Friendship in the Far South

"Oh, no. That would have been tasteless, and Legrane would never have allowed that. He was almost chewing on his scales with worry after you didn't come back that first evening... No, we couldn't bet that you would die, so we made bets about how you would live through the storm. Drend and Garilasor were betting that you'd managed to make it to Outpost 8, while Crattevin and a few others bet that you'd somehow flown all the way to Outpost 16, you fast, crazy scout you. My guess was that you'd stayed at Outpost 20, but somehow insulated a tent to survive. Constructing a snow dome as shelter? No one thought of that one."

Harkwin tried to shake his head. "It wasn't me. Wasn't my idea. It was hers..." he said, glancing over to Nacen, who the medics were now strapping into an adjacent stretcher. Nacen was wrapped in a a shiny insulating blanket as well, being prepared for a flight just like he was.

As Harkwin was looking over, he saw Nacen's eyes flutter open for a moment, and that sight made a huge surge of relief flood through him—she was alive! Nacen blinked her eyes open just long enough to make brief eye contact with him, and they shared that moment of mutual relief. There was a bond between them, forged in an icy hell and under the threat of death, faced together and survived together.

Harkwin wanted to speak with her, but his voice was too weak for a yell. Silently he mouthed the words, "we made it". Nacen's crest fin barely twitched, but her head shifted in the tiniest of acknowledging nods.

They'd made it. They'd both made it through the storm.

"Alright, all ready! Keep a close formation, and let's have things coordinated and stable," Legrane ordered. "Let's get our people back to base."

Harkwin could feel the air moving around him as the other scouts began channelling their air affinities, stabilizing the winds for takeoff. His own magic felt quiet and faint, so all he could do was lie still as the other dragons ran forward, pulling the stretcher along the ice until they took to the air, carrying him aloft in a sudden jerk. A grid of ropes connected the dragons by their flight harnesses, balancing the weight as they lifted Harkwin upwards. A short distance away he could see another team carrying Nacen in her own stretcher, flying adjacent in their own formation.

The sun was as bright as it ever got in the far south, but the sky was now clear and blue once more, with little trace of the storm or the deadly cold that had come with it. Glancing down, Harkwin spared one last look around at the summit crater. The snowy landscape had been reshaped by the blizzard—there were areas where snow and ice had built up thick, but there were also areas where the concentrated winds had blasted away existing layers of snow, exposing grey rock which would eventually be covered by further, gentler snowfall.

The hot springs looked different; ice covered many of those pools of mineral-filled water, but already some of the larger springs were once again bubbling and pouring up clouds of vapour, with their ice melting away back to the rim of the spring. With the storm gone, the temperature had increased back to those frosty but relatively warm temperatures—the ice topping the hot springs would soon melt and the water would once again come forth.

The partially broken down remnants of their snow shelter were visible, along with that one hot spring, the sleeping bags, and the messy pile of supplies and equipment that had kept them alive. Eventually the close presence of the hot spring would fully melt the snow shelter, leaving no trace at all of the makeshift structure which had saved their lives.

And over at Outpost 20 itself, there was no sign of the orange tents which had once been there. A thick layer of snow covered the ground, but there were paw prints and dig marks in the snow there. Harkwin guessed that the rescue team had first tried to dig or melt their way through the snow to uncover the tents, only to discover that the tents and the whole outpost had been torn apart by the wind and the hail. Then they'd seen the snow shelter and refocused their efforts there, and now the rescue was done.

Closing his eyes, Harkwin rested his head against the stretcher, feeling the gentle swaying of the wind as he was carried back home.

They'd made it. They'd both made it through the storm.

---

Epilogue

The infirmary of Central Camp was one of the few areas that was continuously kept at a truly warm temperature. Some areas like the storerooms were left completely unheated, but even for most of the other interior areas there were heated, the temperature was held at slightly above freezing point. Given that every expedition dragon had frost affinity, these intermediate temperatures were adequately comfortable for daily operation in most of these areas. Even the living quarters were left at just above freezing, with the beds kept warm with blankets and a few additional heaters placed around the rooms.

