Farheisa, the Mother of Storms

In front of the massive shadow sat a woman. She was clothed with a long, blue dress that even covered her hair. Her hands were folded on her lap, and her eyes scrutinized us with slit-like pupils. Her skin was almost glowing in the dark. At first glance one could mistake her for a doll.

But Lopus wasn't talking to her. Instead his words were meant for the shadow behind the woman. In a slow motion it began to move, rising up and towering over us. Despite it's characteristic shape I only recognized what stood before us after it opened its glowing, snakelike eyes.

A dragon. A real, living dragon, looked down at us with its fearsome gaze. A squeak of excitement escaped my throat, before I could stop myself. It was at least 200 feet in size, and twice as long. The dragons eyes wandered over Skarra to me.

The doll-like womans eyes began to glow in the same way as the dragons, a light bluish-white, spawning little cracks of light, that creeped over her whole face. She opened her mouth and as she spoke, two voice were layered above each other. Her voice and something far older.

"Who do you bring me here, little hunter?"

The question was like thunder, shattering Lopus chill attitude, causing him to tremble slightly. I couldn't tell whether it was from excitement, to be adressed a by dragon, or fear.

The man, still kneeing, extended his hand towards Skarra, as if he wanted to present her to the dragon.

"This is Skarra of the nightstalkers. She is a formidable fighter who even bested me in battle. Her movements are like a ..:"

"SILENCE", the women growled as the head of the dragon shoot upwards, stopping at arms length away from Lopus head.

"I don't need to hear another of your poems."

The dragons gaze fixed on Skarra, but it was still the woman that spoke.

"I am Farheia, the mayor of this city. Tell me nightstalker, what led you into my domain?"

Before Skarra could answer, the woman added.

"Choose your words wisely child, they might be your last."

As the darkling opened her mouth, her voice was perfectly calm. She spoke in a graceful tone, that I never would have expected of her.

"I am in search of someone, oh great dragon. My guild has send me, to find my former mentor. Maria, the paragon of truth."

Farheias left eye twitch upon hearing Skarras words. A growl came not only out of the womans but of the dragons throat as well.

"So your guild knew of that womans threachery, yet neglected to inform us? How infuriating."

The way the woman voiced the last word made my skin crawl up my spine. Skarra just stared the dragon dead in the eye.

"So she was here?"

The dragons and the womans head nodded in unison.

"Until a few weeks ago. She came here to inform us of a great threat that is growing within the ranks of every guild. She asked for shelter and an army, to take on this threat. As we refused to give it to her, she stole a powerful artifact and left."

After speaking the last sentence the woman gasped and clutched her mouth with her hand, like she wanted to force the words back in. She looked at the dragons head. When she spoke, only one voice came out of her.

"Great mother, is it wise to inform strangers of our predicament."

Farheia looked at the woman under her neck. Two voices left her throat again.

"My deer child, there is no reason to be concerned. They either leave her with the intention of helping us or they won't leave at all."

The dragons gaze wandered back to us.

"Which ever option they prefer."

"I - If I may, great dragon. I knew Maria since I was child. No one knows her better then me. She was my first and only Inrak."

The dragon stared at Skarra for a while before the woman spoke with two voices again.

"And how are we supposed to trust you then? The guild might've given you the order to kill her, I presume, but that doesn't grantee that you won't change your mind half way through."

For a while Skarra just stood there, staring at the dragon, but her gaze was unfocused like she was looking elsewhere. Her lips were shaking. As I saw tears forming in her eyes, my heart sunk. I felt her trembling under my shoulder. When she finally spoke, her voice was husky.