Get over it! [Private with Lexia]

How long has it been?

The Empire has imploded, and with, all the dragons within which he once knew were no longer with him. He wished he could pretend they followed the same path as him - spending months in hiding to consolidate with the recent happenings. The tyrant leader was overthrown, Tenebris taking up the vacant throne, the annexation of several tribes. A lot has changed. The Ebonwings were rarely seen walking with their 'superior' brethren, the Nightwings among the Empire. Now, they were everywhere. Not just them. The tribe at first seemed to have opened its doors for the Earthwings and Firewings as well. Further investigation told him that it was more than that. The Nightwings were now part of some Emporium with the mentioned tribes. The largest of any annexation among Pyrrhia. Some dragons agreed to this and etched their names among the history of Pyrrhia, others refused the changes and stepped down their positions. What happens to them varies.

As for himself, he had grown tired of waiting around and doing nothing. But once he returned, it was like only yesterday since she had died. There he sat, before her grave. Mythryl. Even seeing the carvings of her name upon the marble stone brought tears to his eyes. There was no birth date. No one had bothered to ask before she fell. He had been away from her grave for so long, and he regretted it. She was not known among the Empire. And when she fell, no one else shed a tear or even took notice. It was a life of an assassin. Or so they would have been. It hurts. To think that she strove to become one, but died before she could. If that second tournament had continued, perhaps she would have passed with a bit more peace. No one could have knew what would happen to her. A sudden slip and she broke more than just her neck. She was everything to him, and yet fate granted her such a trivial death like she meant nothing. The thought gritted his fangs, his eyes flaring as he felt it change to his anger.

He cleaned the last bit of weed that stuck out in the corner, and renewed the flowers. A black lily with red stripes like a tiger. She hated the red, he remembered. It reminded her of her so-called... inferiority. But it never bothered Sly. It made her all the more beautiful like a rose among a valley of poppies. She would probably be growling at him for that same flower, if she were here.

The grave was one of many at the outskirts of the tribe, lined evenly and with the same tombstone like everyone else, with only him present. The Nightwings were prideful and ambitious lot, with only a handful coming here in honour of the memories of their loved ones. Some grave were in worse shape, neglected since perhaps the day they were buried. Sly never really mourned before. Not that he had many friends or any family. He sat there, staring at her grave, thinking of the things that had been...

And things that could have been...

Crimson and greys dashed through the FireWing borders, her legs tearing through the underbrush. She tested more than just her speed, but how readily her plating could still protect her underbelly, a former burden to her as they had been more than soft during her childhood. Harsh flames had quickly set whatever their problem was. Eyes narrowed on a potential obstruction and her mind racing. Stopping? No, she'd tumble and probably snap a claw, especially with these roots around. The last thing she needed was to injure her paws. With a growl, her muscles bunched slightly, slowing just a fraction to leap over that fallen tree.

Her feet didn't snag, instead slamming into the grounds, the heels digging into the soft soils as she slowed herself down from her sudden bolt. Pulling herself in, chest heaving, a smirk pulled onto her face. You really think I'd fall for something like that, mother nature? Well, you'd be utterly wrong!

Lexia raised her head to the heavens, her eyes softening as she allowed the suns rays to warm her dark scales. A FireWing at heart, the heat it gave only made her melt with joy as the filtered warmth radiated on her. They partially stung her scars, but she paid no attention to it. After all, what's the point in worrying about the past when you really, really can't even fix it? Rather happily, she began to walk the former borders of the NightWing and FireWing territories. She'd been around when they'd decided to unite the lands, but, true to herself, she didn't really care. Allies or not, the NightWings were always the ones closest to them.

So why get all happy and kissy with each other when two lands united? It could raise more issues... Hopefully it wouldn't, but there was always that potential.

Rolling her shoulders as she walked, she continued down, her scythe tipped tail swinging back and forth with every single step. Several minutes, or more, of walking later, Lexia paused. Tilting her head to the side, she looked through the trees, eyes narrowed slightly. Admittedly, she'd seen that same thing over there on a regular basis. But... She never really went and asked. It wasn't really her business and, normally, she had other things to get to.

