mask of yours. I did not realise the Stormkeeper and your Oathed were one of the same, 'Rion."

The realisation that crossed the dragon's features was more heartbreaking than her bowing her head in shame, turning towards Nivara solemnly as Kaldra hovered uncomfortably. Still wary she might get squished again by a giant dragon she fought the urge to protect her face and balled her fists instead, focusing on her Oathed and quelling her distress.

"That's alright. I just...don't like people touching my mask, that's all. But you know Odi and are Kaldra's mother so I guess I can make an exception." Nivara replied awkwardly, the group's attention turning towards her despite the Sentinel's enigmatic yet intimidating aura.

Quilla smiled widely, finally relaxing as she stretched and lounged on the sleek, dark wood only slightly damaged by the earlier ruckus. Silently perturbed by the Havalog's chieftains' earlier indignation and purposefully settled right where Tuskar's anxious eyeline lay on the legendary dragon.

"Of course, of course. Please, let me introduce everyone first. I'm sure you already know Anirri and her questionable bodyguard."

Nivara's mouth tweaked into a smile, the Silverwing elder flicking her tail towards the Sand Wraith much like her daughter would when too lazy to use her claws. Quilla's form was about the size of Tuskarr's war hammer, her build far stockier than Kaldra but with a quiet cunning that her Oathed had yet to perfect.

"One more word from you, Silverwing and I'll cave this place in."

The gruff aubergine scaled Sand Wraith raised a claw in a crude yet universal gesture, doubling as a well worn threat regardless of where the Sentinel of the Silverwings chose to rest. The dragon bared her teeth, Hack failing to suppress the urge to jump at the response and completely ignoring the falling dust from the cave-like ceiling.

"Always the charmer, Hackerby. Kalaris I'm sure has made herself quite known along with her Agar, Sashio who like you is a Keeper of Trait."

Nivara had to actively try not to start rolling her eyes, the subtle savagery between the Goldclaw and Silverwing rivalry turning into Quilla being such a troll while Sashio struggled to remain submissive despite all their history. Even Kaldra couldn't help but smile at her sass, the duo strangely comforted by her familiar personality despite how much trouble it seemed to get them into.

"I didn't know a dragon could be a Keeper..."

Nivara's musing seemed to voice the question no one in the room wanted to ask, the group sitting up a little straighter than before. Smiling thinly, the two opposite dragons of dividing sides were in a state of invulnerability through circumstance and companionship.

"She's also a giant drama queen but that's normally reserved for second on the list." Kalaris interjected, elbowing her partner playfully just as she attempted to jump down into hostile territory.

Swatting her with her tail, Sashio took the first step towards bridging the decades-long rift between Goldclaw and Silverwing. Nivara sat back in her chair, happy to watch the exchange take place and tried to piece together what little history the High Priestess had drilled into her.

The Goldclaw dragons originated from Tarragon, initially tasked to help new Lightning Traited control their abilities by redirecting their lightning with their allomancy. But after decades of assisting the Traited they soon grew weary of being placed within the crossfire of their anger. Then came the endless storms.

The lightning that they had promised to protect the Traited from rained down and destroyed their home, floods that swept away entire towns and winds that never ceased swept away countless attempts to rebuild. Despite their attempts and their allomancy the tides changed and their lightning attracting gold were turned against them and soon so we're the Traited.

All the while, the Silverwings of Nocturus were overrun with guarding the mountain borders between Neridia, Tarragon and Nocturus to prevent another war but when the Goldclaws came to them for aid they turned them away. No one knew why the storms were occurring but all they knew was that in a few short months the Goldclaw dragons had used Tarragon's natural disasters to instigate war against the Silverwings and ultimately became exiled.

"At least she's not a necromancer."

Nivara blinked, naturally annoyed by her daydream being interrupted but she couldn't help but think that Tuskarr seemed to have a skill for killing a conversation dead in its tracks. Of all the things to whine about after so much humiliation, anxiety and grating patience the call out of another's Agar whether collusion or not in any other place would have been a death sentence.

