Grizelda

She came-to laid out on the ground in the Wandering Contagion. A fever filled her brain with fog. Every part of her ached. She tried to lift here head but the dizziness knocked her out again.
She finally opened her eyes again and the sun seemed blinding to her. She managed to raise her head to vomit. It made her feel a little better.
She tried to think, to remember something. The heat of the fever took it's toll on her again. Fog and confusion was all that seemed to be in her head. One other thing might have been there. A memory or echo of a voice. She thought harder as the world span around her. "Grizelda." A name. She was alone. No one was speaking. All she had was this name or a vague memory of someone shouting.
"Grizelda." she thought, "Is that me? Do I know that name?" There was nothing else in her thoughts. Nothing to tell her who she was or why she was lying in a patch of thorns. "It must be me. Grizelda. I need to drink. I need to get up."
She pushed as hard as she could with her feet but there was very little strength in her. She shook with the effort. She took a deep breath. "Grizelda is strong. Grizelda can do this." This mantra ran through her mind over and over again.
She pushed again and stumbled forward with thorns pulling at her wings. She stayed upright but the effort blurred her vision. There was a blue flash in the corner of her eye. She snapped at it and fell. Lying on the ground once more she gave in to unconsciousness.

Grizelda woke to a high pitched noise near her head. Her fever made the night air feel like a blanket of ice around her. A fae sat in front of her looking concerned. Did she know this creature. She didn't think so.
The fae spoke to her but Grizelda could not concentrate on his shrill tone. He was offering her a curved leaf filled with water. It wasn't much but she was so very thirsty. The fae flew off and she lay praising the cool night breeze. The fae returned with more water. "Drink up." She heard him say.

The little blue fae was often there as she fought through the fever. Her delirium frequently twisted her perception of time but nothing from her past came back to her. She relied on the tiny dragon to calm her and let her know what was going on. "The Plaguebringer has blessed you Grizelda."
When the fever finally left her, she learned his name was Lysander and he was demanding. He yelled in his high voice until she went to hunt. He told her where to go and went to sleep. She owed him her life so she accepted his behaviour. She never grew to like him.

She built them a shack within the Wandering Contagion and looked after them both. Lysander was not her dream but they had a nest together. A couple of lost spirals took shelter with them one night. This gave Grizelda a passion to look after them and other dragons. More dragons joined them and left. Some who visited her lair were on pilgrimages and taught her about the Deities. She shared her story of being blessed by the Plagubringer.
She decided to travel the whole clan through the Abiding Boneyard and with the team work of all the dragons that had stayed with her, set up a new lair closer to the Plaguebringer herself.