With a shrug, she made her way over to there, weaving between the graves and ensuring not to step on those stones. Apparently, if she did, it was disrespectful. Not that she particularly cared, but still, disrespectful was disrespectful and she didn't need more people questioning her. Coming up to where he sat, it didn't seem like he'd noticed her, the white skull-like mask over his face, noticing his slightly hunched form. Drooped wings. Signs she knew of sadness. Pushing onward until she came to the right side of the grave, she opened her maw to speak.

They were meant to be memories well cherished, but their time together was far too short. It had been years after all. He remembered her features, but the sound of her voice was fading into distant memory. Until now, he could barely even recall it. He could not remember anything else apart from her colours. There was nothing which he could have used to keep such a memory. Artwork. Story. Any of that would do. But before he could do any of that, she was already gone. How long had he been here? He lost track of time. He should be heading back soon. Though it was painful for him to admit that despite all these years, he had never gotten over her death.

A female suddenly spoke to his left, and he casually rolled his eyes to her. Mythryl. His heart jumped, then he realised it was not exactly her before he could turn. No, that wasn't her. Though she looked a lot like her, if the red of her scales were rings, and if her tail actually had a scythe at the end than black protrusions resembling it. The voice. He could not even remember. Sly huffed a sigh, looking back to the grave. His heart was still racing a bit.

I have, he said simply. Normally there would have been a bit of smug in his voice, and he would have given a much longer response to accompany that. But her memories affected him so greatly. It was really the first time he experienced loss of someone close to him. Even the first loss he experienced, the death of Tempest, was a bit hard for him to get over. It made him reconsider his ambitions in becoming one of the greatest healers of Pyrrhia, but at least he had rekindled that flame.

She... was everything to me, Sly said, clenching his eyes shut when his voice cracked at the last word. But fate graced her... with such a simplistic trivial death that is an accident. He held his tongue from then on, fighting back tears in vain. One had trickled down, but he paid no note of it. Craning his head, he looked up into the skies, filled with the grey clouds like it would rain soon. I... haven't seen her for a long time. I think I am starting to forget what she looked like, like how I forgot how sweet and cold her voice was, her soft and deadly touch. He did not know why he spoke so much to stranger about Mythryl. Perhaps it was the longing to talk about this to someone. Or just to spread memories of her to the oblivious tribe.

Whatever it was, he just didn't care.

Lexia tilted her head to the side, a small hum leaving her throat. Judging by the double take, this other dragon had seemed to recognise her for a few moments, but only to have his hopes dashed. Admittedly, her voice was harsh, rougher than she'd meant it to be. Oh well. He still responded, his own voice laced with misery, as if the memories were slipping through his talons. Water unable to be contained resembled in his memories, unable to be kept by him as time went on.

However, it unsettled her when he spoke simply, stating that he hadn't seen her for a long time. Depending on how long it was, that could drive a dragon into sadness. But having the last memories torn from him would probably make it worse. With a sigh, Lexia shook her head. "If it's been so long, then why would you keep coming back? You waste away your life and claim to love her. Yet here you are, doing something that she would utterly hate you for. I know for a fact that, if I even had someone, I'd never want them to do this to themselves. Tear their being apart after I had died. Becoming something that they truly weren't. Something that's foreign." Her voice was harsh and firm, a tone that she would never be able to shake from herself.

"Why do you come back, year after year, keeping your entire life at a stand still? Look up." Lexia's form turned away from him, a sad smirk pulling on his maw."Wouldn't she want you to move forward? No matter how hard it was?"

Lexia inquired, before flicking her tail in annoyance, her paw moving to press against the soil that was so neatly tossed from the removal of weeds. I'll make it up to you, I promise... To make sure that you rest peacefully. Anger rose in her chest, threatening to overflow and show it on her features, however, she kept her head low. No. She wouldn't allow it on her face. Lex removed her paw, her magenta eyes boring holes into Sly, almost as if to stare into his soul. One instruction left her maw, almost demanding it from him, no matter how angry Sly was at her for saying those previous words.

Sly stiffened a little as she spoke. Since his disappearance, he had only seen her a few times. The torment was still fresh after all these years, his heart twisted and broken to come back to the place where it would remind him of her death. And yet, this female expected him to move on oh so quickly? It was typical of any Nightwing, which he judged her to be with the majority of her body being black scaled. Aside from clenched fangs, he held back his anger. Advice. Nothing more. No one knew Mythryl but Sly at the time. What makes her think she know what Mythryl would think of him at this time? She spoke as if moving forward was as simple as walking, almost with disregard with how emotions would work.

