[color=lightsteelblue]Lia didn’t answer Mr Sword Guy’s question, because she was too busy glaring at the crystal that had disappeared into his hand.

‘[b]Hey![/b]’ She dropped out of the air, her wings folding behind her as she landed on the ground with a [i]thump[/i]. ‘[b]We agreed. Killing blow gets the shard.[/b]’ She stuck out the hand that wasn’t gripping a crossbow. ‘[b]Give it.[/b]’[/color]
[center][h3]~
[i]Elsewhere...[/i][/h3][/center]
All the villagers felt it.

A sudden chill in the late morning air. The taste of ash sitting in the back of their throats. There was no distant howl, no vengeful roar; only a mournful quiet that settled over their hearts. Some children asked why the adults looked defeated. The rest continued as they were, youth guarded by blissful ignorance. The village elders, regardless of where they were, looked towards the horizon. In their hands they clutched perfectly round, shining pearls.

At the village edge sat an elderly woman in a wooden armchair, her long grey hair braided into twintails draped over her shoulders. She lifted her hand and kissed the pearl it held, long and tender. Footsteps drew close behind her. She did not turn her head; she knew that her son stood behind her.

‘[b]We should be going after them[/b],’ he said.

He was angry. They all were.

‘[b]We should never have let them pass[/b],’ he continued. The words hissed out between clenched teeth, calm only for the sake of propriety. ‘[b]Following their rules is never going to change anything. They slaughter and pillage our gods, and–and now we have lost the River Guardian! We need to avenge her![/b]’

[i]Ah, the fire of youth.[/i] She lowered her pearl.

‘[b]It is good that you love her so[/b],’ she said. ‘[b]Her loss will be a difficult change for us to adapt to. But we [i]will[/i] adapt, my child. As much as we love her, the River Guardian lives... [i]lived[/i] for an age that spanned far before my own birth, and...[/b]’ Her faint smile grew crooked. ‘[b]Our understanding of her has always been tenuous at best.[/b]’

‘[b]Are you suggesting that she allowed herself to be felled?[/b]’ said the young man, incredulously.

‘[b]I am suggesting[/b],’ said the elder woman, serenely, ‘[b]that fate has its reasons for the losses we endure in life. Let the pieces fall where they may, my child.[/b]’

A deliberately controlled hiss of breath. 

‘[b]I am grown[/b],’ said her son. A beat of silence, where he seemed to ponder on a choice of words that he would not immediately regret. ‘[b]I will not sit by and make excuses for the ignorant thieves that toddle through our lands at the bidding of their fat and greedy masters.[/b]’

He stormed off. There were many things she might say to stay him, but she stayed silent, thumbing the pearl in her hands. 

Though they were far from the waters that lay at the bottom of the chasm, she heard it still:

The bubbling roar of a steadily swelling river.
[center][h3]~[/h3]
[img] https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/dragcave/images/e/e8/Sapphire_pink_hatchling.png[/img][/center]
Something was bad.

The hatchling had woken from its slumber, startled by the abrupt jerk that had shaken the ground. It wasn’t like all the other times the ground rumbled with familiarity. This one was different. 

And the ground had been still since.

That was around the time the hatchling had begun to cry. Constantly. Insistently. Carrier had come before, when it cried. Carrier always came. 

But the ground was still.

And the hatchling’s cries continued to echo into silence.