The Drake of Craumont

"Gods, I haven't seen that face in years, dear."

Lizzie's voice hits right as the doors of the Manor swing closed.

I blink. Once, twice, three times. Flecks of water prick at my scales and skin, gathered there from a drizzle I'd just escaped. Gods, I'd sunk deep into my own thoughts, hadn't—

She elbows me hard enough that a base human might break a rib.

I give her a sharp look, but she just bats her eyelashes at me, smiling placidly. She pokes me again as I watch, this time with a single finger to the shoulder.

"And you're still there," Lizzie tuts. "Something heavy is on your mind, but heavy enough for me to sneak up on you? Focus, dear."

"There's nothing wrong with taking your time, especially with heavy topics!" Verity chirps. A hand drapes itself on my shoulder, connecting one talon at a time before squeezing. "And if she missed them, I can just use the same flirty lines again on her later. Sounds like a win-win."

"Do not overtax yourself," Ruby intones, stepping past me.

"Ah, are you alright, Elizabeth?" Lena interjects, stifling a giggle. "You're rubbing your arm, and… ah."

"Aside from the obvious locations, I may as well be elbowing a brick wall." Lizzie huffs, jabbing me in the chest and dancing away before I can jab her back. "I can't say I recommend it."

I chuckle, sparing the world a smile and drawing the fog off my senses. First comes the magic of the Manor, draped eagerly over my shoulders. It whispers another greeting through a rustle of curtains, and with it I hear the five heartbeats of the people around me. And quite a bit of banter, of course.

"The lab is hardly my favorite thing to think about," I say drily, stepping further into the Manor. Benny's there with a rack of towels, and I take one with a quiet thanks, Benny. They smile back, but I know them well enough to see the alarm engraved in their wrinkles.

"The lab, madam?" Benny repeats. "Are you quite certain?"

I nod curtly, and their throat bobs.

Stand proud, the Manor adds, floorboards creaking. Welcome home.

"I believe Madam Ivy is simply preparing herself, Madam Elizabeth," Benny says, turning to offer towels to Verity, Lena, and Ruby. "She has not allowed anyone into the lab since it was sealed some six years ago… and, forgive my delay. Welcome to the Crawford Estate, madams."

"Six and a few months," I correct absently. My tail's damp main mass rests on the carpet, with the tip curled around to tap on the floorboards. "It happened at the start of summer."

Lena breathes in sharply. "Oh. Oh."

"Lena?" Verity asks, and I hear a rustle of cloth.

"Ah, the legal disputes with the Church started six years ago, following, um…" Lena whispers, not quiet enough for me to ignore. "The disappearance of Ivy's parents."

I wince. Lizzie clicks her tongue.

"Ah," Verity says softly. More rustling cloth, and Verity speaks at full volume when she resumes. "I'm not going to ask you to stay behind, Ivy. Do you want to have dinner first? Take a bath?"

Thump. Scrrch.

"No," I say flatly. My tail tip slaps the floorboards, scraping enough that the Manor bleeds irritation through a shifting breeze.

Sorry, I whisper back, offering my magic back to it. The Manor takes it gladly.

I don't want to go back in there. Obviously.

But the idea of them going in without me? To pry my chest open, rib by rib, until my heart and truth is laid bare?

No, something scaled hisses. I'm stronger now, and I know the place better than anyone else. Its ceiling is engraved into a shadowed part of my memory, every crack, beam, and grain. I can still feel the splinters, burrowing under my nails, no, my claws. The howl of the World as my parents carved it…

I take a long, shuddering breath. Is there a point to letting those memories get at me? I'd led myself down that path, and six years isn't enough distance from the second-worst day of my life, apparently.

So I start walking, tail tapping the floor in my wake, and make sure my friends follow me. The Manor shudders, quietly preparing itself for what is to come.

"Lena's on the right path," I start, flexing my claws. "An experiment went wrong that night. I was there for it."

A pause.

Nobody speaks.

I'd rather they did. It'd be better than this cacophony of footsteps and heartbeats.

We go down the hallway, down another, into the depths of the Manor, stopping halfway and pulling a curtain back to reveal a hallway that shouldn't be. And there, at the end of the hall, is… nothing. Simply a bare wall waiting for a memory.

"But Dongbaek's using one of those damned knives," I say finally. "And the lab is where my parents made them."

