Glass, he thought at first. The creature that stood before him looked as delicate and fragile as a figurine made of glass. Yet no craftsman, no matter their skill level, could evoke the exquisite detail that existed in this tiny frame. His wings were wet and wrinkled like freshly washed silk. His hide, the purest white that Onesto had ever seen, shone beneath the soft torchlight of the cavern. The horns atop his head, see-through and faintly iridescent, looked like icicles plucked at their peak and fitted into a crown just suited to him.
No, not glass or ice. This creature lived up to his namesake; crystal.
~Well?~ Came a soft and somewhat irritated voice into his mind. A faint, ringing edge tucked behind the word, as if the dragonet's very being were carved of crystal as well.
"Oh, little one, no," Onesto said. It was all he could think to say as his throat closed up and his eyes blurred. He pressed one hand over his face. The other rested on the edge of his knees, subconsciously creating a barrier between the hatchling and the short fall to the ground from his lap.
~What do you mean no? You can't reject me,~ the dragonet, Anazinmalth as he'd introduced himself, answered. There was no accusation in his voice. Just a firm grasp of reality.
"I can't be the one you want. Look at me. I am old. I am stiff and tired from life already lived. And you, you are just starting out. You belong with someone who can give you the life you deserve."
Onesto did not mean the words as a joke, and so he was a little taken aback when the hatchling opened his mouth and released a barking laugh.
~That's not how this works.~ Anazinmalth said. ~You are mine. I knew you were mine the moment you first touched the sands. I knew you were mine when you walked away, high into the stands. Did you have to sit so high up, by the way? My legs are short. That was a long climb. I'm extra hungry now.~
"I can't-" Onesto began to protest again. He was cut short by a dismissive sound from the woman seated next to him.
Empress Naeodin flapped a hand in the air and fixed her cleric with a wry smile.
"Enough of that, Onesto. The dragon always knows its rider. Stop making excuses and get the poor thing fed," she said.
And there was something in the empress' smile, something in the way that it continued to hide in the corner of her mouth, that made Onesto think she'd had some hand in this. She'd brought him here, certainly, but she couldn't have known he would bond... Could she?
Onesto drew in a deep breath and held it. The air coiled in his lungs, quickly building up pressure against his ribs. He focused on the pain. It was easier than focusing on all the other pains that had assaulted him so recently. Shy's admission. The war. The council. The Death Court. Mia... Mia in that dress. Mia with those shoes. Mia with the broken expression. Mia closing the door.
Something gave way inside him. It was inevitable, but he thought he'd be able to weather it. Now, with a thousand sharp thoughts whirling through his mind and the warm, gentle, strong presence of the dragonet softening all the edges, his control slipped. Tears spilled from his eyes and he choked down a sob as he pulled Anazimalth against his chest.
For all the comfort he provided to others, he hadn't realized how much he'd been neglecting himself lately. Anazimalth made that clear, and then made that pain go away.
~There, there,~ his bond said over the chaos of his mind. ~We have a lot of work to do, but we'll do it together. You don't have to be strong for everyone, you know.~
"Ah, one of my great failings, as Maester Adon used to say," Onesto said between sniffles. He wiped the remaining tears from his eyes with the butt of his hand and smiled down at the white dragon in his lap. "I will ask once more and then I will be done. Are you certain it's me you want?"
~Yes,~ Anazimalth replied, and nothing more.
This was enough for Onesto. With a nod, he scooped the dragonet up in his arms and stood from his chair.
"Your Eminence," he said, turning to Naeodin, "I must take my new charge to be fed. Please remain here."
"Don't worry, Onesto. I'll look after her," said the Red Mage of the Warren. She sat next to the delegation from Vella Crean, golden eyes alight with mischief.
"And I'll make sure they stay out of trouble," High Prince Aaron, also of the Tris'Hathian delegation, muttered behind his wife's back. The faint smile tickling the corner of Mystic's mouth faltered, and Naeodin let out a cackle.
"Thank you, Your Graces," Onesto said, offering each of them an awkward bow. He didn't want to bend too far for fear of making Anazimalth sea sick with all the bobbing up and down.
Onesto slipped away from the viewing deck reserved for the leaders of the Nexus. Never in his youth would he have imagined ending up here, caring for and speaking to some of the most elevated people in all the Nexus. Then again, never would he have imagined reaching a place in his life where compassion, not anger, ruled his heart. Perhaps it had taken longer than he would have liked, but Anazimalth was right. Together they would do great things. Though it may have taken him a while to reach this point, Onesto realized that it had all lined up exactly as it was supposed to. The dragonless rider was dragonless no more.
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