He clenched one of his claws into the dirt. Sly would have to go soon anyways. It was rare for something to tick him off so easily like this. Perhaps he was getting old. Or times have changed even him, to lose that smug. It... is never easy to move forward. Sly spoke, his voice restrained a bit. His eyes had remained yellow throughout the conversation, an emotion, to those who knew, that he could never hide. She was born alone. Raised alone, until she found me. We promised to be together. And then... she died alone. No one was there when it happened. No one looked for her but me when she was gone for three days. Can you imagine that? She was dead for three days before I found her. Do you... honestly think I can just move forward from that so easily?

He raised a paw to wipe away a tear before it could land.

And look at me. After I buried her all by myself, I ran away from her. Her grave left alone and neglected until I came back a few years later. Even I have turned my back to her until now. And now, all I can do is make up for what I have done... even if she is no longer here to see. Sly readjusted his skull mask so he could wipe away the tears that begun to bite into him after neglect.

So why are you here?

Lexias words fell on dead ears.

For a moment, her heart fell.

But, instantly, anger rose on her face, her spheres glowing a gentle orange as she glared at him. "And how do you think she would feel, suffering in agony for those few moments, then to have their mate just throw themselves away in guilt and anger?!" With every word, her anger rose, the scars intensifying in their glow as the flames built within her muzzle. Frustrated at herself, Lexia shook her head to clear the dancing tongues of fire from her snout.

She noted his claws digging into the ground, the eyes sparing yellow, annoyance, that Lex could hear in his tone. Right. Of course he wouldn't trust her at all.

His question took her off guard, but she raised an eyeridge to him, concealing her surprise. "As for why I am here, I thought that would be rather simple for someone of your intelligence to figure out. But maybe you're still just as stubborn or clueless from when you healed her paw." Lexia deflected the inquiry, not allowing it to put her off from the focus that she held on that dragon. Yes. Lexia had heard of him, admittedly, maybe more than she wanted to tell him. Wait.

Had she told anyone about that?

Realising the potential mistake, Lexia snarled at herself. "Fine. I came over because I had noticed you around these graves once or twice before. So I was curious. My apologies for coming over, but I dislike it when dragons wallow in their own self pity and REFUSE to get themselves free of it. It irks me. Frustrates me. But whatever." Lexia waved a paw dismissively, before turning her head away from him, her intentions clear.

She was tired and frustrated. Sleeping at home sounded like a good idea.

He snorted at those words. Mythryl would have been angry with him anyways for mourning on her like this. Perhaps there was something he could take from this. Sly only half-listened to what this female said, until she mentioned something that rather surprised him. She knew about their first meeting? If there was any memory of the time with Mythryl which he could recall, one of them was this. But they were alone at the time. Sly frowned a little, wiping away the last of his tears before giving her a questioning look.

She quickly changed her stance, stating her reasons for approaching him. Why him among all the other mourners who came and went, he never knew. But if he could take anything from this, it would be that he had gained some insight from those would not come here to mourn for the dead. He watched her leave. With new insight, came a new question. One that would perhaps frighten him a little more than anything else. How did this female know about their meeting? Was she trailing them this whole time? Had she have known Mythryl and she never told Sly about this? He wanted to ask, but figured that it would be rude to do it now and chase after her.

But still. Knowing their first meeting... looking almost like Mythryl... no, that would be impossible. No one within the history of Pyrrhia had ever risen from the dead. Her grave was right before him, sparking a bit of curiosity. He could dig her grave and find out, but if this turned out to be her playing tricks on him, then he would have just desecrated Mythryl's grave, adding that on top of his neglect and ignorance over her body. Oh if only she were here now, who knows what she would do.

Lexia had slipped. Allowed that one sentence out of her mouth. Half way back to her den, she paused. Gracefully, she raised her gaze to the sky. She wasn't them, call it a twist of fate, but things had happened. Things that Lexia not her understood. Whatever it was had happened, it twisted through and changed both of them. With a sigh, she shook her head. No. There was no point in allowing her thoughts to dwell on those memories anymore. The dragoness had more pressing matters to attend to. Such as sleep. Lowering her head, she continued forward, forcing herself towards that den of hers.

