Onyx

Chapter 5 of Act 1 of "Obsidian and Flame"

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If you’re new to The Môrdreigiau Chronicles, welcome! You might find the Glossary helpful for some of these words. Colons indicate the sea dragon’s thought communications.

Obsidian and Flame chronicles the story of Panawr, a sea dragon prince with a deadly secret, and Arddun, who possesses a useless gift and has no desire to marry a prince. When they come together, sparks fly, but they grow aware that something more is at stake than the throne. Can they save their home, Caer Morgana, or will their quest be in vain?

Panawr and Arddun had an awkward private conversation. She made the suggestion that he could make a good Advocate (a lawyer) for the justice courts and that it would also make for a good back up plan if his campaign to rule fails. Panawr got all weird about that, but he’s giving the Advocate thing a try.

At the winter solstice, Panawr and Arddun discovered that they are not the only ones who cannot stand the taste of Goddess cakes.

Memories flooded in on him. Memories of catacombs, cakes, and one annoyed goddess.

Against Destiny, an "Obsidian & Flame" story

When the deluge of memory ended, Panawr blinked to find Arddun patting his cheeks, her frightened face too close to his. He brushed her away and she sat back on her heels.

:What… what was that?: Arddun asked. Her thought sounded small and frightened, reminding him of the young draig môr crying in the catacombs.

:That green-scaled girl was you?: He struggled to get his breathing under control, his gills flaring and fluttering.

Her brow creased, her gaze searching his face. :What are you talking about? What happened just now?:

:I’ve remembered everything. When I was a boy, I was chosen to deliver cakes to my ancestors.: Panawr somehow managed to keep his thought calm and even despite his racing mind. How was he supposed to save the caer?

Her eyes widened and she covered her open mouth. :You were the grey and silver draig môr? The one who shared his Goddess cakes with me?: They stared at each other.

:Who was the other boy? The one who stole your cakes? The one the Goddess said I must save?:

Panawr didn’t think her eyes could widen any further, but they did. :You saw the Goddess?: Her hands fluttered before her. :That means you were the last to see her in the Great Barrow.:

Panawr swallowed. :You remember it all?:

:I remember the boy stealing my cakes, you giving me yours, and I presented them at the altar.: She rubbed at her temples. :I prayed and then came home, I suppose.:

:Did you look for me, or the boy?:

Arddun shrugged her shoulders. :I couldn’t have named any of the other children that night. Everyone looked so different. He had grey scales like yours, but without the silver tips. The Goddess said you must save him?:

Panawr nodded. :Because he ate your Goddess cakes, he and his family are ill-fated, and the caer is doomed to fail.: Not that he had noticed any signs of it. Except for the being that had attacked him, never to be seen since. Except for his dreams. He rubbed at his beard. :This is another reason I must become the Esteemed. I need to save him and … and everyone.:

Arddun leapt to her feet and held out a hand to him. :Then let us go to the winter solstice, Prince Panawr. I’ve heard many dreigiau môr wonder why you never attend. Let’s change that tonight. Your people await.:

They retraced their steps to the wide balcony. The park below had emptied of the caer’s citizens, with only a few stragglers remaining. Panawr leapt onto the thick calcified railing. :Let me go first. I will not have you become the focus of my siblings’ attacks should they see us together and assume that you are my weakness.:

At Arddunn’s nod, he dove off the railing to the park below.

Arddun watched his graceful landing. What had he meant by her being his weakness? He didn’t like her. Why would he say that? She left the palace by more conventional means: which is to say, stairwells and doorways. She walked alone along the winding path that led up to the large circle of standing stones, lanterns lighting her way.

The children would all be abed now, sleepless from their exciting adventure out into the wild ocean, but safely tucked away. Even their parents seemed to have reached the stones ahead of her.

She passed through the large grey megaliths. The bards played and sang songs of hope. Dreigiau môr danced, drank, or ate Goddess cakes, and sometimes all three at once.

