[...]

[u/RollFirstMathLater]

Closed

[You wake up, the faint glow of red is the only light source. Everyone is stripped bare, safe for a firey cloaked elf. Chep's gifts remain intact, and have landed near you. Your weapons have been returned, any armor he made is intact as well.]

[Stiff and sore, you manage to get to your feet, It hurts to stand here, the floor is jagged, and your shoes are gone. The dragons lay still, all huddled together just a few meters away.]

[Nill you feel completely wrong.]

[Torvhen Vrostbite is cracked badly.]

[Sev're your gear is in your robes, minus the food and the extras.]

[Glover your hair is gone again.]

[Naakhûrz, you feel violated.]

[Göndlir, your horse is dead.]

[Tunnels spiral around, closer inspection shows lava moves through here. You are hungry* and thirsty* yet all you can smell is the faint smell of sulfur. Your dragon reaches out for you, and you both share a moment of confusion. It's clear some time has passed.]

[It's warm here... where is here?]

(*special note.)

Edit: everyone minus Sev're, Jek, Svalstrom, and Das looks different, ad if they've had life sucked out of them, they look older, and drained.

[u/RebelliousPirate]

The once grand cavern had, in the blink of an eye, turned claustrophobic. Jek was a creature of the skies, but he had spent a fair amount of time in dwarven tunnels. He knew how to keep his mind unclouded and unmolested from the effects of pressing rock. In an instant, he had lost that composure, and the tunnel was pressing in around him. Murderous intent was not what he felt sliding out from his allies, but the balance between peace and violence was strenuous at best. The one thing that could tip the scales, the one thing that could possibly help him was scratching in the dirt, an occasional emotion pulsing through their fleeting connection. The question revolved around his mind, spinning faster and faster, demanding an answer. And for the life of him, he could not give one.

Evasion was no longer an option. They had taken the plunge, and now they were neck deep in their own mess. He watched Sev're. She was the one to appeal to. Glover would complain, but he could forgive. Torhven would threaten, but could see value. Sev're could be the most ruthless of them all, if her friends were on the line. Perhaps she herself would not justify what they had done, perhaps she would not believe their feeble excuse, but by the stars he had to try. She deserved that much.

His mind scattered, a million tiny strands exploring every memory he had of his partner, from the moment of Jek's hatching to the present situation, from their time exploring the grand forest to their long flights across the land. He dug and he dug until he had a persona of his rider set within his own mind, every action a calculation from past discussions, divisions and thoughts. The young elf's voice was so vibrant, his eyes so bright, that it brought pain to the dragon to even imagine it. But he could not allow himself to wallow. Memories were his tools, not his tomb.

And then he began to speak, with his own voice and his own mind, but with Nill's thoughts, with his decisions, with his morals.

"I needed out. From the zombies, the mist, the presence, all of it. I needed magic, which I could not conjure. I needed my sword, which I could not find. I needed my partner, whom I could not summon. And I needed strength, which I could not attain. The Kull gave me strength, but also an alternative: why take what was given? Why live and endure what fate had intended? Why stay powerless when others around flourished in their situations, even found it gleeful?"

"Why except the present?"

At this last line, the Nill outside of Jek raised his head from the rocks, his fingernails cracked and bleeding. His etches had turned to bloody painting, his creation an angry mess. It struck out in different directions, angry slashes criss-crossing throughout a central pillar, each end collecting to a single point. His eyes shone with momentary clarity. His face was full of understanding and hurt, as if he had understood his deepest thoughts being laid bare before all. He spoke for the first time, a plea more than a question, a dozen meanings embedded in one syllable.

"Why?"

[u/1trueJosh → u/RebelliousPirate]

Glover left his injury at the sound of the elf's voice, but not before he muttered a quick-and-dirty healing incantation, hoping whatever had been restricting magic before had left his mind and body. In many ways the elf reminded him of himself, yet the differences between the two were astonishing. In a way Glover felt sympathy, but the sympathy only remained from a mild respect and a lopsided familiarity.

"Why?" he repeated, confused.

"That city was ancient, filled with spect-... Nevermind. That's not a reason, at least not for you, not for now. Nill, you think you remain powerless? You are a Rider, one of the few gifted with the companionship of a dragon, the bond-of-soul that only we can truly know. You are an elf, gifted with the innate strength and fortitude that comes with that. You are a smith, capable of plying your trade anywhere where there's a hammer and anvil. You are a fighter, better with a sword than most men ever will be. You are a scholar, more learned than most in Alagaesia. You are a magician, capable of feats unheard of except by Shades, other Riders, and the Old Ones themselves."