When Lexia got there, her head barely was resting against her tail before she was sent into the realms of sleep.


It'd been around a week or so and Lexia was traveling along a rather familiar path. Previously, she'd cleared the ground of that fallen tree- however, that did take her several days to actually achieve. Legs were aching, the only thing that wasn't was her wings. But they weren't too helpful with travelling. After all, she decided that she actually enjoyed walking. Sure, she had to be careful about rocks, roots, whatever was on the ground, but she still preferred it, it gave her a sense of peace. Isolation. Somewhere to calm herself down.

Shrugging to herself, she stretched out her cramped wings once more, giving them a little sympathy. With a hum, her eyes wandered back towards the same grave. Smirking a little, the dragoness clambered up into the tree tops. Silently, Lexia crawled along the branches, trying to pick to see if he was there again. A sigh left her. The familiar white mask almost signifying he was there, especially when it shone so brightly against his black scales.

Again. He was there. Dammit.

She dropped to the ground, before making her way over towards it. Unimpressed. However, she didn't voice any of those annoyances until she were almost up next to him, again. "I see that you still are here? I.... Suppose it kinda goes to show that you really don't listen to words of both wisdom and bluntness." For once, a look of sympathy actually came on her face for a few moments, before she dashed it away. Lex was frustrated. Now wasn't a time for showing sympathy.

Another week went like it was yesterday. It was almost the same old routine, much like the days before he went out with the tyrant stealing territory from the rogues. Aero, Lead, Rii. He wondered how the three were doing after all this time... if they were still around anyways. He did not feel like he had made any progress with moving on within the tribe, even though he was able to put aside his grief and come back to work.

Now, he was given some days off to cope with this grief once more. Instead, he spent it going to a local drinkery and ordered something to drown his own sorrows in. Despite being a brewer and mixer himself, he never drank as much as he did. Now he knew why they do that. For a moment, he had forgotten everything. About why he was so miserable, yet it was as if instincts took him to a strange place. He could not tell where. His vision was doubled, and he felt like he was gonna collapse at any moment every time he took a step. Sly was kicked out of the drinkery, but not before taking a large gulp of something from another dragon's drink.

He got a black eye, but it was worth it.

Mythryl. He remembered now. That dragon. That stupid dragon. How could she be so damn clumsy? Why did she just leave him like that? He thought they were happy together. He thought they were going to be assassins. And yet...

Sly gritted his fangs. You IDSHIOT!! He roared in his stupor, slamming his forehead against the gravestone. His skull mask thudded against the stone surface, lopping off his snout and falling off somewhere. He did not care. Something warm trickled over his eyes, and he just shook it off. No one... No one... gav you... permisshion... to die!

The thud on the tombstone. The drunken slurs. He hadn't heard her. The skull mask thing clattered away, blood trailed down his face, his eye swollen. Her breath caught in her throat and a dull snarl came from her.

A deep, angry snarl.

Instantly, Lexia was moving. From a standstill, in mere paces, cleared the distance. Her head lowered, ramming her shoulder into his side. Hard enough to bruise, but not enough to break anything. While he fell, her paws moved quickly. Front right paws grabbed both of his, pressing them into the ground. Her hind legs grabbed his thigh, claws partially digging in as she held him there. Tears of anger trailed down her eyes.

He'd fallen exactly where she didn't want him.

Her free front paw grabbed his muzzle as his body finally hit the ground. Lexia's heavier weight would be able to keep him there with ease, a normal Sly would have been able to shove her away. But, drunk as he was, the chances were minimal. A snarl rose in her throat as she raised his head for his eyes to stare straight into her own. To see her pain for doing this, regret, but anger of him bringing himself to what he had. "No. No one gave her permission. She didn't even give it to herself." She growled, her claws mildly digging into his lower jaw, enough to prick and hurt, but not enough to draw blood from the contact.

"Look. Up. And get a grip on yourself. Look at you! Do you think that's what she wants! To let you rip yourself apart?!" Lexia asked, her voice raising in anger- something that she had trouble controlling while she saw someone tearing their life apart for something so trivial. "Do you think she wants you to throw your LIFE away because of her own accident?!" Lexia roared, before throwing his head out of her grip, hot, angry tears streaming down her face, but she refused to let him go. Her teeth were shown, but gritting together to hold herself from tearing this dragon limb from limb.