In the centre, stood the great stone altar and on it danced the Esteemed and her Consort. Cynwal and Indeg floated above them in a dreamy twirl. Many chose to slip away and complete the dragon dance ritual during the solstice. Arddun wondered if her sister and her partner would do so, given that Cynwal already carried their child. And if not, perhaps she should find somewhere else to sleep, for Cynwal’s hands caressed her sister’s body as if nobody had eyes.

Grimacing, Arddun looked in the crowd for Panawr. The Chief Healer and her family surrounded him, peppering him with questions. His silver and gold braided torc glinted in the ambient light. Their gazes met, a flicker of connection, before his attention returned to those in front of him.

Arddun strolled on, looking for her parents and extended family. Her father spotted her and drew her into the circle of family and friends. He handed her a Goddess cake. :I won’t make you eat it,: he told her, :but you’ll look less out of place if you held one.: He looked up at his daughter dancing with the prince. :I didn’t think she would do it, but she has truly won him over.:

She couldn’t argue with that.

Teithi ap Rhun soon joined Panawr. :What are you doing here?: He held up a flagon of medd reismôr. Someone else pressed a cup into Panawr’s hands. Teithi poured.

:There are far too many people here.: Panawr banked down the rising panic, the innate dread that someone would bump into him and expose his wound. Perhaps he should fish out the clasp he kept for the practice grounds. :And far too many of these.: He held up an uneaten Goddess cake.

Teithi plucked it from his hand and ate it in two bites. :More for me then.: He grinned, flecks of cake showing in his teeth.

Panawr sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. :Tomorrow, can you find a bard and get me a list of every male draig môr who wears grey robes here in Caer Morgana?:

:Why?: Teithi reached for another cake.

:I’m looking for someone around my age, perhaps a few years younger. I know there are a few amongst the royal guards but at least one of them is too old. If you can find them for me, I’ll speak with them myself.:

Teithi frowned. :What prompted this? Are you seeking to form a secret society of grey robes?:

Panawr sighed, shaking his head. :Clearly, you’ve had much to drink already.:

Captain Cynddylig ap Esni joined them, thrusting a Goddess cake at him. :M’ wife made it this morning. Best in all Caer Morgana.:

Accepting the cake, Panawr nodded. :I’ve heard your squadron rave about these.:

Cynddylig beamed. :Try it.:

Panawr glanced at Teithi, but his friend laughed. :Maybe you’ll like this one.:

The captain’s eyebrows rose. :Who doesn’t like Goddess cakes?:

Panawr could name two people but kept that to himself. He took a nibble, ready to manfully swallow the dusty, acrid globule.

:What—?: His eyes widened and he took a second bite. Flavour erupted upon his tongue. Cynddylig’s wife’s cake wasn’t just good, it was rapturously delicious.

He stuffed the rest of it into his mouth, ignoring Teithi’s goggle of surprise. :Your wife made these?: Panawr asked, his cheeks bulging with cake. His knees weakened with the sheer rapture of taste. :They are heavenly.:

Cynddylig beamed. :Just wait until I tell her!: He swam upward to look around for her in the crowd. :Where did she get to?:

:I want to try more.: Panawr left Cynddylig and Teithi and headed for the nearest table. Platters littered its surface, with a few cakes still remaining on each.

He picked up a cake and bit into it. :Oh by the Lady!:

He sagged against the table, a stiff arm holding him up. He really should be looking for a grey-robed male draig môr but these Goddess cakes were a revelation.

What had tasted like dust, like ash, now tasted like a floral explosion of sweetness, saltiness and some undefined glorious taste that transcended ingredients and flavourings.

He grabbed an empty platter and started choosing cakes from different platters. He didn’t know why his tastebuds had reawakened, but maybe Arddun’s had too.

He looked around for her, and found a wall of women approaching. :You’re trying my cake, Prince Panawr?: one of them asked, clasping her hands in front of her with a girlish glee that belied her advanced years.