The infirmary was one of the exceptions. For the sake of maintaining health, the temperature was high enough that even a dragon without any frost magic could be comfortable, despite the deep cold of the far south. Ten beds filled the infirmary in two rows, and on one of these beds was a yellow-beige scaled dragon, resting comfortably and curled up into a ball.

The room was so delightfully warm that Nacen almost didn't ever want to leave. At some point, boredom and responsibility would surely drive her to return back to her researcher work; but after having nearly frozen to death, she felt like she'd earned at least a few days spent lazing about on a warm bed, imitating a baked potato as she wrapped herself up in cosy blankets.

As Nacen roused from her latest nap, she yawned lazily and stretched. Raising her head, the first thing she glanced at was the adjacent bed... which had several messy blankets, but was empty. Nacen raised an eye ridge—where had Harkwin gone?

Unfortunately, her wakeup didn't go unnoticed, and the medic on duty in the infirmary trotted over and sat down next to the bed. "Good evening, Nacen. It's time for your evening dose of medicine," she said.

Nacen squinted suspiciously at the medic, and she cleared her throat. "Ahk. Already?"

"Indeed. It's about an hour before dinner time, so we're right on schedule for your evening test and dose." Despite being a fully trained doctor, the medic didn't look that much older than Nacen. Then again, Nacen supposed, it would make sense that it was a younger doctor who would be more inclined to leave the City of Wing's medical centre and join a risky pioneering expedition. "Ready for your affinity response test?" asked the medic.

Nacen didn't like the test. She pretended to pout. "Do I have to do the test? What if I just say that I'm feeling better?"

A faint grin crossed the medic's snout, and she flipped open one of the pouches on her flight harness. "You still need to be tested. Otherwise I'll have to assume that you aren't recovering properly, and give you a bigger dose of medicine."

Much as Nacen disliked the test, she disliked the taste of the medicine even more. The medicine was supposedly very important, but it came in a viscous, unpleasant green liquid which was so bitter that Nacen would genuinely have believed it if the medic had said they were just having her drink an industrial antifreeze. "Is there no variant of that medicine that doesn't taste awful?"

"There's an injectable form if you'd prefer it that way."

"No that's even worse. Needles are—aahkk... ahkk!" Nacen's speech was interrupted by a bout of coughing, which all but proved that she wasn't yet fully recovered. She covered her mouth with a wing, but her phlegmy coughing continued for a few more seconds as throat seized painfully and her diagram spasmed. When Nacen finally recovered, she reluctantly unwrapped herself from all her blankets and held a forelimb out towards the medic. "Ahk. Ahem. Fine, fine. Do what you must..."

"So just the usual then. I'll run the test first." Taking Nacen's outstretched foreleg, the medic strapped on a small device which looked somewhat like an interlocking metal bracelet. "As usual, just try to keep still for as long as you can."

Nacen stared at the bracelet as it sat around her wrist. The surface of the device felt cool to the touch, but quickly it started to get colder and colder. As they were waiting, the medic put a stethoscope into one ear and slid the other end over Nacen's chest, listening to her breathing.

Nacen tried to keep still for as long as she could. The cold sensation from the bracelet was barely noticeable at first, then it became discomforting, then painfully sharp, then unbearable. "Ouch. That's... ow! Ok, stop!" She paused to cough. "Ahk, ahkm. Take it off."

The medic smoothly unstrapped the bracelet and checked it. "Hmm. Not a good reading... Your frost magic still isn't recovered yet."

Using her other paw, Nacen rubbed at her wrist were the bracelet had been touching. It wasn't just an imaginary sensation—her scales there were physically, noticeably colder than before, though not actually cold enough to be damaged. The test was quite simple—the bracelet had been charged with frost magic and it was meant to measure a dragon's tolerance to cold temperatures. Frost affinity dragons were supposed to have much better resistance to cold, meaning they could wear it for longer compared to dragons without the affinity. However, disease, acute overuse of magic, or certain medical conditions could temporarily restrict a dragon's ability to use their own magic, which meant that (as a result of nearly dying of hypothermia) Nacen wasn't as cold-resistant as she usually ought to be.

The solution to this was straightforward—bedrest, time, and horrid-tasting medicine. Nacen watched with resigned trepidation as the medic took a tiny glass and filled it with tincture from a glass bottle, right up to the designated line. Without saying anything, Nacen took the medicine-filled glass and gulped down all the liquid as fast as she could. The bitter taste made her wince and stick out her tongue, but the tincture immediately soothed her throat and made her insides feel slightly warmer.