"That's quite enough of that, thank you. To think you're the Havalogs new leader, I ask you...well, Kalaris has already made her introduction but she is far more than a necromancer, I assure you."

Quilla's calm and indifferent demeanour towards the outburst lessened the blow as much as she could but there was no changing the initial flinch of the word and the resulting reactions that followed. But despite Kalaris' lackadaisical nature her feet shuffled awkwardly as if trying to find the perfect spot to lean against.

"Of course. I'm an Ash Traited."

Her hat dipped below her eye line, as if no longer fitting due to her awkwardness or Sashio's annoyance towards the badger tasked chieftain but Nivara knew the Goldclaw had no choice but to keep quiet and behave herself. The Mist Maiden almost expected more to be said, accusations to be thrown about but the curious part of her brain honed in on the fact she had never heard of an Ash Traited before. Dual Traited, sure but not ash.

"You've also had dealings with the Ravenback's Captain of the Guard, Calvaros. He has told me much about your time in Wayward as a Mist Maiden. I'm sorry it ended the way it did."

Quilla gave her no time to dissect her thoughts on Kalaris, moving on abruptly despite the tinge of sadness in the dragon's voice at the reminder of what had happened to the once sleepy village. Not wanting to dwell on another dragon's business, the usually shy Calvaros nodded confidently at both the Sentinel and the Raven Lord.

"I hope none of them have been particularly shady dealings, Tempest." Rayner interrupted, his calm demeanour unravelling in front of the new guest.

Nivara couldn't help but smirk at the pompous elf, the reminder of her last assignment as Tempest put the Shadow Battalion leader in plenty of hot water. Calvaros' false confidence evaporated under the Raven Lord's watchful eye, flustered by his sudden attention only to be overshadowed by the other elven in the room.

She had moved closer to the Ironthorn table without crossing the Mist Maiden's line of vision, rapping her knuckles on the wood to gather everyone's attention. Barely recalling her name, Nivara watched as the calm elven Sylvia..Sybil animatedly signed at the Raven Lord for all she was worth, a whirlwind of spiteful jabs and subdued anger.

"Nightspell elves do like their shade, Rayner. It's we Sunspell elves who find the night difficult to deal with."

Nivara's brain spun with the complicated mix of sign language, the elf's own unique style including sprinkles of Nocturian threats and long, overextended Tarragon posturing. But thankfully she had learnt from the last time, the majority of the sentence structure mostly followed Neridian sign. Praising her caregiver once again despite her long lessons, Odi certainly knew how to make sure she could follow along no matter the situation.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her Oathed attempting to help her fill in the gaps with Tailspeak, a dragonic way of silent communication almost like semaphore but signals with the slight flicks of her green tail. Her eyes ached with all the messy information flooding her brain but just as she had taught herself to deal with long, boring scriptures she took a deep breath and took what few seconds she had to analyse and categorise everything.

The Sunspell elf was hard for her to decipher, Nivara's biases towards the Taishin being clamped down in favour of focusing on Sybil alone and in turn, how she now communicated. She wasn't deaf, her flinching towards loud noises confirmed it but from the subtle but longer gestures almost mimicking sword forms. Military background. But not quite as rigid as the training in Tarragon, almost self taught out of necessity much like her sign language.

Nocturian embellishes. Far slyer translations than a standard book of Neridian sign language but the way her fingers interlocked and spread apart into long, powerful, blunt arms that never faltered in speech or meaning. It was this dynamic, Nocturian concoction of all her travels that she latched onto and saw Sybil as the nervous yet brazen Sunspell that truly impressed her.

"Come now, my Agar. Be nice."

Quilla's teasing helped answer a question Nivara didn't even need to ask, opening her eyes at the sight of Sybil glaring at the Raven Lord but the Silverwing dragon watched on until the Sunspell elf turned away from the aggravating argument she no doubt wanted to have.

