This scene is for the new Dragons. It happens sometime after the events in [Falling Man]Dragons Lair. Come, visit the Academy... Jokor @Billy Luna Beej
Today had been a good day.
Business had boomed, however briefly, and orders and consignments had flowed through the business like water. Or wine. The compound was in a little disarray, with crates and boxes laid out in every conceivable space, prepped and ready for shipping (or carting off, as the case may be). The staff - sailors, cossacks and tartars all - emitted a certain pride for their labours.
Grand Wyrm Polikarpov sensed this, as he sensed many things. On this night, safely ensconced within his House, the Lord was dressed in his favoured red robes with his long hair loose about his shoulders. He watched at the window, observing one last cartload disappear down the street. The wagon was old and chunky (and Polikarpov noted with disapproval how the rear axle was still not quite right.) He would raise this later - when the sailors and the tartar returned.
The Grand Wyrm was waiting. Waiting for anything... anything to allow him to escape the Supplicant of the Void's monologue on the virtues of psychoanalysis and its importance in building towards his next Chrysalis. Paul, it seemed, was quite fond of Freud. Polikarpov nodded and murmured wordless encouragements. It was not his role to force his charges down any one path. Enlightenment had many paths. Some more interesting than others. Polikarpov allowed himself to wonder what paths the two new Slaves would travel in their own journeys of the mind, body, and soul.
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