Misti and the Dragon Egg

“The birdmen arrived on Ailura when sindurs could barely stand on two feet,” Juniu said. “The scriptures reference winged creatures castaway on the southern shores after a fierce storm. One of these birdmen, their queen, carried a golden egg. The sindurs, primitive yet kind and generous, helped the birdmen. They gave them food and shelter. They became friends. In return, the birdmen helped sindurs build a society.”

Misti walked beside Juniu as he showed her the painted walls of the crypt under the tower. He carried a torch in one hand, a book in the other. One fresco depicted the arrival of the birdmen, winged creatures with the face of birds and the body of men, rising from the sea as the clouds vanished. The next fresco showed men-lynx without clothes bringing fruit baskets to the birdmen.

“The birdmen had powers never seen before. Some of the old texts here mention they could form deep, empathic connections with their subjects. They could touch the sky, move forests, harness the power of the sun. Were they indeed gods? Maybe.” Juniu shrugged. “But I cannot deny that they meant so much for sindur development.”

The next mural showed the tower’s construction guided by winged creatures with a halo as a crest. Misti couldn’t take her eyes off of it. She’d never seen portrayals of the sindur gods, only descriptions in texts. Seeing them on these walls was like unraveling an ancient mystery.

“Do you doubt they were gods?” Misti asked, brushing her paw against a god’s halo. “If you follow our ways, wouldn’t that be heresy?”

Juniu chuckled. “I don’t doubt their power. But I was raised with sithrax beliefs. I am acquainted with the traditional draconic pantheon. I chose to follow the Path for sindur philosophy, not for its gods.”

Juniu stopped walking by the last fresco at the end of the corridor. It was a birdman, or woman, giving a sindur in full armor a large egg. The egg. Misti opened her eyes wide. It was definitely the same scaled golden egg she’d been carrying with her all along. Was it that old? Now that she saw the sindur gods up close, one question suddenly popped into her mind.

Was it even a dragon egg?

“The book speaks of the moment when the birdmen needed to return home,” Juniu continued his story. “They had spent decades, possibly centuries with the sindurs at the dawn of time. They were needed back wherever they came from.

“It pained the Birdqueen to leave. She left Ailura with sorrow in her heart, but she swore a solemn oath. She made her sindur friends the promise that she would one day return. She gave them the egg, the gift that sealed the deal. I think it was more than a promise.”

Misti turned her head to Juniu. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve spent my share of time studying the paintings and scriptures, the thousands of books here, in this tower. I don’t think the egg was a guarantee of the birdmen’s return. I think it was to protect Ailura.”

Misti frowned. But it had failed, hadn’t it? She began to question why she was even here. All the egg had done was create a task and a mystery for the Wistful Sisters to solve. Misti was disappointed. The girl-cat had hoped for a clear solution, the egg hatching, or some sort of holy return of the gods from the skies. She’d not expected to learn about this centuries-old promise that had failed. Why did she have to bring it back here anyway? Was it magically supposed to hatch now, or what?

“You say you heard a voice?” Juniu asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Misti hesitated. He seemed to take her seriously when she’d told him about her dreams by the altar.

“I did,” she murmured.

“What did it say exactly?”

The girl-cat shrugged. “That I had to bring the dragon egg here. That the gods will join the sindurs and free Ailura, something like that. It wasn’t always clear, and it was more of a song rather than a phrase.”

Juniu’s gaze returned to the fresco. ’Look at this. Do you see the sindur in armor who accepts the egg? Look at his weapon.”

Misti squinted. “It’s just a sword.”

“Look closer.”

Misti leaned forward to examine the image. Then she saw it. A subtle detail that was invisible when standing a few inches away from the wall. The sindur, black as night, held a feather in his hand, not a sword. Misti’s eyes rounded in surprise. When she turned back to Juniu, he was smiling proudly.

“It’s not a weapon,” he said. “It’s a key. I believe the feather in this sindur’s hand is the missing piece.”

Misti wanted to say something, to ask who this black sindur on the wall was, but rattling upstairs caught her attention. There were footsteps, heavy ones, coming from above. Juniu hadn’t heard them yet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing her slight distress.

Misti didn’t say a thing because she knew exactly what was coming. Those were definitely sithrax footsteps, and they were coming closer and closer. Now, Juniu could hear them too. His smile faded, and he seized something from under his tunic. It was a jagged dagger.

Misti rushed up the stairs behind Juniu. As soon as they reached the entrance hall, a dozen armed lizardmen surrounded them. Juniu didn’t seem scared, but then again, Misti couldn’t read him so well. They exchanged words with him, violent ones. The ground trembled every time they spoke. Juniu held his arm firmly above Misti to sign that he would protect her no matter the cost.

Virgil appeared into view. He leaned against the wall, his hands in his pocket. He didn’t look in their direction.

“Virgil!” Misti called. She wanted his help. If a fight was about to start, they’d need every help they could get. Juniu could not take all these sithrax on his own.

Virgil simply ignored her. What was wrong with him?

The lizards drew their swords. Juniu spat another few threatening words and then, silence.

“Cover your ears,” he whispered to Misti.

Misti complied. There was no time to ask why.

Juniu closed his eyes and marched to the assailants. His red scales began to glow. A bright halo burst from his head and invaded the air.

The ground began to shake, and Juniu’s voice was ten times louder.

So, that was where the voice from the start had come from. Misti recognized it now, seeing Juniu in action.

It was the cleric’s spell of the gods’ wrath.

His voice sent the sithrax flying. They blasted out through the walls with the shockwave, and the tower began to shake. Juniu then turned around and pointed at the altar with his hand. No, it wasn’t at the altar, it was at the wall behind it. His eyes lit up, and the wall was raised by an invisible force. Misti could see the jungle through the opening.

“Run,” Juniu shouted, catching the girl-cat’s attention once again.

“What about you?” Misti asked, still covering her ears.

There wasn’t much time. The sithrax were already standing up, and they were about to charge. Where was Virgil?

“I will protect this place!” Juniu roared. “You must find the missing piece. It is Ailura’s only hope!”

The tremor grew stronger. Misti had to leave now, or she’d be pinned to the ground. But she couldn’t leave like this, not without a clue as to where to go next. The feather? Should she find that feather from the painting? How could she find it if she didn’t even know where it could be?

Misti ran to Juniu instead of the exit.

“Who was the black sindur?” she asked urgently, her paws grabbing onto his arm.

Juniu had rage and fear in his eyes, Misti could see that clearly. He was putting all his faith in Misti now, and he was going to stay here and fight. Misti was sure he wouldn’t make it out of here alive.