If Nivara had to guess, she was once part of the Neridian Forecaster mages and knew Rayner before he was the presiding Raven Lord. During the war, she had to have some point taken refuge in Nocturus after being captured in Tarragon until finding herself deep underground away from sunlight and far from her home.

"I thought you liked my sunny disposition, Quilladire?"

In an attempt to rebuild some bridges both dragons of both partners tried to nudge the two towards an amicable greeting, Sybil edging around to where Nivara sat partially away from the group and offered a reluctant handshake. The Mist Maiden accepted it, the controlled heat laced within her palms being reined in as sun met storm but not enough to cause any lasting damage.

"Just as much as your stormy personality, Nivara." Kaldra interjected, trying to add some humour in an already deflating meeting.

The two broke away, keeping level with one another despite the face off and in an attempt to keep face Nivara signed the Neridian greeting for 'hello' her palm open as she moved each finger in turn for a more casual greeting. The elf took a few seconds to stare at her, leaving her sweating just in case she had messed up.

Sybil smiled, lowering her hood just to see her expression of subdued surprise and looked towards her Agar who nodded in confirmation before the elf signed back. Nivara could catch the much smaller inflections and flourishes now she knew what to look for.

It was almost like a habit from her days travelling with different people and the snark and sarcasm she liked to include in so many of her debates with her Oathed. It was comforting and mesmerising all at once to see someone so wounded still trying to be herself.

"Sybil Nightspun. Ex Sunstress and recently contracted Agar to the Sentinel of the Silverwings. I'm an old friend of the Raven Lord now he's scuttled off to avoid a war he helped cause."

Sybil's expression hardened, gesturing in turn to her mangled ears, her shredded neck which was barely enough to explain the years of pain and anguish but her signing continued to stumble along as if barely able to contain her fury. Her arms were moving in wide, angry arcs before ending with an accusatory jab towards the Raven Lord who only replied with a group of short phrases. Hammerlocke.

"You're right. I did."

Sybil's Casting flickered dangerously close to the edge of her cloak, ready to burn and consume anything it happened to touch. Nivara tried to formulate the words to stop the silence from consuming her but the phrases seemed to blur into one. Rayner however used a methodical way of signing as if purposefully slowing down his movements all to aggravate Sybil sooner.

"Oh for Hell's sake, you're all useless. Absolutely useless. The least you could do is try to act like you don't hate each other?" Quilla complained, once again having to break up the disagreement for what felt like the fifth time.

Nivara couldn't help but pity the dragon, floundering in her announcer role with these bunch of misfits and smiled goodnaturedly at her kind of mother in law. At least she didn't have to try and take over her role as mediator of this bickering Council of Names. Sybil's stony disposition was impervious to Rayner's mask but his blasé use of Hammerlocke, a Tinker Mole choice of communication the Sunspell elf no doubt betrayed by her kins disrespectfulness.

"I don't think that is entirely wise, Sentinel. Considering the last time we held such a council as this one."

The flick of an agitated set of cat like ears came into view nearest the closed off tunnels, the ancient Charger Craft contained within its walls lengthening and separating out into dusty, soil strewn space to give everyone a little more personal space stuck within the Labyrinth.

Nivara clenched the edge of the chair to stop herself from jumping out of her skin, the black furred Caithsee assassin leaning right against the same wall Hack was meant to be guarding. He glanced backwards, completely undeterred by the set of shadows clinging to the concealed door frame.

Two visitors, one hidden one not, by a potential illusionist or even a Dimmer Craft or dare she say it, a Shadow Traited. Nivara shivered despite the warm glow of Sunspell lighting the room, Sybil now restoring to sulking in the corner and observing the strange Caithsee coolly, as if she knew her and wasn't amused. Nivara was more concerned about how she had managed to completely forget she was there.

"Alright, alright. I get it. Sheesh, I know you're a Caithsee Rizelle but must you be so blunt? How the other Perishers put up with you I'll never know."

