Daily artwork #417 // Pandora's box: Looking Out for the Small Things (Patreon)

Hey guys,

Today we got another hardcore angle! I've been really challenging myself and my abilities lately. Here you can actually finally feel how tall the thane is and I hope you'll appretiate this view :)

There is also, as always, a story written by Aksan for anyone who's interested in learning more about the art!

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The pressure on the hard ball of his foot was so delicate that he almost missed it, or mistook it for a piece of dirt. No, that would be unkind to Celestia. The Tower took a deep breath and released his tense fists. Reaching down, his claws delicately collected the small, almost bead-like object. Bringing it up to his darkened eyes, he saw it for what it was; a tiny band in plain white metal. Keeping it safe, pressed between his middle finger and palm, he set out to find his eldest daughter, at least of the household.

Passing through the main courtyard, he saw the dozen perches, idly scanning their occupants for missing bands. Ducking back under cover, he gently tapped his knuckles on the wall to Mercephinion’s chambers, waiting for an invitation into the warm light that bled through the windows and arch. Getting one he slipped past the curtain and offered the tiny, metal band to its owner.

“Is that Stumble’s leg band?” she asked as she reached into his huge hand.

“I don’t know, you don’t put their names on them,” he said with a gentle chastisement to his pouting daughter, “At least if it was one of Makalianamphatine’s then I’d know already.”

“I know what they are all called and people know where to bring them back to,” Mercy protested, “Why do strangers need to know all their names?”

“Because it helps keep track of them?” he grumbled and paused, “Or do you just not want anyone to know you’ve a Fantail called ‘Lady Fancybutt’?”

“It works for me!” she squawked with a little hint of flame that the present pigeons were all too comfortable with. “You’re tense tonight,” Mercy observed, deciding to fix the issue by being picked up.

“There were more Sons of the Slaughter slogans being scrubbed off the city walls. I know I really need to stay out of it, and that just, it doesn’t matter . . . This is your solution to me being tense?” he grumbled as he picked her up, getting a soft headbutt as an answer.

“It always seemed to work,” she said with huge, innocent eyes, her smile persisting as his brows unknotted. “It does, doesn't it?”

“I always thought that ability was related to you being a tiny child,” he thought aloud, “Though, I guess the tiny bit hasn’t changed.” Innocent smiling turned to more indignant pouting. “Speaking of persistent ability, I presume the Lady cleared up at the show?”

“She got her senior rosette . . .”

“Does it have her name on it?”

“No . . . Maybe . . .” The young dragon broke and giggled. “It’s hidden in a drawer.” Idly tumbling the band in her fingers she sighed. “Stumble keeps slipping this off.”

“You could try putting it on the leg with the toes?”

“But all my birds have their bands on the left leg,” she dismissed the idea, “I guess I don’t need it so much anymore, he doesn’t go far.” With an insistent wiggle she had her father put her down, crossing the room to a little desk. Under his patient eye, she dropped the band into a small crucible that sat in an insulated cradle. It tinkled against other pieces of metal as she lifted the vessel to her lips and with a soft, focused kiss of heat, melted the contents. A tiny mould accepted the molten metal, her own miniature alloy ingot would be left there cooling overnight.

Celestia’s arrival was preceded by the idle burbling of their youngest child and so The Tower drew the curtain back before her arrival to let them in. “There you two are,” she declared with a subdued kind of energy. “I need to get to the community council and little Seph has decided to be talkative so she’s no longer coming with me.” As she spoke, she began to remove the sling that held the tiny, and admittedly, noisy hatchling to her.

“Please, tell me I’m not babysitting tonight, I wanted to paint,”

“No, I believe I am,” her father said with a smile. He shook his head at the offer of the sling and watched as little Seph was wrapped tightly in the handwoven fabric instead. “Anyway, why can’t you paint and babysit?”

“She keeps stealing all my metal collared brushes.”

“Yes, well, luckily for you, we’re at the sanctuary tonight, so your father is staying home,” Celestia stated as she popped the entire bundled hatchling into The Tower’s hand. “But I do need you to manage the ovens later. Just a little heat about five, take the core up to a bright red or we won’t be eating on time, and I don’t want to be worrying about that with guests.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Oh, and keep an eye out for Polly, she’s making a mischief of herself,” the Erfernum dragon said with a smile, notably lighter for the offloaded burdens. “And I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Of course,” The Tower knelt to meet his brow with his bond before she left, “Keep safe.”

Seph swayed gently to and fro, cradled by his looped tail, and leaving his hands free to count out the crockery. Her burbling became a happy cooing as he took the bundle of tableware through to the dining room, a journey full of long swoops and banked turns for the hatchling. As he applied himself to laying the table, his youngest found herself set down as a centrepiece, her small arms reaching up to the candelabra far above. It didn’t take long for her short reach to niggle at her mind and soon her flame breath was attempting that same reach, resulting in her shuffle down the table out of reach of lighting the candles.