I raise a clawed hand— nothing like the ones I'd had as Amelia— and pull as much magic as I can manage through a cracked soul. The Manor reaches out, twining itself between my fingers as my other hand finds its way to Benny's shoulder. Verity's at my side, and I can still feel everyone hovering at my sides. Even Lizzie and Ruby.

The Manor unfolds. Walls groan, bookshelves lurch, and on that bare wall a door remembers where it is supposed to be. The wood is pale, the brass handle is scuffed, and I'm quietly glad the blood washed off.

"Goddess. Those are Imperial enchantments, aren't they," Verity muses, claws drumming against my shoulder.

"I've read about buildings that can…" Lena murmurs. "Um. I-I wish things weren't so, so complicated right now. I have so many questions… sorry, it's not the time for that, is it."

"Don't apologize," I grunt, lowering my hand.

…Gods, I need a bath. I need to sit in hot water, scrub my scales clean, and have something go right today. My instincts rumble, uncoiling inside of me at the mere thought of a bath.

For now, though? I give Benny's shoulder the most affectionate squeeze I can manage, clear my throat, and start talking. "It is the time for that, Lena. Let's… get inside properly, though."

"Oh!" Lena says, and I can hear her shuffling closer. "I'd, ah. My ears are still wet somehow, I'll. Dry those off first."

"Agreed. I would like to hear about the Manor as well," Ruby says, finally speaking up. She strides by me, looking vaguely in my direction before settling in a chair that seems large enough to swallow her.

"It's not often I hear you talking history, dear," Lizzie drawls, swanning her way to the new door. She's dressed down today, actually; a white blouse and a long black skirt that seem far more practical than her dozens of revealing dresses.

I shrug, slipping free of the group and walking toward the pale door. "Not my favorite subject."

The chatter offers me enough time to gather myself, as the girls chat with each other, and with Benny. A pulse of magic and a murmured request has a tea set drifting its way toward us. It leaves the Manor's stretched senses as Benny grabs the tray, and my lips twitch. A handful of steps is all it takes to get me close to the door, close to then.

"Whenever you're ready," Verity says softly, and I step away before she can touch me once more. I'll want that, soon, a tight hug and the warmth of others. Hugs from all of them, really.

I wave my hand, scattering intent through droplets of magic. The pale door groans, recalling that it must lead somewhere, and the battered brass doorknob begins to twist.

"Verity's right," I start, quietly at first. My tail holds steady above the carpet, curled to block the way to the door. "The Manor was built during Imperial times. Pre-Collapse by a century, if the records in the library are right. Not sure of the full theory behind these places, but they're…"

I pause. The theory isn't easy, and it takes me a moment to catch up to my words. "They're conceptual. Not like Delves, but the rules aren't far off. They change how any Mageblood can, and it just takes magic to do the changing."

The doorknob clicks. I feel the Manor groan, envisioning the room that once lay beyond. Bitterness lingers on my tongue, swirled with the iron of old blood. "Rooms are where they need to be. I can ask the Manor to… remember."

I gesture to the door, and it swings open on soundless hinges. Darkness yawns beyond, a stairway of scuffed stone leading into pitch-dark shadow. "After that night? Thought this room would never need to be again. I asked the Manor to forget it, sink it down where nobody could reach."

Give us light, I ask the Manor, offering yet more magic to it. My soul shifts like cracked shale, pain shivers its way up my spine, but nothing breaks— I don’t break.

A lantern flickers to life, gripped by an iron sconce. Fire crystal glimmers the glass enclosure, casting light across the steps, across the drying blood that glistens on each stair. It seems the Manor's remembered everything, even things that I’d banished from my own memory… hm.

Fascination cleaves through my thoughts, heavy and sharp.

"I planned to ask why more estates of the time didn't employ this, dear, but…" Lizzie says, her voice oddly rough, "Elluvial. Am I really praying that is your blood from that night, rather than something new?"

I peer down the stairs, following the glittering lights as they wink into the dark. Another lamp flares, revealing the landing at the floor below; the scraps of shorn parchment, blood oozing into the gaps of the stone.

My hand curls around the wooden frame, squeezing until the wood splinters beneath my claws. "It's mine."

Furred ears slip into the corners of my vision, and clawed fingers press into my own. Between my own, now, delicately and hesitantly twining together until soft flesh rubs against my scaled palms.

"Shall I prepare the tea for your return, madam? Or would you prefer I join you for support?" Benny calls, and they don't hide the hitch in their breath. "It is not… pleasant, down there."

