¤ Vehya's story ¤

part 1: Quiet yearning

by Neishai

Vehya sat cross-legged and stretched her arms up over her head, long, whip-like tail slapping the floor behind her as it flexed. As she did so, she arched her back and leaned backward until her hands rested on the floor. Her tail slid beneath her and she pushed herself up until her unfolding legs passed up over her head in a sort of slow back flip. Then she stretched the rest of her body.

Yawning, she padded down the hall, the claws of her feet clicking with whisper-softness on the smooth stone floor. She felt…not quite hungry, but restless, which somehow translated into hunger. Her banner-like tail swished back and forth restively as she moved ever closer to the pantry.

Her home, which she shared with her parents, was a villa short on rooms but big on open space. Her father, a long, snakelike dragon, sometimes bordered on claustrophobic. Vehya understood the feeling, the craving for wide-open spaces for room to move and to explore without fear of being enclosed by walls, natural or otherwise.

Perhaps, she considered, if he had his way he would just sleep out in an open field, or perhaps just float in the middle of nowhere. Of course, she referred to his habit of levitating (and sometimes flying) while asleep.

But Vehya was much smaller than her father, closer to her mother Vera's size and shape (bipedal versus quadrupedal), and therefore required much less space. And her mother, well she was human and required such things as shelter, clothing, and the like. Vehya preferred those things as well.

And so they had found or built (or something -- she was not sure which) this villa, a one-storey but spacious little thing. It was made of stone and wood and other natural things, bordered on one side by a sheer cliff overlooking the sea and on the others gently sloping, lush, green grassland. The view was spectacular, awesome, and downright inspirational. Here was a place that they could all be content to remain for years and years, with no intrusions outside the occasional storm blown in from the ocean.

Vehya had been content, that is, until only recently. It had been a gradual change, but Vehya had felt it steadily grow inside of her until the present time. Her body could hardly contain an overwhelming sense of impatience that normally calming breathing exercises, stretching, and meditation all only just suppressed. It was as if some sort of thick mist had invaded her orifices and proceeded to pull her…away. She did not know where yet, other than that it directed her far away from home.

She passed her parents' room. It was more of a spacious hall, large enough for her father to move about freely, with windows up near the high ceilings, door that lead directly outside, as well as the one she now stood in.

She peeked inside, seeing the unmistakable shape of her father, curled up into a furry white coil of neck and body and tail, floating about three feet off the ground silhouetted by a wide beam of morning sunlight that fell on the stone floor several feet beyond. Illuminated dust motes danced about languidly. From out of the furry mass rose an arm, straightening vertically, sluggishly like a plant captured by stop-action stretching up toward the sun. The flower, her mother's hand, opened then waved at her.

Vehya blinked. "Are you two decent?"

"Haven't been a day in my life," replied a muffled but distinctly female voice.

A deep rumble issued forth then, and Omajinai, still chuckling, lifted his head to regard his daughter. "Yes, we are decent. We were awake to watch the sunrise but never bothered to rise ourselves." His furry, dog-like face grinned pleasantly.

Vera resituated herself, looking up toward the ceiling. Her black hair laying in disarray was a stark contrast from her bond and mate's white fur. The windows and skylights were such that they had a grand view from where they were. The view from Vehya's room was similarly beautiful.

"I see. I came by to ask if you would like some breakfast, since I was about to go make something."

There was a muffled, "Mmf! Let me help you then," followed by a grunt and a, "sorry, Hun," before Vera's bare feet finally touched the floor. The cold surface made her dance as she reached for a robe and slippers.

Vehya watched from the doorway in amusement. Omajinai glanced at her before uncoiling himself. He also landed, using the solidity of the floor to steady himself as he stretched his long body. By then Vera was done, and she approached Omaji, raised his head by cradling his chin in her hand, and kissed his nose. Then she came up to Vehya and followed her down the hall.

The furry dragon fondly watched them go before leaving through the door opposite. As he stepped outside, he wore a look of gravity. Some event hovered on the horizon that would change their current life, but he was not sure if it would be for the better.