He wanted to go on some drunken rambling over her grave. For whatever reason, he cared not. There was a lot he wanted to let out, but no matter what, the scars that were left were deep and only brew more grief. Just as he recovered from hitting his head against the grave, another force struck him against the side. It knocked the air out of him, and he immediately lost his footing. The first thing he thought was that the same dragon followed and wanted to settle the score, and Sly snarled back at the dragon. He tried to fight back, but his limbs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't they move? Why do they hurt so much? Before he could answer those questions, even his neck was getting crushed. Through the blurred vision, he saw a black mass, yelling at him.

He blinked several more times, until he could get his eyes to focus, if only for a split second, to see those familiar features again. Mythryl? She came back? He felt relieved for a moment and relaxed within his drunken stupor. Until he recalled that Mythryl was dead, and that this was the dragon that met him a week ago.

What ish it naow...? Sly said slowly and rather sleepily. It was very discomforting in his current position. He could not even rub his own eyes awake. This female was roaring something at him. He squinted, trying to focus. Then he heard her asking if this was what Mythryl wanted. If he were normal, he would have been able to control his temper. But with his current state, he let out a sudden growl and roared. What do you know!? What the hell do you know about her!? About ush? Myth wash more than just a friend of mine! How dare you!? How dare you waltz up to me and shpit on our memoriesh like that!? Ish she nothing to you!? Doesh her passhing mean nothing to you? I loved her! He choked within the last sentence, eyes blurring again, and he doubted it was from the alcohol. It was like his eyes were melting, his right one flaring up in pain again, but he could care less. I loved her... and she'sh gone...

Sly squeezed his eyes shut, head flushing as he could no longer fight back his tears. He sobbed quietly, resting his head to the ground on the side. His body quivered as he whimpered, weeping for a long moment. He missed her. He missed her so much. He would give anything to back to that time. That time they last met. Just one more day with her.

How...? He asked. How... am I going to move on?

Lexia held him down firmly, allowing his outburst against her to wash from her scales like water from a ducks back. Her claws continuously dug into him, preventing him from moving- that was until he started to cry, the drunken madness lulling him into it. That was the moment that Lexia carefully stepped from him, releasing the dragon from her vice hold.

As he sulked, Lexia looked down at him, her eyes cold. "I know more than you think, that's all I can tell you- quite literally, that's all I can say. I am aware that she was your mate and, just for the record, I know that her final thoughts were not about herself. But about you. Her love for you." Lexia sighed, her head blossoming with a new headache, the thorns digging deep into her mind. "I am sorry for the agony that you are going through. But you do yourself no favours. And that's that."

At his last comment, Lexia felt herself step forward. Sympathy mainly drove her with this action, displaying something that she never had before. Carefully, as if she were going to disrupt him horribly, Lexia lowered her head. Gently, gingerly, she nuzzled his muzzle. Her voice became soft, trying to ensure that he wouldn't be too... spooked by the action. She suddenly pulled away from him after Lex said what she had to say, her headache blooming into something almost akin to a migraine.

She finally got off him, and as fast as limbs would allow - still slow - he wiped and covered his bruised eye. The tears only continued, as if he had broken the dam that contained it all. He wanted to roar, bellow into the sky. Scream all of his pain into the world. But he knew better than to make more of a fool of himself. The female had spoken, the words would only reignite his anger. He thought he would forget everything that would happen here anyways. That was always what happens with someone drinking far too much, like all of this was just one big nightmare. He wished it was as simple as that.

He relaxed a bit, the moment he heard her say that her final thoughts were of him. Sly fought off the urge to yell at her like what the drink was telling him to do, and just think about it for a moment. If he could through all this stupor. Then, he felt a warm touch against him. It was soft and tender, much like that of Mythryl's. He purred a little, about to return it, but only met the air. Then, another strange line from the female. One last puzzle? Mythryl loved to tease him with puzzles when they first met. Oh he missed those days, wishing to see her again... just one last time.

Perhaps he would sober up the next day and forget everything. But then again, he doubted this would be something he could easily forget. Something was odd about that female for sure... she knew so much about Mythryl, even the little-most detail that should have been personally between them two. It was like as if... as if...