I find my lips twitching, grounded as I am by Lena's hand and the people around me. Lizzie, watching me with something resembling care. Verity, gold eyes soft and teeth flashed in a bright smile. Ruby, being… herself, as only she can be, taking notes and standing awkwardly in the middle of the hall.

Lena squeezes my hand.

I take a breath, square my shoulders, and take the first step down the stairs. "Tea sounds nice. Maybe some pastries, too."

And then, as one step becomes many, boots thudding against worn stone, "Thank you, Benny."

Thank you, Manor, I whisper, carrying it through a dreg of magic. The stone walls around me hum, ever so slightly, as the Manor's air drapes itself on my shoulders.

"Gods," I grumble, easing the tension from my back, "This is going to be a mess."

Verity snorts. "And if it's not, we can make it the fun kind of mess!"

Gods. Any other time and I'd be swallowing a laugh. What humor I find escapes through my tail, and I gesture down the stairs with my one free hand. "Once this nonsense is done with, sure. For now, let's get going."

We walk, not into horror, not into terror, but into blood-stained mundanity. Into a library, brightly lit, six years or mere hours ago. My flesh was weak and my freshly-ruined soul bound by wavering will. My claws rest on an overturned table, pressed into a bloody handprint I wish I didn't remember making.

Perhaps there's a divine irony to it, that I'm here again with even deeper fissures in my being. Or, perhaps, it's some form of long-awaited justice for the child that died that night.

Nevertheless. Mundanity.

I scan the room, taking in those familiar nooks for scrolls and desks for writing. Memories of my parents ghost over my sight; Ada and Markus, hunched over and bickering lovingly as they always did. There’s a note-covered sketch of a body on the easel next to me, and it’s crumpled in my hand before I have time to properly think.

Doors exit in three directions, leading into other workspaces my parents built… and my own trail of blood emerges from the half-opened door to the left, passing by the overturned table, stomping over reams of paperwork, and finally making its way behind me and up the stairs.

Knocking it over had felt good. Not a whisper of regret, there. The shattered glass and ruined paperwork might be annoying now, but the rage of that night demanded an outlet.

"It's five rooms," I say, forcing through a suddenly-tight throat. As cold as I might feel, Lena's hand stays warm. "Long rooms to the left and right, one room in front of us, and…"

I gesture forward, beyond the working places of the lab. "One wide room at the back. That's where it happened."

"We'll leave it for last, then," Verity says smoothly, bumping her shoulder against mine as she passes. "And let's skip over the blood, everyone, and get to investigating."

She pauses, spinning on her heel to face me, one eyebrow raised. "Speaking of, ladies, what are we looking for? I've got the sight," she taps the side of her head, eyes flashing, "but nowhere specific to point it. Ruby, Ivy, any suggestions?"

My tail lashes across the ground, clacking against stone as I think. Ruby, however, is faster on the draw. "We are in a lab. Connections to the knife or to Delve-making magic should be investigated. Given the vanishing of suspects, we are additionally looking for any information that might relate to…"

And so it goes, with Ruby rattling off hypothetical links as the girls spread out across the room. Ruby pours through piles of parchment on the desks, shuffling them out into groups I can't properly pick apart. Lizzie's pulled a few shoddily-bound journals from shelves, leafing through them with a deeply furrowed brow. Verity stands and stares at the sketch of the skeleton and the dozens of notes surrounding it, one hip cocked.

Lena stays next to me, even as my tail clatters against the floor and curls its way around her boots. "By the Restoration," she says, ears pressed flat against her head, "Ivy, are you sure you're… n-no, you'd say something. Um. Sorry, it's just a lot of blood."

"I would say something," I agree, turning my focus to her. One long ear lifts just enough to flick in my direction, and the blush on her face is far from subtle. Setting that aside, though, I grimace as I add, "The blood's going to get worse as we go deeper. Will you be alright?"

A pause, underscored by shuffling papers, my clicking tail, and a soft hum from Verity.

Lena takes a long breath, and another, her ears gradually lifting free of her hair. Her hand slips free of my own, and she nods. "Y-yes. I'll be fine. Ah, maybe there's…"

She steps over my tail, and I'm left alone in a quiet room full of friends. It leaves me free to command the doors open, to dodge what few words of comfort rise above the strange, choking silence of my parents' grave.

Once the room is sufficiently worked over, I lead us into the right hallway. Away from the blood trail of the left hall, away from the central room. A wave of a hand turns a hall of softly glowing somethings into a brightly-lit lab. Lumps of material sit on a broad table, stones and metals and crystals—

"A crystal of Moon magic! Quite a pain to source, you know," Lizzie remarks, striding right over and plucking a silvery orb from the table. Her eyes flash, and the crystal lifts away from her hand. "High quality as well. Do you mind if I take this?"