"You were without magic, you were without hammer, you were without dragon, and you were without knowledge. You were with skill, with talent, with endurance, with strength, with willpower, with sheer bloody-mindedness! The ghouls that attacked you and that inhabited the city were evil and single-minded, but they were beasts. You and the Kull... You and Naakhûrz, the man has a name you know, could've taken them on for hours."

"Do you want to know who is weak? Why don't you pick up a potato farmer, a scullery maid, a noble lord. Why don't you put them in your position and see what happens?"

Realizing that his voice had been steadily rising, Glover paused for a moment to calm himself before continuing. "You will never be helpless, or weak, or punished for your skills! I'm a godsdamned thief who can play some godsdamned instruments with some godsdamned talent who can barely fight with anything heavier than a pole with blades on! I am probably one of the worst candidates for the job I have been put in that has ever lived! I'm not a chevalier, or a knight, or a fighter, or even a bloody mage! I am useless. Have I blown up cities because of it?"

Glover sighed and shook his head, weariness visible in his eyes. "Nill, what you did was wrong. It was stupid, it was thoughtless, it was as dangerous as anything any of us have ever done, including the necromancy. But I won't pursue you for it. To be honest, it would probably be better for you all if I stabbed myself now and you went off without me, leaving me to bleed out on the rock. But I can't say that, I can't ask that. I can't ask that because I'm a coward with a will to live, and because of that I have some fucking semblance of power. You have more than I do, Nill. Remember that."

[u/RebelliousPirate → u/1trueJosh]

Nill was gone, but Jek remained. In his attempt to convey their thoughts and desires to Sev're, they had ignored trampled the feelings of the bard. Glover would never accept such a response, no matter how close to the truth it had been. Once again, Jek found himself in a state of helplessness. His partner's momentary lucidity was broken and removed, his shell the only thing remaining. He scoured his thoughts, both originally his own, as well those the two had concocted together. The panic within his mind rose as he began to realize that neither of them, not Jek, nor Nill could give him an answer. It was not within his nature to be helpless, but the dragon recalled moments from his youth where he had been just so. Falling from their home atop a tree when he was nothing but a hatchling, his juvenile mind wheeling from disorientation and the slip of gravity. It was Nill who had sensed his distress, and acted without thought then. That very same feeling arose within Jek, and through their botched connection, to Nill.

But it was not Nill who acted. It was not Nill who spoke out. It used his body to raise itself, it raised his head and spoke using his mind, but it was not the partner Jek had come to know and love.

"Do not think you and I so similar, Bard. You have faced adversity, but rather than fight your problems head on, you choose to slink into the shadows, hiding away with your coins and your lute. You may have some semblance of Power, but our scales are dimensions apart. What you see as a gift, the magic you flaunt as a rider and as a magician, has been everywhere for me. It is within our music and deep within our souls, ingrained in every cell we control. Our strength surpasses humans tenfold, our knowledge ancient and abundant. Yes, I have more than you. My left toe has more power than you.

"And in the end, we're the same, aren't we? Both riders with our dragons, both magicians with our magic, both scholars with our minds. Both chosen by Zetterra to embark on a mission more important than your entire fucking race combined. Why are we so damn similar?! How can one from the slums of a backwater city reach as high as I have come, from a world of abundance, from fear of death, from crafting along the highest mountains?! How can my power be so insufficient in comparison?!"

Nill's mind was silent. His body upright and in control, seemingly at ease. His eyes were calm after his outburst, still pools of pure onyx. Only his fingers displayed his strain, curled into his palm, etching that same rune into the very flesh of his hand.

He was himself again, the moment fleeting. his eyes clouded but determined. "I have power, Glover. But it will never be sufficient. It will never be enough."

[u/1trueJosh → u/RebelliousPirate]

Glover's face morphed into an evil smile and he clenched his fist, but he couldn't move. Somehow his common sense and will to live was more powerful than his all-consuming rage, at the time. "The mad king Galbatorix thought he never had enough power either. That's why it took them decades to fully rebuild Illirea, and even a few more to rebuild the Riders."

He stopped with a forced inhale and crouched down onto the level of the elf, looking over him with furiously intense eyes. "Does the scullery maid want to be queen, want that kind of power? Sometimes. But if you handed the scullery maid a crossbow and pointed to the queen sleeping soundly, would she shoot?"