Chapter 2: Xyebon

 ..... Drip… … …

The singular sound punctuated a series of subtle vibrations.

..... Drip… … …

The passing of a single bead of crystal clear water sliding down the stone drapery, falling a short distance, then sliding down the flowstone, to finally join a pristine puddle of predecessors; each bead had marked the passage of time since before the age of memory.

..... Drip… … …

The age of memory had in fact started with Xyebon’s attention being drawn by that sound, and in utter fascination following the beads downward, and then eagerly looking upward for the next bead.

Upon every waking, Xyebon recommitted the phenomenon of the drape, the flowstone, and the puddle to memory.

..... Drip… … …

Through the series of memories, Xyebon had realized that though they stayed the same they were ever changing. The drape had slowly grown downward stripe by stripe. The flowstone had slowly flowed up. What once started as a pristine puddle of beads was now a pristine pool stretching off into the distant darkness too far to see. She had learned to take comfort in the drape, the flowstone, and pool; for they grew as she did, persisting slowly into enormity.

..... Drip… ... …

Xyebon had become so distressed upon realizing she could no longer fit into the chamber she had learned sorrow. Sorrow stopped her from returning for a time.

Instead she had slept in the great blue cavern, witnessing countless beads of twinkling light race across the ceiling; chased by a radiant pool of yellow warmth. This had led to times of curiosity, discovery, amazement, consternation, and frustration.... mostly frustration, as her sleep was constantly being interrupted.

She returned to her now decorated cave. She had tried to match the splendor of the great cavern while allowing for the peaceful sleep she so desired. Blackened bits of bone and metal served as trophies of her greatest kills. Piles upon piles of small soft scales in copper, gold, platinum, and silver served to conceal her eggs. It was the beads of frozen color and balls of light that reminded of what she had lost and wished to see again. Carefully she looked in upon the drape, the flowstone, and the lake, and in so doing realized her long slender neck allowed her head to be rest inside chamber, she learned happiness.

Meticulously, she pushed the beads of frozen color and the balls of light to join the pristine pool. She learned to be content.

..... Drip… .. …

And again, upon the bead faltering in its path down the flowstone... distress. Anger.

..... Drip… .. …

Xyebon return to full consciousness appalled by the change.

In the long habit of recommitting the drape, the flowstone, and the pool to memory, she did so once again. Beads had been taken. The flowstone touched and irrevocably changed.

As she widened the area to the entirety of the cave, she discovered piles of soft scales taken, two of her eggs broken, several more missing, and finally the taste and smell of the audacious thief and killer…

Xyebon had finally learned of anger and rage.

And she knew where to unleash it.