Sly groaned, his head starting to throb. Oh he was going to enjoy the next few moments of massive headaches an such. He barely had the strength to stand anyways, fearing his stomach was going to curl and spew. And so, he rested on the pathway, where he was amidst the graveyard. Then he drifted to sleep...

~~~Timeskip~~~

Two days went by rather quickly, probably because of how hungover he was.

Only this time, he remembered the female's words vividly. Falling asleep in a gravesite was one thing, but to think that the female was probably Mythryl... he wanted to believe that he had his head too hard against the gravestone. Thank goodness it was marble, so he could easily rub off the speck of blood there. His break was ending soon, and even hearing the word of alcohol was enough to put him on the brink of throwing up.

At least he was able to get his mind of Mythryl for a while. Actually, he was not as sad as he was before. Rather, he was in awe. His stay at the grave was rather short, since he could not stop thinking about the female from earlier. He replaced the flowers, gave Mythryl a minute of silence, before deciding to call it off. It was... strange. He would be expecting her to come by and scold at him. Perhaps he needed to stay longer, but he did not really want to risk it.

Instead, he decided to take a walk around the outskirts of the tribe to clear his head. If only there was a park... but the muddy old swamps was better than nothing.

Lexia sighed, watching that dragon just half pull himself over and collapse in the middle of the graveyards paths. It didn't take long before he was snoring, a sigh leaving her maw. Why. Why was it like this? Why didn't he just get over himself, accept what he couldn't change and just look up? The dragoness was going to only be so stubborn, so persistent with him. If he really didn't care and was too wound up in his past to look up, then so be it. She didn't care. Why would Lex waste her time on this?

Lex sighed. Whatever. With a snort, the dragon turned her back to him, walking over to the grave. With a small snarl, she pressed her paw into the dirt. The stone was partially damaged for Sly's actions of headbutting it, but still, she looked at the name. A smile pulled at her features. Walking to the back of the stone, she raised a claw. There, she etched the females birthday onto the slab, a dash, then the date that she had left the realm of the living. Then she smirked, adding a small mark to it.

It was after that that she left, leaving the dragon to wallow in his own misery, but amusement sparking in her eyes. A question mark was what she had added.


Lexia groaned, flicking the mud from her paws. Ew. Why did she decide that this was a good idea? She was nowhere near that graveyard, although looking to see if he were there did cross her mind, but she had more pressing matters. Well, at least, they were more pressing to her. Lexia hadn't eaten for several days, the food she gathered being fed to someone else who needed it more. By now, it was safe to say that she'd been running on increasingly low energy levels. Lexia was hungry. Growling, her eyes returned to the swamps. There was something in there that she had been tracking down for around an hour. From FireWing territory to this marshy area. It'd taken a shamefully long duration of time. However it looked like she had finally cornered her prey.

The large deer struggled in the murky depths, the swamps non firm ground causing it to sink. With a smirk, Lexia's wings opened, beating several times to lift and dive forward. Claws pulled up that deer, before she carried and dumped it on firmer grounds. With a snarl, teeth snapped its neck, ending its suffering rather quickly and mercifully. The food's taste welled in her mouth, the half starving dragon tore through the flesh, making quick work of it.

However, that barely sated her, a sigh leaving her maw as it pulled into annoyance. Grand. She was still feeling famished.

Pushing away from the remains that she refused to eat, her flames made quick work of them, tail brushing away the evidence of her feast. It was only then that she noted a black dragon gaining grounds on her. He had been far enough not to have noticed what she had been doing. A grumble left her as she made her way over to the familiar dragon. "You're not at the grave?" Lex asked when he'd came within talking distance, genuinely surprised with him. A smirk hid itself though. Maybe he finally decided to listen to her...

His eyes were elsewhere, looking out to the borders that separated them from the Icewings. They were part of another alliance, and yet the rogue territory in between remain unclaimed for unknown reasons. It conveyed something eerie for him, wondering what was happening over the land of ice. Not that he could go out and see for himself. Not after the little debacle ages ago. It was hard to trust them with anything, at least on their side. He then paused, his claws sinking into the mud for a bit when he heard another voice among the barren lands.

It was her again. Sly stiffened. He... did not know what to do really, and he just remained where he was. Like a bolt, memories of their last encounter struck him. He yelled at her, mindlessly tossing away his emotions. It felt good, having to get off his chest, but he was unsure what this female would be feeling right now. Then again, when he came to, in his sobered state, something about Mythryl's grave... changed.

