Guide me to the Past

Oriana normally wouldn't accept a request for a visit unannounced from some random child. But she desperately wanted to get away from her council members' constant nagging. We must do this, we should do that, why aren't you more concerned with getting back into the physical archive? So instead of listening to their pontificating, she had excused herself to go greet this visitor. She loosened her overcoat as she followed the servant down to the reception room. It was a small affair, not particularly grand considering the residents. But that was to be expected given that most of the clan's wealth was tied up in dusty old tomes and other collections of knowledge. It was impressive, yes, but Oriana missed seeing the flint and glitter of gold and jewels piled to the ceiling.

"Thank you Tabitha, I can take it from here. Would you bring some refreshments for our guest and myself? Some orange pekoe would be lovely. And some of that meat pie Draena makes, if there is any." The servant took her leave as Oriana smoothed down her hair and adjusted the sword at her side. She might not be able to carry it around in public, but she would be damned if she wasn't going to remind her clan that she was a warrior at home. Knocking firmly on the door before opening it, Oriana entered the reception room with all the authority and poise that befitted a clan head and a knight.

Her nostrils were met with the distinct smell of dragon. The young man in front of her was one of her own kind, but he did not have a scent that resembled one of the other major clans. She unconsciously flicked her tongue out, though it would afford her no better sense of smell in her human form.

"Good afternoon, young man. I am Oriana Whitegold-Yskaandrar, head of the Yskaandrar clan."

She didn't bow or anything, expecting the young dragon to know that he should bow first in the presence of a clan head.

His bow was clumsy and unpracticed, he had clearly not been doing this his whole life as others had. Still, the young one knew something of manners, at least. Oriana bowed in return, acknowledging his sign of deference to her as the superior.

Offering him a seat and taking one across from him herself, Oriana crossed her legs and clasped her hands together as he explained his predicament. Was it strange for a dragon to come unannounced and request to be let into their archives?
Not strange so much as disrespectful. At least she had always seen it as such. No tribute offered, no fealty sworn. This world was so different, so backwards to how things were done in her own world.

Still, she had no qualms here. Bastion had often let others utilize the archives out of the kindness of his heart. And this was definitely a situation that required kindness. And, in a way, Oriana felt for this young dragon. Or, perhaps not for him, but his mother. If he didn't know who she was, she might not know where he was. Or how to find him.
That thought made Oriana's nostrils flare angrily for a brief moment.

"Unprecedented, yes. It isn't really often we get people seeking knowledge from our archives when we don't already have an established relationship with them. However, I believe an exception can be made."

Tabitha returned with the food and the tea, offering a cup to both Oriana and Theron before pouring the tea. It was rich, hot and fresh and stirred with cinnamon. A trick Bastion had shown Oriana that had delighted her at the time.

"First though, perhaps we should get to know one another better first. Benefactor to beneficiary. I have given you my name, but I don't believe I know yours yet."

Oriana could hardly remain stone faced at such a tale. Taken from his clan, his wings broken, and forced into a human shape for years? Who would do such a thing? To what end? None of it made sense. But one didn't live as long as Oriana did without learning to pick up the subtle hints of deception. The hints that, in this case, were nowhere present.

Setting her cup of tea down, the older dragon tapped her fingers together as if thinking. In truth, she had already made up her mind.
But displays of power were part of the game, and nothing showed power quite like the appearance of detached contemplation when faced with something that would pull at the heartstrings of nearly anyone.

After a while, she nodded once.
"That is quite the story, young wyrmling. I will allow you the use of our archives, though only the digital copies we have. It is a rare thing for anyone to be allowed to enter the physical vault where we store our knowledge."

Not mentioning the fact that a petrified dragon nearly three hundred feet thick blocked the entrance to said vault.
Picking her cup back up, Oriana casually finished her tea. She remarked that the two of them could wait a bit longer and let their stomachs settle before delving into the books.

"In the meantime," she added, a hint of motherly affection seeping into her voice. She had such difficulty with that, doing on the young of others. But who could blame her, really?
"why don't you tell me a bit more about yourself. And, of course, if you have any questions of your own. Feel free to ask."

"multiple elements... Bizarre." Despite her choice of words, Oriana showed no less composure than befit the leader of a dragon clan. She took a sip from her tea cup as she contemplated the younger dragon's explanations of himself and the questions he posed to her in turn.

"Dragons didn't have clans in my world. We were solitary creatures, possibly collecting in small groups of mentors and pupils, but nothing more."
Oriana leaned back in her seat, chewing her lip as if trying to remember something long forgotten.

"When I came to this world, Bastion, my mate. He took me in immediately. I was suspicious of his motives at first. Selflessness was seen as weakness in my world. One day I asked him outright what he wanted with me, to give me such lavish gifts and dote on my injuries."

Oriana smiled and put her tea down, calling for her servant to enter the room again.
"He said to me, 'clan is more than blood. It is a bond of the spirit, and dragon is only as strong as he is willing to help uplift his brethren.' It was so corny and simple, I loved it."

Turning briefly to the servant, she ordered her to bring her personal laptop into the sitting room for them. Bowing respectfully, the woman returned shortly after with the item in question in tow.