Mercy’s arrival at one end of the room prompted his raised head and smile. “Your mother wanted you to–” he began reminding her.

“Literally what I’m doing,” she said in a long-suffering voice. Her father might have taken more offence had he not seen the rainbow stripes that adorned her monochrome scales and Polly bouncing along behind her.

“Shiny!” called out the hatchling, threatening to roll her bundle over as she reached for the stack of sparkling cutlery.

“Yes they are, but I need those for . . .” he considered for a moment and then handed the child the fork from his setting. “Have a shiny to play with.”

Almost as soon as he had handed the four-tined toy over he found himself reaching for it, drawing the points back from the child’s nose and slowly beginning to pry it from her hands. In the end, it was only the offer of the much safer spoon that ended things amicably.

“Thank you, my dear Mercephinion,” he called without looking as she passed back through.

“You know mum wants you to start using our short names,” she took her turn to chastise, “That way you don’t have to start calling us all to dinner before cooking begins.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not joining us for dinner tonight then or I’d already be too late,” he rebuked as he set the penultimate piece of silverware down.

No response came as his eldest had already left down the corridor. With a heavy sigh, the sire set himself to the next difficult task, regaining the spoon from Seph.

“Okay, little Sepharina,” he said at little more than a whisper, but quietening her nonetheless. “What can I give you to replace the spoon?” He shook his head gently as he took her in one hand again. “I should never have got myself into this situation, but here we are. How about . . .” His blackened glowing eyes scoured the room and settled on the splints of wood on the mantelpiece. “We set fire to something?”

Delighted, the hatchling would have clapped, instead swinging the spoon about as she thumped her chubby hands together. Soon, the spoon was traded for a splint, and with a little tickle under the chin, she was encouraged to light it. With a sudden worried glance at the handwoven fabric and the flame growing nearer to it, The Tower took the splint and with it began to light all the candles in the room.

It was as he was doing this he became aware of the small hands beginning to climb up his leg. Soon, they were joined by feet and making their way up off the ground, climbing surprisingly well for a toddler. Without even a glance to Polly, he continued about his business, padding over now to meet his other half as she lurked in the archway to the corridor.

“Everything ready then?” she asked with a fidget of her nose left and right. Distracted for a moment by the young child now clambering over The Tower’s hip. She was followed, just beneath her so she didn’t notice, by the black-scaled tail ready to catch her should she fall.

“Aside from Pollisaila– . . . Aside from Polly being a mischief, it seems to be,” his free hand stroked his other half’s snow-scaled cheek and felt her press into the touch. “I’m sorry again that–”

“No, no, I know,” she said with a forced smile, “No point having dinner guests if they just spend their evening petrified.” They both felt a joke cross The Tower’s mind and be subdued. “Thank you for asking at least.”

“Of course,” he said, bringing his brow to hers, “And thank you for looking after the girls tonight.”

“Kind of prefer it, I’ll admit,” she mumbled as she took little Seph and held the hatchling against her heart. “All the same great food, but none of the standing on ceremony. I just . . .” The Shadow tried at the words a few times before she gave up and pushed them unspoken into her other half’s mind. ‘I just wish I got to be an adult more.’

“We’ll work on it.” he said aloud, getting a shallow nod before The Shadow turned and crossed the courtyard.

Celestia was the one to open the wide door to their guests, greeting them with gentle embraces. Beside her, The Tower already knew that it would be impractical at best, intimidating at worst to do the same. Kneeling and offering his right hand to the first of their guests he found just a finger squeezed softly by both of hers as they both smiled and inclined their heads. The other hand was offered to the second, taken by the guest’s own left, the right staying down by his side.

“Did you look that up?” the older man asked as they parted.

“I remembered, from when we met back in six-oh-nine for the opening of the new school,” The Tower assured as he stood.

“Back when I could still partly use it,” he mused to himself.

“Long before you even dreamed of being head of school.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” The professor smirked, the mischief fading as he looked around the high ceilings and huge furniture. “Will your many daughters be joining us for dinner tonight?”

“No, they’re being looked after by my other half,” The Tower explained with a reassuring tone, “We’re sparing you the chaotic experience of dining with twelve young girls.”

“Your eldest is nearly sixty isn’t she?”

“Young for a dragon.”

“Wait!” the older man declared, prompting a little sigh in his companion, “I thought Celestia was joining us for dinner.”

“I am,” she stated with a subtle frown and a glance to the Old Blood.

“A common mistake,” The Tower assured his guest, “Celestia is my bond, The Shadow is my other half.”

“And you would leave your–”

“Professors, please, come in proper,” Celestia cut across, seeing the huge dragon tense at the implications. “I’ll show you to the dining room, if my beloved might go and fetch the appetisers?” The offer of space came with apologetic eyes as her bond nodded and disappeared to the kitchens.