Khaeris Dawndancer

This is Fine

Bronze dragons were masters of time. They could bend, twist, and knead it with the ease of a baker folding dough. They could peer into the future, manifest the past, and shiver the present into paralysis.

They could not, however, Khaeris thought, keep a schedule. Infinity did not daunt them. And calendars did not concern them.

“You were supposed to be here three hours ago.” Khaeris blinked owlishly and finished sitting up, peering into the doorway. She hadn’t been sleeping, but the room was dark and she’d been laying on the bed.

“I assure you, I was not. I think.” The dragon in humanoid form chirruped, not even bothering to sound indignant, but rather cheerful and half-distracted already. A light clap and the arcane lights around the room flared up. He turned to her. There was a pause and Khaeris could practically see the thoughts shift and lurch like the gears in a gnomish wristwatch. He pushed the glasses up onto his head, then pulled them down again immediately. “Perhaps.” He pulled his notebook against his chest as he pushed his way through the door. He closed it and sat unceremoniously down on the floor.

“I am here now. This is fine.” The dragon beamed, pulling his lips open over the human teeth. “Lariodormu. How do you do.”

Khaeris was becoming intimately familiar with quirks that seemed innate to their status. Introductions happened multiple times with some; or not unless demanded, with others.  Appointments were nebulous suggestions, more determined by momentary levels of enthusiasm than any mortal’s plans. They were never on time; usually late, but frequently--just enough to keep you guessing--early by days. Maybe weeks.

Khaeris enjoyed surprises, but in her current circumstances, her patience was worn thin quickly.
Dragons as a whole were majestic and powerful, enigmatic and often arrogant. But bronze dragons! Exasperating and endearing at once. “Lets get started then.” She pulled her scratching hand away from the scab on her arm, feeling the rice-sized grain just embedded below her skin. Her heart squeezed.

~~

The walls of the caverns were beautiful and after the latest interview, Khaeris found herself on the rooftop again, simply watching what passed for ‘sky’ and trying not to dwell on her situation. Every day that passed sunk the reality in a little farther. Corrected. She could leave, no one would stop her, but where would she go? Back to Silvermoon. But she’d have no where to go, no where to stay… Would the Shielded Mind be there? Maybe she could beg help from Dr. Deh’lorei. If he was there.

Her heart sank.

Her life had changed. Khaeris had been back in her own timeline for over a week now and she never could have imagined what it would have been like. It was terribly dull.

Past the panic, the shock, and the denial of the first twenty-four hours, things had settled quickly. She had nowhere to go. She had nothing except what she wore. She had no money.

All she had was her experience. To her luck, the Keepers of Time thought that was invaluable. She had been whisked in front of a medical examiner, then an arcanologist specializing in chronomantic anomaly. They took blood from her, they swabbed her cheek. She had refused to pee in the cup. People tutted over her results, often forgot she was there and talked about her, not to her. It was all very exciting. … For everyone but her.

They’d given her small room in one of the frozen buildings near the central chamber. She’d been furnished with a few pieces of clothing, been directed at communal meals, and in general she felt like she was in some sort of hospital. Certainly the researches felt like doctors gleefully searching for a diagnosis.

Her eyes fell on the large hourglass that dominated the central chamber. Dragons dozed around it, lounging as if backing in the sunlight. They were content and relaxed in seeming perfect counterpoint to the continual coiling of anxiety that was winding her tighter with every breath.

She couldn’t stay here much longer. Her sanity would suffer. She’d actually seen a few other mortals down here who had let the time streams addle them. Maybe they wanted to forget something. It seemed a reasonable way to go about it.

Had they forgotten her? Was she fading from the memories of the only people who knew her?

Khaeris, desperately, wanted to remember.