Her birthdate was added. And date of death... it had a question mark in the end. That was also why his visit was so short. Something was amiss, and it was all pointing to this female being... Mythryl. Then again, it could be some obsessive female who somehow took a liking to him and attempting to replace what he had lost. But he was done doubting himself. He was done second guessing and standing still doing absolutely f*** all about it.

M-Mythryl? He said quietly.

Lexia snorted.

"Lexia." She corrected him easily, "My name, is Lexia." Goodness, this was going to be hard... the headache was already rearing its ugly head, striking at her mind.

You say that name, we all say Lexia- even I say Lexia. But, to you, you may consider they are both one and the same. Cursed, possessed? I don't know. Lexia sighed, raising a claw to rub her temples, the headache making itself known rather happily. Look, truly, I am not her. Truly, I'm not. But I have her memories- and she wouldn't appreciate me just allowing yourself to tear you apart. They were the words that she wanted to say, wanted to speak and let him know. Contrary to what she wanted, Lexia was unable to bring herself to even utter them. All she was able to do was just imply what she meant.

She looked to Sly, an unimpressed expression dancing through her eyes. "Why on earth would you think that I am her." Lexia accused, mainly to get rid of that headache that kept growing in her mind. "One thing I hate more than people wallowing in their own self pity, are people that really just think I am someone else." Her paw clenched, a snarl building in her throat, "I am Lexia. My history is different. I am not her. Similar. Maybe. But her. I am not. HER." Her voice lowered into a growl, lips pulling back into a more vicious snarl.

With an annoyed growl, she flicked her tail and turned her back to him. Her stomach growled quietly, despite having just eaten. Famished, yes, yes she was and her eyes were already scanning the grounds as she walked away. Maybe it'd be easier for her to speak to him if she wasn't so hungry...

He knew it was too good to be true. Saying that name only made her scold him, after she had given her real name. Lexia. His heart somewhat sunk at that, but he was done wallowing in the past. He had plenty of reasons to think that she may somehow be linked to Mythryl, but he kept it to himself.

Sly could not recall her mentioning her name before. Could be the alcohol. It would only hurt his head more if he think about it any further. Wait! He called out, his voice echoing out into the distant the fog that surrounded the dense swamp. Then how did you know her? He asked, though he expected not to receive a proper answer. If Lexia knew so much about Myth, she would have known how Myth was never really direct with some of her answers. It was probably going to be another puzzle.

He already tried guessing Lexia to be Mythryl, if she was not Mythryl, then how else could she have known so much about her? Asking Lexia how she knew Myth now was like trying to beg for another hint. But look at her. She did not seem to be in the right condition to talk. Sly quietly snarled at himself. If he were not too busy sulking, he would have noticed those slightly different expressions.

You... are not going to tell me... are you? Sly said, head turning to the side. Oh, and my apologies. I just thought that... because you are so convincing and all that I thought she... forget it. Sly growled at himself, grinding his tongue at the edges of his fangs. He was really ruining it...

Lexia turned, slamming her paw into the ground in front of him, her snarl returning.


Her hiss of pain came from her maw before she could finish the sentence. Paw raising to press against her head, she allowed a growl to come from her, burn marks showing on its heel. "Fine. You want me to forget it. Then fine- I won't bother even trying any more. Go back to wallowing in your pity, Sly. You're on your own. I refuse to come back and even try to help you." Lexia's maw glowed, the marks on her neck slowly glowing brighter as the flames danced in the back of her throat, begging for Lex to use them.

"I will forget it. I will walk away and I will not help you anymore. Just like you've asked. You'll fail her last puzzle, you won't figure it out and you will hate yourself even more for throwing away her final act for you." Her voice was laced in the fury that she felt, anger almost dripping from every scale. "I was willing to help. But no. I won't force it upon you if you're so determined to forget it. I don't need external help to force you to have those memories ripped from you!" Lexia stated, her body literally rippled with fury, turning away from him.

That's my last hint I can give you right now, you stubborn prick...

Doing her best not to summon her little spears, or turn around and burn that stupid NightWings face off, she continued to walk away from him. Nope. She was hungry from having only a deer to eat over the past week or so. Lex was going to go and find food before she spoke to him again. However, she wasn't going to chase him away if he decided to follow her. In fact, he might even earn points with her. Maybe. It depended on if he didn't mind her probably turning around and slapping him for his own stupidity.