"Not really," I shrug, turning toward the bookcases. I catch a flicker of a frown on her face, but discard the observation.

"There's wax as well! Do you think that could be…" Lena says from somewhere behind me, and suddenly there's a chorus of murmurs.

I focus on pulling books from the shelf, flipping through them. Yes, there's plenty on Delves here, but it's all theory I recognize. Maybe in time I'd be able to figure out opening a Delve from this side, and with some more work, learn how to disrupt whatever ritual Dongbaek had run to when I chased him.

But not tonight. Not in the next few days, while we're focusing on catching Dongbaek— he has to know, now that we've failed to catch two of the stalkers. While the chatter continues, I eye the way to our next room, the most central room in the lab. The door is present, and a gentle push of magic ensures that the Manor has kept it locked.

"…a notebook over here. They were… testing what materials could hold Delve magic?"

My claws twitch at Verity's words, and the book's cover is rendered into useless chunks. "Best they found was their black glass," I grit out, setting the book down carefully. "That's why they made the knives out of it."

"Fascinating! It has completely different static properties from the traditional archetypes. And it looks like wax—"

Ruby clears her throat and dives right into speaking. "Possible connection to Bitgarm Dongbaek's wax carvings. This is progress."

"For Delve magic though?" I can imagine Lena's frown as she replies to Ruby. "Ah, I don't know these formulae, but a spell structure stored at this efficiency would decay after only a few days."

"But then it's similar to any other enchantment, and it doesn't take a Mage to use, right?" Verity counters. "I… hm. Yeah, it's related somehow, but where would they get all the Delve magic? And why?"

Silence.

Oh Gods. I'm the expert here, aren't I?

"Not a damned clue," I say, punctuating my words with a slap of my tail against the stone floor. Each word dragged from my lips is a struggle, and here I am trying to speak dozens. "Maybe they're Delving when we aren't looking. Unless you want to carry around fifteen or so grand-stones of weight, though, you're not storing a whole Heart in wax."

My throat tightens, but I hold up a claw to stall questions and turn around. "Needs to be inside a structure, too. Runes, usually, so Dongbaek might be carving runes of some sort into the surface. Again, not a damned clue why."

Ruby turns, parchment in hand, and starts writing. "It is more than we had before."

Lena takes the journal from Verity's hands, flipping through it with glimmering eyes. Her ears flick in my direction.

Lizzie, Moon crystal in hand, has wandered over to the far wall, past a cluster of bookcases and what looks to be an entire basic alchemy set. Her hand rests against the back door, the one that would lead into that room. I watch as she reaches down, twists the knob, and—

No entry, the house groans, and the door forgets itself.

Not yet, I agree quietly, tail pressed hard into the ground. "We'll go there last," I call out, beckoning to a rather bemused Lizzie.

"I suppose I was getting ahead of myself, wasn't I?" Lizzie muses, sauntering her way to a desk and lifting a massive sheet of parchment off it. I feel envy stir inside me, envy for her lightness.

My lips curl to a scowl, and I turn my focus back to the bookshelf. The shredded book lies accusingly on the shelf, next to yet more books whose contents may well be irreplaceable, or at least absurdly rare. What happens if I, hm...

Verity's shoulder presses into my own. "Mind helping me look through the paperwork over there?" Her voice is softer than usual, almost velvety. "There's a lot of it, and maps are a good starting point, I'll bet."

We take our time working through the hallway, and Ruby's interest in the various maps of the city is promising to see. She hasn't said what for, yet, but that's two things of use so far and that's a good sign.

Which eventually leaves us…

Standing in front of the door to the central room. A place I'd rather not go, but one that's almost certainly important.

Lena's hand has found its way back into mine, and I've shuffled closer to catch more of her warmth. My other hand rests on the brass knob, scales barely scraping the cold metal. Standing here already feels like having my scales ripped from my skin, leaving raw skin open to the biting wind.

I turn the knob until the lock clicks, cutting away that wounded flesh to reveal the bone beneath. "No questions about what happened in this room. Am I clear?"

"Ivy…" Lena murmurs. "Clear."

"Talking might help, but, it's your call," Verity adds, and Ruby and Lizzie's responses fizz into the background.

I peel my ribs back, one by one, and the door opens to my still-beating heart.