"Well done!" declared that medic cheerfully. She sealed the medicine bottle, and then passed over a water packet for Nacen to drink from and to wash the taste of the medicine off her tongue. As Nacen was gulping down the water thirstily, the medic smoothly returned her stethoscope and bracelet back to her flight harness. "You should be feeling better soon. Your lungs sound much healthier, even if you're still having a cough. We should also start to see your frost magic recover again soon."

Nacen nodded. She used a hindpaw to scratch at an itch on her left side, where there was a bandage to cover up a spot of frostbitten scales. "So... nothing permanent from the storm, right?"

The medic shook her head and gave a kind, friendly smile. "No permanent damage. You need to keep taking medicine and resting so that your cough doesn't get worse again, but overall I'd say you should make a full recovery! You're lucky that the storm was over quick and the rescue team found you fast. A few more hours and you might have had the tip of your tail frozen off... or your paws amputated... or your wing membranes trimmed from frostbite... or worse."

"It could have been worse," Nacen agreed.

"Indeed." Reaching into a different pouch on her flight harness, the medic took out a sheet of paper. "Also, your blood test results are done. Most things appear to be within normal range. There is less magical trace than usual, but that's expected after your ordeal and it should return to standard soon. There's no sign of systemic infection, though immune response is slightly dampened. I make no promises, but I might be able to discharge you from the infirmary in one or two days; dependant on your cough getting better, and on your magic coming back at least partially."

"That's would be good," Nacen said.

"Indeed." The medic's gaze quickly swept down the sheet of paper, reading the numerous small numbers and lines of text. "Hmm. How curious. Some of your hormone levels are... unusual."

"Oh?" Nacen prompted.

"It's probably nothing." The medic frowned, but she shook her head. "If you do get discharged, I'll still have you on light duties for a while. And I'll have your posting locked to Central Camp for at least a week or two; just in case you need more treatment, or more tests of any sort."

"Sounds good. I'm in no rush to head back out to Outpost 20. No rush at all!" Nacen agreed. She gestured towards the adjacent bed—there were ten beds in the infirmary, but right now it was only her and the medic here. "Speaking of that—where'd Harkwin go? Did you discharge him already?"

The medic shook her head. "He's not discharged either, but he was fidgeting and bored so I let him out of the infirmary to take a walk around. That was about half an hour ago; you were fast asleep."

"Harkwin's magic is good enough for him to walk about outside?" Nacen asked, surprised.

"He's more recovered than you, but not fully. I let him go over to one of the greenhouses—it's warm there, and it's just over in the adjacent building," explained the medic.

Nacen sat up, and she pushed off her blankets. After having spent her last few days confined to the infirmary, some freedom to move about sounded enticing. "Can I go for a walk?"

"Sure. Do you need me to follow you?"

"No, no, that's not necessary! I'm not going to just collapse at any moment," Nacen assured her.

"Fair enough." The medic pointed out the doorway. "The greenhouse is down that tunnel, just at the first staircase heading upstairs. Don't rush. And if you feel short of breath or tired, call for help. There ought to be greenery workers in the greenhouse tending to the plants, just in case you need any help."

"Alright then." Nacen slid out of bed and shook herself all over, dislodging a few of her loose scale plates. "I'll take it easy, don't worry."

"See that you do. Stay in the greenhouse where it's warm." The medic gave Nacen a look that was just a bit too knowing. "And when you find Harkwin, you two should not be exerting yourselves. Got it?"

Nacen nodded meekly, and she silently wondered if the privacy curtains which were pulled around each infirmary bed at night weren't actually as private as she (and Harkwin) had assumed. "I just want to take a walk. I'll be back soon for dinner."

The medic nodded. "Fresh air is good for your health, as is exercise, and friendship."

---

Nacen went along the underground tunnel, but climbing the stairs up to the greenhouse was more of a challenge than she'd anticipated. She had never been the most fitness or exercise obsessed sort of drakken, but she'd always at least been at least reasonably in shape—enough to fly easily, and enough to be considered slender (or sometimes a bit too slender)—yet now she found herself panting for breath, after just climbing up the stairwell back to ground level. She couldn't have gotten fatter, but clearly she was still weakened from the stormy ordeal, which made climbing stairs a challenge.