The Silverwing dragon threw her head up in exasperation, almost suppressing a roar which rattled the table she was lying down on. The cat-like smile reminded Nivara of her line of work as Tempest, seeing anything and everything as a viable target rather than an actual living being.

After all, she knew the signs of the same trade: the necessity of a weapon at hand, the indifferent response to anything controversial, the tempered emotions and finally, the need to remain near an exit, be it hidden or not. Nivara's eyes adjusted to the Caithsee's features: the silver tipped fur, the reversed eye colours of gold pupils and black irises and the unravelling shadows she commanded to protect her companion no longer. A sea green Singfall siren.

"It is not only Rizelle's clan that struggles to put up with her or was I misinformed about what happened to the last High Priestess of the Mist Maidens?"

Nivara grit her teeth, the loud hiss that died in her throat suddenly amplified by someone other than her as Rizelle echoed her sentiments the only way Caithsee's knew how. The Caithsee's superior hiss turned into a yowl of indignation, challenging her alleged companion despite clearly arriving together.

It didn't take much to notice the splatters of mud from Neridian mud flats, the overly tired expression they were trying to hide along with the hidden satchel strapped behind their hip half empty of rations. Water, seaweed, poultices of herbs and all manner of weapons threatened to spill wildly in all directions until a clawed hand kept it still.

"Hold your tongue, Reina before I remove it."

The Caithsee's fur stood upright, ready to accuse her but the name of the siren sent her blood pressure boiling until the Mist Maiden had stood up without even noticing. The suave scaled siren stood behind the assassin as if waiting in line for the tavern to open, a tad younger than the Caithsee but not by much. But what infuriated Nivara the most was how little she seemed to care.

"You. I went to you once. To ask for help with my Storm Trait. You turned me away."

Reina scoffed, already confirming she knew exactly who Nivara was despite her disinterested expression. At least Sybil had the decency to lower her hood and see she was actively trying. Reina didn't know the meaning of the word, try.

"You didn't want help. You wanted a way out of your problems instead of facing them like a true Stormkeeper should."

What would a backwater, two bit, blank slate siren know about her struggles with her Trait? They had only met once but it was an experience she'd never forget or want to repeat.

"Could you blame me? I was a kid and you did nothing! I hated my Trait, I wanted to get rid of it and you...you sold me out to the Taishin."

Kaldra growled softly, the Singfall siren folding her arms and refusing to confirm or deny her involvement. Her fins were flared outwards in annoyance, the only sign of any kind of emotion towards the conversation only for small plumes of steam to rise out of the waterskin.

Nivara's eyes narrowed in frustration, the water skins contents dripping out of the satchel slowly only for the beads of water droplets to freeze on impact as the Caithsee jumped back in surprise. The mud on her boots had gathered a thin layer of frost, cold to the touch with her claws peeking out a little. If anyone had the right to be angry it was her.

"That is not my concern. The Laia decides the order of things, not my kin. We of the Wavecaller clan do not allow those who think themselves above that to dwell in our borders."

The Singfall siren was unamused by the trail of frost as she scuffed it away with her foot. Kaldra hissed much like Rizelle had earlier, tired of keeping quiet as she jumped off the table with ease and grew way past Nivara's knees and to the height of the accusing siren's waist.

"Tell that to the Sea Vixens who locked us up in the Pressurehold and threatened to leave us there."

Reina huffed much like a teenager would be disciplined by their parents, clearly bothered by the Talonslash's display of power and her daring to associate her with such a stereotypical group. The Sea Vixens were an independent group of sirens who radically went against the Forecaster war and targeted the Folka to use them in the battle.

After failing to capture the nymph Elfidari the Singfall sirens, the leftover forces of the Collective and the new Forecaster regime trapped them in a prison under the Cerucian Sea beneath the Emerald Isles known as the Pressurehold.