:Which one is yours?: Panawr asked, seeing an opportunity. She pointed it out on his platter and he bit into it. He moaned with the sheer pleasure of its taste. :Oh by the Lady! You have a gift! It tastes so smooth and yet sparks fire in my chest!:

He looked around for more of those cakes on the table. :Do you have more of them?:

The woman saddened. :You were lucky to find one, Prince Panawr.:

:Try mine!:

Panawr found himself engulfed in a Goddess cake tasting. Each one should have been the same and yet they were different, tailored to each family’s preferred flavours.

In between praising the women’s cooking, he sent a thought. :Arddun, do you have a Goddess cake? You have to try it. They are Ah-maazing.:

:Are you serious?: Arddun’s abrupt thought came back to him. :You know how they taste. Are you well? Have you drunk too much?:

:Have had one cup,: Panawr promised her. :Try a bite.:

:I don’t have one,: she said. :There are none near me—:

:Where are you? I’ll come to you. I have several.:

:What happened to not revealing me as a weakness?:

Panawr growled in frustration. :It’ll take just a moment. This is more important.:

:How—: He didn’t hear the rest of her thought, focusing on extricating himself from the women. Watching them eddy out to share reports of his praises to others, he felt a warmth rise within. Perhaps it was the heartburn, but it rather felt like gratitude. Grateful that Arddun had suggested he join in the winter solstice.

He found her standing apart from the others. She leant against one of the stones, looking up at the membrane that kept them all in human form while in Caer Morgana.

His breath hitched and he paused. Was it the influence of the cakes, the medd reismôr, or did Arddun actually look beautiful tonight?

He gave his head a little shake. Pretty or not, he let the idea pass him by. He hadn’t let himself be attracted to anyone for a long time. He didn’t dare. Not only because the election approached. He didn’t want to cause hurt to anyone he cared about ever again.

He pasted on a grin and advanced, a platter of half-eaten cakes in his hand. He held it out to her. :Cake,: he said.

She pushed off the stones to stand upright and examined his offering with a serious expression. :Yes, they are,: she noted, hands clasped behind her back.

:Try one.: His lips twisted, hearing his thought sound like a command instead of a request.

She picked up one of the cakes, one that he had nibbled on, and allowed a few crumbs to pass her lips.

He watched her closely. :Well?:

She made a face. :Uhh, yum?: She chewed a bit more. :What is in this? It tastes like… like…:

:Death?: Panawr tried to hide his disappointment. If the Lady had returned his tastebuds, why hadn’t She done the same for Arddun?

She screwed up her nose. :Death-ish?: Arddun took another bite. :It tastes like bitter sorrow and—:

Panawr snatched the cake out of her hand and took a bite. He made a face, mirroring her earlier expression. :Ugh, you’re right. This is not a good one to start on. Try this.: He picked through the half-eaten cakes until he found a good candidate and handed it to her.

:How can you tell them apart?: Arddun surveyed the cake in her hand.

:Each is just a little different. When you’ve eaten a lot of them, you start to notice…: He trailed off, realising his stomach felt stretched, over-full.

Giving him the side-eye, Arddun bit into the second cake. Her eyes closed and her eyebrows rose. :What is this? It tastes like … summer.:

:Those came from the Chief Healer’s grandmother.: Panawr bobbled on his toes. :Aren’t they incredible? I almost ate all of it until I remembered you were probably avoiding eating them.:

Arddun shook her head at him. :You should really continue to mingle, Prince Panawr. Your attentions will be noted. Go dance—:

:No.: In an instant, Arddun had destroyed his joyous rapture, reminding him of all the danger he represented. He was still different from other dreigiau môr. :I won’t do that.: He handed her the platter. :I can’t eat any more. Enjoy them.: He turned on his heel and retreated before she asked him why.

This one holds quite possibly my favourite scene. I even snorted out loud in laughter at one point. What resonated or sparkled in this episode for you? Any questions? Come share them in the Comments section on the app/website.

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