Emberflame Ridge dragon house

They scarcely spoke, the pair of them. Marina was left to her silent remembering — in dreams or waking moments, it made no difference. After a time she'd recalled her name, which she'd spoken to him one evening over the meal he'd brought for them. Marina Sea-Snake.

It was odd to recall; she often had the sense that she'd left that name behind some time ago. Now it was all she had. That and the occasional aching glimpses of loves lost. Children, so many of them. A frost-furred man. A woman with sparkling purple eyes.

These things, she'd decided, were best left in the past. Marina had no hope to reclaim any of it. Instead she looked to the present: this strange man; her fractured reality; the long road ahead. These things were tangible to her now, though she didn't know where the man would lead her.

She wasn't quite sure he knew, either. Nonetheless she obliged him, as she often did, dark ocean eyes following him faithfully.

Is this it, then? Not the first time she'd asked, nor the last.