He nearly jumped when she suddenly turned, her claw splashing against the mud in her rage. Look up. Again with that. And again she refused to be blunt with him. That was not just a puzzle. It was completely cryptic! He stepped back from her, keeping his distance when her marks glowed - something he never saw Mythryl had done, and a sore reminder that what was standing before him was not even her. Look up. It was her answer to every one of his questions. Even if he tried to push her, there was no point if all he could see was her pained expression.

And now she spoke about memories? Sly blinked, his eyes wandering to the side in thought. Like a sunrise, something in him sparked. Her sudden appearance before him... Her likeness... Her memories... the gravestone... and yet, she was not Mythryl. If that were the case, then...

Noticing her parting away, he slowly followed after her. A small smile on his snout when he peered into the cloudless skies above. Then back to her again. You remind me of someone I once knew. It was all he said. How she would take it next was up to her, hopefully it would pass on the meaning that he intended. He then looked to the air again, the sun basking its radiant warmth all over his back, through the gaps between the leaves.

Then, the sign was clear to him. It had been in front of him for who knows how long. A leaf crunched beneath his claw, and he looked down, the crumbled mess sticking to his soles. Above him, the green spades continued to dance in the wind, thousand glittering specks of sunlight shining over them, uncaring of the leaves that fell. He slowed his walk, staring almost in awe at how many there were, rustling... and moving on...

Lexia almost... almost unleashed her inferno hiding behind her fangs straight at Sly's face. Again, he did what she hated, a low growl coming from her. Wasn't she her own person? Wasn't she so strong, so confident? Why did she have to remind people of someone else- after all, she was honestly her own being. Her own dragon- why didn't anyone see that anymore. Since that darn incident, it was so hard for her to apparently by herself.

Why was that her fate?

Slamming her claws down hard enough to shake the earth itself, she turned to him, ignoring the flare of pain in her paw from the movement. They hadn't healed from tearing that collar free from that young dragon. "Listen. I am my own dragon. I am Lexia. I am. LEXIA!" Her voice rose into a shout, her teeth baring in his direction for a few moments. "Why don't you just bugger off now? Go to forgetting, go on. You don't want to be here. Go. Mope. Around." Lexia snapped, before quickening her pace, her direction taking her further towards the FireWing lands. Maybe that jerk would stop following her when she got there. Yes. She was beyond angry at that dragon and it took everything that she had not to turn around and claw his jaw from his face.

Lexia's stomach growled.

The paws stung.

Lexia's snarl twisted over her muzzle more, stalking away from him as her angry towards him increased, the air shimmering around her in several locations, awaiting the final command to bring her powers into existence. "I'm going to hunt. I've been giving everything I hunt to a famished young one. I'll hunt so then I won't be this eager to murder you from your rude, unkind and hurtful comments."

He was dragged back into reality the moment two heavy thuds rippled through the mud before him. Staring at it first, he was reminded of the scar he saw under one of them, which he partially winced when it came upon the filth below them. He was more startled with how she treated what he said, preferring to take the superficial meaning rather than what he was really intending. Then she stormed away, further from the Nightwing tribe and towards the border that separated them from the Firewings. If that border still existed at all.

Your paw, Sly called out, hoping it would make her stop. He brushed off the mud that clung to him when she slammed her claws into them far too close to him. It seems to be hurting. May I see it for a moment? He gave her a rather serious look, before moving slowly towards her, wallowing through the mud. Sly did notice a ring of distortion around her, in retaliation to her rage, but it did not intimidate him. If he had learned anything from those unfortunate events that plagued his history, it was that it forced him to harden up in any situation. His memory amidst his sorrow was rather foggy, but he was hoping for her sake that it was a burn. If it were a cut, and she exposed it to this swamp... she would collapse from a fever within minutes.

Let me give you something for it. Then will you let me help you with the hunt? He was well within her claw's striking range before he stopped, right beside and behind her. With his maw, he clutched the strap of his familiar knapsack, jerking his head up to flip the cover half-open, revealing to her that he only just have a number of small potions potted in vials, a collection of herbs in another pouch and a large pot of gold liquid sitting on bundles of bandages.