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Avetlarinyarenesaar... Is currently trying to force herself to walk another few steps. She hasn't managed it, yet. Her reason for stopping was perfectly ordinary - check the address, make sure it was correct, be sure she was in the right place. She'd been quite sure, but there wasn't any downside to double checking, so she double checked. And triple checked. She stopped herself from quadruple checking, but she wanted to anyway. To - be sure that she was right. Yes. Not because she was procrastinating, or nervous, or thinking what am I going to say? She wanted to be sure that she was right.
Well. She's right. She checked three times, there's no doubt to it.
"Look," she mutters to herself, "I get it, it's scary, but deal. You are not allowed to - to -" To what? Go home? Maybe try to work up the courage later? Maybe try and avoid the shren house like so many other dragons?
It was a door. It's idiotic to be afraid of a door. Sure, there were shrens on the other side of it, but there could conceivably be shrens on the other side of lots of doors, some of them were in hiding, hair dye existed. Subtle colors existed. She could have been near shrens any number of times.
That - did not actually make her fear go away. Instead it makes her want to curl up in her little apartment and not go outside again.
Great. Okay. Stop that train of thought, it's not useful. If she stands here any longer, people are going to stare. (Is that person over there staring? Probably. Damn.) Just - door. Go. Walk.
She forces herself to walk to the door, somewhat stiffly. And then she is at the door. ... Does she knock? Does she just open it and go in? She has no idea. It's customary to knock, so... She takes a deep breath and does so. Resisting the urge to flee and teleport away (or scamper into the bushes) isn't easy, but she manages it.
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"We don't get information on home shrens and don't necessarily hear how many have died once they leave houses, but I know how many are in houses right now and can extrapolate the rest."
"Okay, if you could get me those records without freezing up the minute you hear the word shren and getting testy and unhelpful with me for stupid reasons when I am trying to save uncounted babies from death before they're a month old, that would be great." Pause. "... Sorry, not directed at you."
"I gathered. If I froze up when I heard the word 'shren' I would be unqualified for my job," snorts Jensal. She lets Avet in and leads her to an office that appears to suffer from chronic paperwork and starts flipping through some of same.
"Yes, that is specifically why I'm here," says Avet, dry. She waits.
"... I don't know if Ehail's told you, but we've made progress."
"... I don't know if Ehail's told you, but we've made progress."
"She hasn't been reporting to me. She lives at the Petar house; if she's been reporting to anyone it's probably Ludei."
"Oh. Well. Do you want an explanation? It's somewhat incomplete, but it's more of an explanation than there was before."
"I'm not academically interested in the subject. Do you have results?" asks Jensal, pulling a file.
"If I'm correct there is a spell that can accurately predict whether a baby dragon is going to die or not. Aside from that, no."
"I'm not sure how many parents would perceive that as a blessing," she remarks. Flip flip. "Extrapolating from house populations there are something like ten thousand total shrens in the world. More likely to be an overcount than an undercount."
"Some might. Some might be smart enough to time their attempts to have children until after another dragon dies. Some -" She freezes.
She looks at Jensal.
"Oh fuck."
She looks at Jensal.
"Oh fuck."
Jensal puts the file away. "What?"
"The - I suspect that there is a limited amount of dragon magic. The population is not stable because babies die, babies die because the population is kept stable by an outside source. That is, the amount of dragon magic. There is only so much that can go around, apparently, everyone who doesn't get it dies, and anyone who barely gets enough is a shren. Shrens have dragon magic."
Avet looks very horrified by the implications.
Avet looks very horrified by the implications.
"Are you anticipating dragons getting close enough to our houses to murder us all, or are you just very sensitive to the prospect of egg destruction? We don't even know how many dragons destroy their shren eggs."
Avet winces.
"I. Don't know. I don't know what I'm anticipating. I don't want you to be murdered, and I don't want shren eggs to be destroyed before they hatch. I don't like the, the - there will be a lot more dragons working to kill shrens, I think. I don't like the extrapolated social and murdery results. If it gets out."
"I. Don't know. I don't know what I'm anticipating. I don't want you to be murdered, and I don't want shren eggs to be destroyed before they hatch. I don't like the, the - there will be a lot more dragons working to kill shrens, I think. I don't like the extrapolated social and murdery results. If it gets out."
"So, infant mortality's better?" wonders Jensal neutrally.
"I. No?! It's not better, it's awful, I want it to stop! But I will not - shrens deserve to live. They should not die because they are inconvenient or so another baby dragon could live, everyone should live. No, no - if you play the pick and choose game, where does it end? Kill your neighbor so your babies don't die, sneak into your cousin's home and smash their eggs so yours will have a chance - no. No! It isn't better, but I refuse to start playing this horrific, sick game of, of, 'it is better for a shren to die for the sake of a baby dragon,' I refuse to say that one baby dragon can live over another, I refuse to say this is the way things are and let them die, before any of them are even hatched, or before they're a month old. No. I will find something better."
Jensal listens to this impassioned speech... impassively.
Avet huffs, and buries her face in her hands.
"On a separate note, I am kind of disappointed in my entire species as a whole right now."
"On a separate note, I am kind of disappointed in my entire species as a whole right now."
"I'm familiar with the sensation."
"Anyway. I have no reason to tell anyone, and perhaps more relevantly no one to tell. My crystal to the dragon council is for rogue shren reports only."
"Mm. I - the dragon genealogist I talked to might be able to extrapolate," she sighs. "But considering how she froze up the minute I asked a question that involved shrens, I don't think she'll come to the correct conclusion on her own. I'll check. I - don't know, I might lie about it, if anyone asks, I am actually likely the expert on the subject now. And they will expect me to dutifully tell them everything because they know best."
"Checking with the genealogist might give her the idea if she doesn't already have it," points out Jensal.
"Yeah. And I mentioned to several people that I thought dragon magic was the cause of it." She sighs. She contemplates the ceiling. "Right. So. I have a limited amount of time until the other dragons figure out the problem. Goodie."
"Do you need anything from me?"