Despite their attempts to squash out the insurrection the Sea Vixens name became infamous and eventually, were freed decades later to man the islands that were once their prison. Only in the promise that they would help protect the Cerucian Seas alone and never interfere with Neridian politics again.

"I don't associate myself with those pirates. Just like I don't associate with confused drakes who think they can change what they are."

Kaldra yelped like a wounded dog, stunned momentarily by her own response as her form began to flicker ominously. She looked down for the briefest of moments, her scales paling from green to blue to the faintest hue of silver.

Kaldra's eyes went wide at the sight of curling horns far bigger than her usual one's, backing away before Nivara could reach her and retreated back into the mist and the security of the Everchange cloak.

"How dare you disrespect my Oathed like that!"

Nivara's delayed reaction burst out in a torrent of anger, accompanied by a mother's protective growl that broke any kind of pretence that anyone would remain civil. Her stomach churned at the thought of her Oathed being blatantly called out and misgendered, so humiliated and self conscious she had to flee from sight just for wanting to be herself and be comfortable with that.

"You cannot rid yourself of Retribution so easily, Stormkeeper. Neither can he."

The Mist Maiden could feel her dragon's heart beating beside hers, terrified but concealed as much as she could. Ever so gently, she untied her cloak and set it on the chair she was sitting on despite the dragon nestled nervously beneath it. She took a deep breath, her seething Trait being put aside for now in fear for her partner's well being and stood up to face the siren as calmly as she could.

"You're right, I can't."

Nivara thought of how alone she felt without her cloak around her shoulders, the regret on Kaldra's face when her chosen form crumbled and the whole room witnessed it. She could never understand the weight of what her Oathed had to deal with but regardless of whether a dragon had large horns or small, long tails or short, big wings or none at all she loved Kaldra. Anyone who threatened that faced the wrath of the Tempest.

"But I can still rid this place of you."

The storm that gathered within her fingertips split through the walls like thunder, the crack of Charger Craft mimicking the path of lightning the moment Reina attempted to deadname her Oathed a third time. The Caithsee jumped at the whip crack of sound, the threat clear only to the Singfall siren. She knew what happened when you got too close to a storm.

"Nessie, don't. Please. Let me handle this."

Nivara looked back at her partner, snout barely free of her cloak but her scales were a conflicting mishmash of blue, green, silver, black and red. Her features were her usual self but she still sounded far more nervous than Nivara had heard her before. But much like Rayner had pissed her off before, she was still angry and so was her Trait.

"She just called you-"

"I know. But it's like you Traited say. It's down to our own self mentality. I am Kaldra. You have always made me feel that way. With you I never feel less than that. Never."

Kaldra's scales lightened a little, her natural emerald hues overtaking the watercolour wash of indecisiveness as her confidence slowly began to rise. Nivara could see the hints of curved horns getting smaller, her talons becoming less sharp as her teeth and build followed suit. It might've not seemed like a lot to someone like Reina who only broke people down with her words but to Nivara it was everything.

"Despite my dead name, my scales and my father's twisted beliefs you've helped me become who I am. Hells, you managed to change my mother's mind a little and she's a Sentinel."

Nivara sniffed, eyes blurry as she rubbed at her mask and thought about how miserable her Oathed was being surrounded by so many dragons who tried to force her into something she didn't want. Kaldra might not have been born a Talonslash but with the help and support of her Aunt Odi she learned to sharpen her scales the way she wanted. Any dragon could shapeshift but not always how they pleased and a Silverwing learning any skills outside of their clan was taboo.

"Oh, Kallie. I'm sorry. I didn't realise how much your name hurt you so much."

Quilla lowered her head in shame, her expression far more subdued than Nivara expected considering her earlier bouts of anger. But she seemed far more pensive or perhaps, struggled to grasp exactly why she was angry at the siren. Either way, Nivara could see a glimmer of hope with at least trying to repair their relationship a little but the most important thing was that it was not her decision or her mother's. It was Kaldra.

