Lene left the beach house and walked towards what used to be her son. Heart heavy with sadness she kept her mind looking forward to hope on the horizon.

Cal looked up at her and the burning rage to kill her loomed before his eyes. He growled heavily at her. Lene raised one hand at him.

"Sleep my son." She whispered.

Cal fell into a deep sleep. She walked up to him, placed a hand on his forehead then whispered a spell of teleportaion taking them both to the Shimmerscale lair to appeared 500 ft from the entry. Lene would wait to speak with either her aunt Icer or uncle Aurthur.

Lene wasn't aware of Aurthur's flight to meet them. She had taken to sitting on the grass by the slumbering Calcifer who dwarfed her in size. To Aurthur he'd see Calcifer, muzzled, and shackles on arms and legs; Lene was wearing splints on both of her wings as well as sitting stiffly from the bandaging around her ribs. Fur was singed off of her in some areas as if she got too close to an incenerating fire.

She looked up hearing Aurthurs voice. A hopeful smile touched her muzzle and blue eyes. She stroked Cal's head as he sleapt.

"Uncle Aurthur..." She bowed her head in respect then looked back up. "My family and I rescued those who were taken. Many injuries have happened to everyone. Something is wrong with Calcifer. The Knight's done something to him. He's twice the size he was and....he attacked me. Ever since we got him home he's been violent, feral even as if we are all prey to be hunted. I....I'm hoping you and aunt Icer can help me find some way to help him' I don't want to shackle my son like this, I'm sure it's scaring him something awful but he's too much of a danger at home."

She looked to Icer as she came to meet them. "I...don't want him bound Icer but....he's gone mad. He's a threat to all..." she rubbed Cal's forehead for a long moment.

"I can release him from the bindings if you both feel you can handle what he's become. I can't take shelter with you in your lair. I have duties that call to me when I am healed. I would rather Cal have shelter with you and his father that is here." another stroke to Cal's fore head and with a whispered word the shackles and muzzle fell off of him.

Cal slumbered on from the magical sleep and Lene leaned forward and rested her purple furred cheek against his blue furred and orange scaled cheek. "Shall I wake him?"

Nae, he needs the rest. It will help him in his recovery. A smile and nuzzle to her niece, then a careful nuzzle to her Grandson. Being careful not to wake him as he rested within her beloved's arms.

It will take some time, but he will recover, Lene.

After a few hours passed, he would wake where ever he was laid to rest. Thoughts of killing the female that put him to slumber had lost their grip from the soothing magical sleep. He could smell other dragons about him, saturating every part of the lair he was in.

Parts of certain scents registered to his mind as soothing, friendly. Others jabbed and tore at his more primal side to either escape or seek out and challenge. His shook his head back and forth confused.

A fragment of memory showing him wandering these lair as something small; a hint of ghostly sound of his mother and grandmother speaking on some nights. Something sickening within his mind and soul snatched the memories and tattered them from the present conscious.

Cal stood on all four legs and cast about the cavern he was in. He could feel magic about him. Magic he felt was familiar by touch, energy, sound and name if he could just remember something. A book maybe, a face, maybe a scent of someone close to him in those ways. His mind turned to how get here, so far from the sky and sun and his need to be free.

He let out a long, agonizing roar of torment as he found more and more questions, no answers and the need to rend, kill, eat and dominate mounted high in him. He moved for the caverns opening and stepped back, feeling a force repelling his exit. He roared in a tantrum of being denied anything, breathed fire breath upon the stones about him, slagging them into molten rock. Blasted ice breath that made the molten slag crackle, hiss and pop like breaking glass. He tore huges gashes into the cavern walls all for naught. He couldn't leave this cavern.

Ire and anger spent to a mild simmer he moved further back into what he would call his territory and curled up on the floor among the shattered shards of melted, frozen rock. Green and platinum eyes watched the entry to his little kingdom. Fire curled from his snout as he watched in silence, waiting for any living thing to dare step into his world.

He saw Aurthur appear near the entry, could smell the male dragon had the scent of being the patron of the lair. He rumbled in his chest, a normal thing for a canine to do when feeling a threat; housed with in that dragon chest it rumbled through the cavern like a living beast of its own free will. His instincts cried to him to stand, move and kill; his mind told him that he would fail against the force keeping him in.

Calcifer stood up on his four paws and began to pace the cavern floor, still rumbling a warning growl at the older male. He heard the words the other dragon spoke. Words, the funny sounds one could make with their breaths. Had he been able to speak before" Could he speak now" His mind snapped at the two questions, killing them quickly as he tried to speak.

"H...hu...hun....hungry. W...a...wa...water..." he said in a voice that proved to be powerful and deep if he lived to adult hood.

He kept pacing, the only outlet he could give to rage that was simmering no more, but a fast boil within him. He would loom closer to the entry and lurched away when he felt that push back. His tail lashed about the cavern like a snake striking prey. He flicked at charred remnants of rocks with his tail, hurlted them at the entry to watch the projectiles crash back to clack and clatter in his fire charred kingdom.

The other dragon was speaking some more and he stared right at Aurthur. Eyes shone with a fever, a milky sheen to his eyes covering the spark of intelligence he bore.

"W..ant....want....meat....bloody....meat." He couldn't seem to understand the rest of the words from the Dragon.

Calcifer did sit on his haunches a moment to puzzle the implication that he knew this male dragon. He tried very, very hard to think about it. After what seemed a decade of effort, he caught a slight glimmer, like a phantom smell one had when seeing a familiar object no longer there.

