[Kyrit]

The Sunsword had plunged deep into the dragon’s scales one last time, flooding Friend’s mind with the elation it felt at being able to take down the fearsome foe. As its deaths cries echoed through the caverns though Friend could not share such joy. How could he? They had all seen the egg shell up in Argynvost’s study. The dragon had hatched here, growing up influenced by Barovia’s very nature and the horrors that the archive sought to contain. Sure, he’d been told to stay clear from any of the chromatic dragons, but this one hadn’t even been given a chance to know anything but the darkness.

[Kyrit]

It hadn’t even been given a name to their knowledge. It had no one to teach it to speak, no family to tell it right from wrong. There were just the Sorrowsworn, mimics, and eventually its own young to keep it company. And perhaps Razand, based on what Vala said the sealed lich had called himself and the presence of the fog during their fight. It behaved with little more than predatory instinct and yet even still, he had heard the wordless, mournful cries of the dragon as it found the first of its young struck down.

[Kyrit]

Killing the dragon did not feel good. He’d taken no joy in chasing down the beast as it tried to flee in terror, knowing it was moments from taking its final breath. There was no thrill for the hunt that the werewolves likely would have boasted. No pride as a knight of the Order of the Silver Dragon for reclaiming the archives. Anything but. He was left with a sadness that would be hard to explain if any were to press him about it. A sadness tied to a relationship he’d thought of too many times to count. And yet, as much as he didn’t want to, Friend had done exactly what he knew needed to be done.

[Kyrit]

It had hunted down almost the entirety of the werebear clan and the kobold servants of the archive, had already taken Vasili down twice, and had almost taken down Nemissa. It had tried to cut Vala off from the rest of the party to be picked apart by the young ones. The longer they stayed within the halls poking about and hoping there was a different way to handle things, all while knowing they had to just fight it, the more likely one of them would be taken down and wouldn’t be able to be brought back up. And at the time he had been the only one with even a sliver of a chance of catching up and preventing its escape.

[Kyrit]

As Friend stood alone, watching the life fade from their foe, he heard no sounds of footsteps, no voices calling out to indicate the others were on their way. Anyone would know from those cries that they did not have to hurry, they could take their time. Catch their breath, heal the wounded. And as they did he could take a moment and allow himself to feel bad while it was only the two of them. No longer would Barovia be able to make a mockery of the great beast and no longer would it taunt Yavis with the twisted visage of the man she loved.

[Kyrit]

Kneeling down, Friend gently placed a hand on the large skull that lay still on the cave floor before him just before every muscle in his body seized as the effects of the potion he had hastily taken wore off. Once he was able to move again he slowly stroked the scales while the light of the sunsword dimmed. Perhaps…. this would be part of the story he would leave out when he returned home.

[Crystal Synthesis Complete]