"I know, you were always too busy and I didn't want to...I never knew how to tell you without something else getting in the way." Kaldra attempted to explain, stumbling over her words a little as if trying not to recall the person she used to be.

Her embarrassment didn't waver her shapeshifting abilities this time, Nivara trying to piece together what little she knew about her relationship with her mother. She had met Kaldra a few months after Odi, arriving battered and bruised on Grimmordials doorstep with the story of being her unknown relation before collapsing from exhaustion.

It had taken a long time for her to open up, the Silvertongue clan being the only thing on her mind for months after travelling while trying to find a form that made her more comfortable. It was Odi's research and Fidget's support that Kaldra chose to become Nivara's Oathed and remain as a Talonslash despite her family's opinions. It had taken years to get Kaldra to break out of her shell but not once had she talked about her mother by name.

"It's not just about your name, is it? I thought...I thought I understood after everything our family went through to fight to love who we chose to be no matter what dragon we are. But how can I say that when our family, my...daughter was cast out because we couldn't let her choose what she wanted for...herself?"

Quilla's voice began to crumble, her size changing to impossibly small dimensions no bigger than Nivara's hand as the mighty Sentinel of the Silverwings began to sob.

"I'm...I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed to be the Sentinel of the Silverwings, I'm ashamed to be a Silvertongue. I'm ashamed to be called a mother if I can't even notice that you were miserable. That I was miserable without you."

Kaldra edged her way onto the table, the Everchange cloak sliding off the chair as Nivara glared daggers at the siren and took back her seat before picking up her cloak and folding it onto her lap. She could see the conflicted expression on her dragon's face, her snout crumpled a little as she tried to approach awkwardly without giving away that she had no idea how to comfort someone who was crying.

"You know now so that's what's important, I guess."

Nivara internally cringed, knowing full well how hard it was for Kaldra to express her feelings without seeming insensitive or vain but still she tried to close the gap warily despite Quilla being much smaller than her. Sashio remained in her own little corner, Kaldra looking towards the Goldclaw for assistance despite her exile.

Kaldra tried to bridge the gap, not sure of where to place herself between the two but the once reluctant Goldclaw dragon now nudged the young Talonslash forward. The supportive gesture meant far more than Sashio probably realised and Nivara noticed it was the first time that Sashio had willingly helped without a snarky remark or clear benefit to her.

"I'm sorry I hid from you for so long. I didn't mean it. I just wanted to be myself. Away from everyone in Nocturus. I don't think I'd be here today without meeting people like Auntie Odi and Nessie."

Nivara watched with bated breath, her Trait settling along with her mood as her Oathed tried to quietly rest her chin against her mother just like she used to do to her. The sobs lessened a little the Silverwing and the Talonslash reunited as they sat side by side until both retained their size, shape and empathy until Quilla gently rested against her daughter for the first time in decades.

"I know...I know it's a lot to have me here for so long apart. I'm not going to ask you to forgive me. That's your choice. But...if you're comfortable with it I'd like to start calling you my daughter, Kaldra."

Nivara's heart swelled, struggling to find any hint of malice in her voice in an attempt to try and be more suspicious but the look of relief on Kaldra's face resigned her to letting her decide whether she wanted to let Quilla in. The cute exchange between mother and daughter was immediately broken by the harsh, coarse laughter of a Singfall siren with no remorse in a single one of her fins.

"What a load of-"

Reina was floored by Nivara's punch, her scaly snake-like sneer completely cutting off any attempts to explain her own shit and rein in her anger. Both women were being supported from behind, the Mist Maiden being held back despite her Trait burning through the wrappings on her arms. Reina was struggling to stay on her feet, Rizelle dragging a chair as she tried to make sure she didn't go unconscious or worse, start another fight.

"Please. Don't give her the right to control your reactions, Nivara. Let the storm fade." Quilla tried to alleviate the situation but could see the satisfied look on her daughter's face and tried to look concerned and remorseful.