¤ ¤ ¤

"Tell me again how you and Dad met."

They were in the brightly-lit kitchen which was set up like any human's kitchen with sink, refrigerator, dishwasher, and plenty of counter and cabinet space. All Vera's doing, of course.

She stuck her head out of the fridge and peered up at Vehya then backed out with an armload of food. As she set the food on the table, she had a small smile on her face. They set about preparing breakfast while Vera spoke.

"Well, as you know, he found me first, in a way. He went looking for me, in the form of a little fire-drake that I named Phoenix. I didn't realize at the time how ironic that name was…" She thoughtfully peeled an orange, popping a section into her mouth then set about starting some coffee, both old favorites from back home. "Phoenix was a living, breathing entity, capable of eating, and the flames all about him could burn anyone he chose to hurt. He never hurt me, but one time…"

She trailed off, looking down at her hands. Just visible below the sleeves of her robes were burn-scars in the shape of flames that went from her wrists all the way up her forearms. Her hand shook a little as she continued to finish setting up the coffee to brew.

Vehya saw the play of harsh memories across her mother's face, so she waited patiently. For her, these recollections were always fascinating. The stories were engaging, full of adventure and trial. Before Vehya stood a strong woman who had endured much.

Vera found herself unexpectedly reliving many of her memories in vivid detail. It had been nearly half a century to her reckoning, should they not fade with time? She found that they had merely been buried and forgotten. Once the dust had been wiped away, the photo album of her mind held scenes just as crisp and colorful as they had always been.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it still affected me this much. Phoenix was just an extension of your father's being, but recalling his death... Omaji hadn't hatched yet, so he sent Phoenix to guide the way, or at least to 'get the ball rolling.' Messel and I came with Jatan; strangely enough, it was his idea to come, and he was the only one who didn't find a bondmate, as far as I know."

"But you found each other before he was born, right? That's the point…you kind of knew each other before you actually met."

"Yeah, you could say that." Vera looked down at the coffeepot, which was almost finished percolating by then. Glancing up at Vehya she frowned. "Why do you ask, Reinou? Have you discovered something?"

"I think so…" Vehya grimaced; she did not look convinced.

"Ah!" The coffee was finished. Vera poured them a cup of coffee each, as well as one for Omajinai, for he was just entering the room in his humanoid form. Similar to Vehya's normal form, he retained many of his draconic features: a longish body, whip-like banner-tufted tail, floppy ears, and whitish fur. She handed him a cup with a one-armed embrace and a kiss. "Have fun?" she said, grinning.

"Thank you, Beloved. And yes I did."

"You see, I don't even have to call him; I start the coffee and he comes a-running." She winked at Vehya and poked Omajinai in the ribs. Not even bothering with a rebuttal, he took a sip of the coffee and leaned on the counter. He had to admit the confounded stuff was addictive, and strangely delightful… like his Vera.

"Reinou was just about to tell me something, maybe you'd like to hear?"

"Oh?" Omaji cocked an ear and glanced at his daughter, who nodded.

"She was asking about how we met," she said softly, blushing ever so slightly. "She wanted to know if we knew each other -- recognized each other -- before you had hatched."

He nodded. "Most certainly," he said, smiling warmly at Vera, before leaning down and kissing the top of her head. "Tell us about it, perhaps we can help."

Vehya nodded again, trying to put to words what she'd seen. It was difficult to do with her parents around. Their closeness, their affection for one another, was very distracting. It was also tied into what she had been feeling lately and besides, her father, despite being so young, was immensely intuitive if not downright wise. She took another deep breath, steeling herself. This was no time to let … jealousy … get in the way.

"Well…as you know, I've been a little…off lately. I've been battling something within myself that I have not been very forthright about. Not that I've been trying to hide it from you," she looked up at her parents with a look of utter sincerity, "but it was difficult to discuss before because I didn't even have a clue what was going on.

"I've been meditating on it a lot lately, and I think I am close to a solution, but I need the both of you to help me. I don't want to do something stupid on just a hunch."

Omaji and Vera nodded and listened intently while Vehya related her experiences so far.

¤ ¤ ¤