Food. Wyvern steaks just for him. Gramps was so awesome making sure he ate while getting lost in the Lair's library....

The memory fizzled and died as quick as it had come. It had offered something to him. Comfort, solace and completeness to some small part of him. Its withdralw, maddened him. Sent his rage to exploding. He roared loud and deafening, shaking the whole cavern he was in, causing small bits of debris to rain down. He took up a maddening pace around the cavern again. Taunted by what he wanted to feel again and robbed of it.

He tried to latch onto anything the memory had left. Words had lingered in his fevered mind; Lair's Library. Library. Why was that word familiar? It had a scent to it. Paper and dust mixed with ink and candlewax. Paper. Another word with a scent to it. Hands dirtied with living and the sweat of nervous creativity. His head was hammering in pain as he tried to chase the tail of what any of this meant.

Calcifer finally crumpled on the floor, roaring over, and just a long winded keening of an animal thoroughly confused and afraid.

Through his keening he heard Icer. That was a voice that seemed to slice into the fog a moment, returning clarity to his mind. For that moment he was Califer, son to Myrlene, and he could remember his grandparents, all of them. He lifted his head and gazed at Icer and Aurthur.

"G..rams and gramps?" He said in slow hesitation.

Something slitthered within his mind and stole the clarity from him.

You have no one but yourself. You are my dragon. My perfect little killer. A voice that sounded like the creepy man that had took him from the beach.

Calcifer shook his head to rid the voice but it was still there.

Look at the female dragon, you want her. You want to capture her. You want to kill the male. You want his lair and treasures. Rise, kill, sate you desires and needs.

Calcifer trembled hearing that voice in his head. He got up and backed further away from the caverns entrance, trembling and hunching in defense, wanting to lash out at this voice. His tail flicked rapidly, smashing into the walls and tearing out chunks of rock.

You can't run from me. I am here, with you. A new master to you. Now, kill them like you killed your uncle. Feel them writhe under your jaws like you felt the young child you killed. Taste blood again. Kill....kill....kill...

"N...no....no..." he roared. "I....didn't kill anyone....I didn't....shut up!" he bellowed to nothing.

The impulse to attack was rising higher in him and the feeble hold his fogged mind had on his body lost its grip. Calcifer charged the entrance of the cavern, aiming for the female dragon, jaws parted wide and flames sparking in his maw. He never reached Icer. The wards would flare as he slammed hard into them, something made a loud audible pop and Cal collapsed in pain. His whole body shook as he let out a long whine of discomfort. His left shoulder was dislocated from the impact.

Calcifer looked at the plate slid to him with the deer and wyvern steaks; he was so hungry but the shoulder hurt. Hunger though was a stronger motivator than pain was for keeping him sedate. Cal limped on three legs to the meat and began to eat it and drink a lot of water. His whole body shook from pain but the food was having a calming affect on him.

Laying on his belly he continued to eat and would slowly look to Icer and Aurthur. No growling, no hostile scent about him, his mind was fogged with pain and memory loss. Did he really know these dragons" Why were they not coming in to kill him while he was hurt' Would they eat him' As he ate more the seasonings of the meal sent chemical familiarity through his nerves and to his brain.

A glimmer of clarity came back.

"Grampa, do dragons eat each other like feral dogs will sometimes eat an injured pack member?"

"Such a thing is a barbaric notion, Calcifer. Dragons nae eat other dragons unless there is something very wrong with them. Now why don't you enjoy some wyvern steak instead and worry not about dragons eating dragons."

Cal finished the last steak and laid his head on the charred stones, keeping as much weight off of his shoulder as possible. That memory brought a warmth with it. A soothing warmth of being cared for and protected. Eyes drifted to Aurthur and settled on him for a long time.

Grandp Aurthur. Poppa's dad... The clarity faded once more and it was agonizing but he didn't move.

Cal did the only thing his mind, a mind still locked into the framework of a 6 year old could do. He wept and whined until he fell into a pained sleep.

As Aurthur was readying to tend to Cal's wounds, Lene and Moonshine had arrived at the Shimmerscale Lair and shown the way to their son's quarters. Lene was still recovering from her wounds but it seemed Moonshine was offering a bit of help to her as she walked. The two seemed a bit cooled towards each other as they visited.

"Hello Auntie. How....how is Calcifer doing"

Moonshine rested on his belly in the hallway and looked through the opening. "Any improvements so far" he asked worried.

Moonshine nodded and stood. "Let me help you with him father. He is my son and I can't think to let you get harmed alone." He stood by his father.

Lene took a seat by Icer and stroked her neck soothingly. She was being wise and sitting out of a situation that could maim her worse than the injuries from her last fight with Cal.

In time he will heal, Lene. Momma herself knew this, and remained settled beside her niece. Ice blue gaze turned to Moonshine and her mate a moment, as she continued to croon to their Grandchild.

At times her mate had seemed to get through. It is best we stay back, Lene.

But we will be ready lest they need the help.

*Aurthur moved in quickly, using his weight to help pin his grandson down so he couldn't thrash and cause himself or anyone else a more serious injury. He took hold of the shoulder, and with one firm movement, pushed the dislocated shoulder back into place with a sickening pop. Immediately, he began to apply the best healing magic he could use (which was barely above what the lowest acolyte could manage) to further speed the healing process.* Love, can you get a sleeping draft, and quickly' If he's sleeping, it'll heal, and he won't be able to injure it again.