Nivara's breaths were rapid and furious, eyes clenched as she leant forwards with her fists clenched in concentration and euphoria in a strained smile of frustration with a hint of victory. Hack was still right behind her holding her back from turning it into a full brawl while Rizelle attempted to stop a bloody nose.

"Although it would be incredible to watch you destroy her." Sashio added, casually watching Reina be forced into staying in her chair while clutching her nose.

The Sand Wraith followed her every step even as she backed away, the storm being locked away as the Sentinel tried to nod encouragingly and try not to punch every person she met. In an attempt to calm herself, Nivara clutched at her old cloak bindings around her wrists and rewound them angrily.

Quilla's initial hesitance to call Kaldra her daughter seemed to be a little easier as they tried to distract the rest of the wary group who were all clutching their weapons with stories and anecdotes they knew well. With Hack's back facing them Nivara clung to the scraps of material of her Tempest cloak, running her fingers through the half sewn names of the dead.

"Use your words, Keeper. The council will remove you if you don't try to calm down. Trust me, the Fatekeeper didn't vouch for you to go home without answers." Hack muttered under his breath, his Earth Trait tempering her storm just enough to think.

She shook her head of thoughts long past, the Mist Maiden she was once turned Tempest now chosen Stormkeeper stared long and hard at the Raven Lord who had not reacted through the whole exchange. Neither for or against, his fingers threaded together as if watching and waiting to decide on what she had to do. Mask and all. The rest all turned to him, the group's attention split between Nivara, Reina and the Raven Lord himself as the Sand Wraith returned to his position nearest Anirri.

Nivara narrowed her eyes at the elf, knowing full well what kind of orator he was looking for. She had once prided herself on her ability to talk her way out of any situation but the last time she had tried to rally the people they had buried her alive in the Silt Pillars and she knew how that ended. Whatever persuasive tactics the Raven Lord wanted her to conjure from thin air, to either avoid a fight or cause one she didn't know. But unless Nivara wanted answers she had to play nice.

"Kaldra has chosen to shapeshift to be who she is and it is incredibly easy for... people to undermine that. She shouldn't have to hide or feel shameful or waste a single thought about how she needed to look for anyone else. Even though I wear a mask to hide, I do what I can to support that even if I cannot summon the courage to do so myself. But I won't stay quiet anymore. I can't."

Nivara clamped down her emotion, Wayward drifting from her mind as she focused on one thing and one thing only. Her Oathed. She caught Rayner's eyes, a flicker of intrigue hidden in his gaze and the reminder of how casually he had used her true name. Pretending to look apologetic she lowered her head much like Quilla had done and thought of how hard Kaldra fought to keep her mindset from straying to what others wanted.

The trust she held in her small frame. The demeaning looks that made her revert without so much as an empathic word. The dragon's who forced her out because she wasn't the right type or gender. That refused to even acknowledge her as a dragon. Even the rare apologies twisted at her gut, false and cloying while the anxiety stuck long after the trust that was placed in their words. Words that cut like a Talonslash and constantly pushed you to what they wanted even when it forced you to change who you are and how you once thought. Kaldra had fought through that and more.

But here Nivara was, listening to what others thought and adapting accordingly just as she once hated. She lifted her chin a little, seeing no reason to continue playing to the Raven Lord's manipulation and brushed her hair away from her ears to unhook the arkalite latches on her mask. Her identity was already damned, her Oathed nitpicked, her alias picked apart for another instead of the name she wanted. Covering up her identity didn't matter anymore. The Tempest didn't matter anymore.

Her hands shook as the mask fell away from her eyes, the bindings on her wrists burning away as the storm rippled through her skin and finally, the names of the Wayward villagers faded into ash. Nivara took in the reactions of the Council of Names, her greenish, oozing burn blurring her vision enough to allow her to choke out the last few words. Only Kaldra's face was clear, her sharp features looking on proudly as her Oathed gave her the courage to face the answers she hoped would heal more than the wound the Timekeeper left them.

"My Oathed is brave, far braver than me for that."