Stepping out of the tunnel and into the greenhouse, Nacen sat back on her hinds and caught her breath. All around her was a large, enclosed structure made from panels of clear glass supported by metal struts. The greenhouse was filled with green. Plants were everywhere, filling up most of the internal space—rows of berry-filled bushes in pots, sections with countless creeper vines clinging to trellises, and even an area where a selection of small (but productive) fruit trees had been planted right into the soil at ground level. The air here was just as warm as the infirmary had been, but it was also much more humid. Things smelled fresh and alive, and Nacen inhaled deeply.

There were other dragons in the greenhouse as well. Greenery workers were maintaining the plants, spreading fertilizer, or even using water magic to keep the soil moist. But there were also other dragons who weren't at work. The greenhouses were more than just the food sources of the expedition—they were also a place where expedition members could come to just enjoy the greenery and the warmth, and to relax during their free time. There were several clearly demarcated tiled paths which led through the building, intended to allow visitors to stroll through the greenhouse without disturbing the plants or the greenery workers.

One particular dragon caught Nacen's eye, and she got back up to her feet and walked over. Harkwin was standing by the side of the greenhouse—the grey-scaled drake was staring dramatically out through the glass walls, watching the snowflakes gently tumble down from above. Nacen couldn't help but grin as she came up beside Harkwin. Something about seeing him just made her hearts beat a bit faster, and her attraction to him almost felt like it was manifesting as an actual physical tug pulling her towards him.

Harkwin turned his head, and he smiled when he saw her. "Oh, hello. You finally woke up from your nap."

"Yep. It was a pleasant nap." Nacen sat down right next to Harkwin. "The medic told me that you'd come up here for a walk, so I thought that I'd join you."

Harkwin said nothing and he resumed staring out the glass walls, but then after a moment he moved his tail and entwined its tip with Nacen's, which made her crest fin perk up from happiness. The two dragons stared out of the greenhouse, watching the slow fall of snow that was gradually covering the landscape in a thicker layer of white. The walls of the greenhouse cast slightly distorted reflections because there were actually multiple layers of glass to provide better insulation.

"So... Are you feeling better?" Harkwin asked, after they'd enjoyed several moments of relaxed, shared silence.

"Better, yes. I've still got a bit of a cough, but other than that I'm feeling much better." Nacen cleared her throat, which was a wet, phlegmy, faintly disgusting sound. "We actually probably shouldn't be sitting so close together. I don't want you to catch my cough."

Harkwin grunted, and he casually unfurled a wing and wrapped it around her back to pull her close. "Pah. Stop me then..." he murmured, and Nacen laughed.

"I guess if my cough was contagious, we've already done other things which were far less hygienic than just sitting together," she replied.

"Mm. You know it!" Harkwin nuzzled affectionately against Nacen's snout, but then he had to pull back and furl his wing up again as several other dragons came walking over towards this side of the greenhouse. Relationships and affection weren't technically prohibited by expedition regulations, but it could make their work more complicated; and regardless, there were some acts which deserved privacy and intimacy, not public exhibition. Nacen did keep her tail entwined around Harkwin's, though—that was at least a more subtle act then a hug or a kiss.

"And what about you? Are you feeling better?" Nacen asked.

"I'm normal! I feel like I'm well enough to resume my duties already. The medics say I should be able to resume flights within a few days," Harkwin replied.

"Already? You're going to rush back into flying to the outposts already?"

Harkwin nodded towards the outside. "It's been too long since I've flown. I'm just itching to feel the air under my wings! And besides, I'm a scout. If I don't fly, I'm not helping the expedition. It's my duty to fly, keeping all those outposts in communication with Central Camp here."

"Hmmrr..." Nacen let out a quiet, purring rumble from the back of her throat. Harkwin's dedication and his enthusiasm for the expedition were admirable, and hearing him talk like that stirred a tinge of hope in her mind. It was also nice to hear him talk about flying. Harkwin had such nice, muscular wings, good for flying, and even better for hugging...