Interlude Sylverith & Lily

Sylverith had been napping for several centuries now, or more. She had entrusted the protection of her forest to her favourite child, Lily. Young—perhaps a millennia or two—but she performed the role spectacularly.

So it came as quite a shock when the bloated oaf, Nemorax of the mountain, interrupted her slumber. He claimed they had conspired against him—accusing her of plotting to have his god revoke its blessing and abandon him. Honestly, it sounded like nonsense. And to attack her while she slept?

Unforgivable.

For over a week, they had been fighting. She wasn’t really trying to kill him… but the same couldn’t be said for Lily. Every time Nemorax even approached the trees, Lily was there—cutting him from below. For days, he was unable to land, forced to remain in the air, constantly engaged in battle.

He seemed weaker now. Perhaps lazier?

It was hard to tell. She hadn’t interacted with him in so long—they had still been whelps back then. But she remembered vividly when he received his blessing, the divine powers that came with it… how he tried to lord it over the others.

He was ignored.

Sylverith had no interest in becoming the tool of some higher being. She was proud. She was dragon.

And now, she was done humouring his tantrum.

As Nemorax came in for yet another attack on her lair, she laid an ambush—coordinating with Lily. As he swooped in, Sylverith dove from the clouds, crashing onto his back, her claws sinking into his wings and driving him into the ground.

He was not flexible enough to defend himself. His pathetic lightning—now lacking the power of divinity—was of no use.

The moment he came within range, the forest itself responded. Lily’s shadows rose up, engulfing him, slicing him again and again. Desperate to escape, Nemorax managed to shake her from his back. But as he tried to take off again, Sylverith got a perfect grip on his tail with her teeth—tearing him back down and ripping off half of it in the process.

That seemed to be enough.

Lily moved in again, carving at every exposed weak spot. Nemorax let out an almighty roar—before lifting off again. Hovering.

She thought, for a brief moment, he might find the courage to see this through.

Instead, bleeding profusely, he gave one final roar—pathetic, this time—and turned north, fleeing into the sky.

Lily appeared beside her, sitting neatly on the forest floor and licking her paw.

“Is that it?” Lily asked.

They had long since developed a method of communication. Using the mental talents she had honed ages ago, Sylverith could speak directly to the minds of other creatures—something she found rather useful at times.

“I believe so. He’s badly injured, and another engagement would risk his death. I suspect we won’t see him again for a few centuries at least,” Sylverith said.

Nemorax was many things, but brave was not one of them. It was why she believed he had sought a patron god in the first place.

“What are you doing with the tail?” Lily asked, eyeing it as it lay discarded on the ground.

“I was going to let it feed the soil,” Sylverith replied, glancing at the stumpy thing.

“You could eat it. It’d make a nice snack,” Lily suggested.

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“You’ve never liked dragon-kin before. What’s changed?” she asked, curious.

“Found a human child. Makes it taste good,” Lily answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

That response made Sylverith stare, stunned. Lily… hated humans.

“What do you mean you ‘found a human child’?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at the little shadow cat.

“Don’t know. Haven’t worked it out yet. Was drawn to him. Don’t want to kill him. But every time I show up, he makes nice snacks,” Lily said cheerily, as if it all made perfect sense.

This was a very unexpected turn of events.

“And this child—where are they now?” she asked.

Lily’s ears twitched. She turned her head southwest.

“That way. That’s the other strange part. I can always sense him.”

“And you had him cook… dragon?” Sylverith asked, genuinely shocked.