The Place
The Elemental Roost is a roost of bare stone at the edge of the planes, and the bare is the whole of the place, because a roost that is bare is a roost that has been scored, and the scored is the law. The roost sits on a ridge of bare rock where the world thins to the not-world, and the thinning is the measure the dragons trust, because a ridge that has been scored is a ridge that has been hoarded, and the hoarding is the patience. The stone of the roost is bare, a pale grey that is more score than color, and the pale is the color of the claw, which is to say it is a color you can see in the heat and not in the cold. The scores of the claw run deep into the rock, a dark line that is more memory than cut, and the oldest hoards shine amber through the pale stone, and the amber is the color of the kept, and the memory is the calendar, and the calendar is the word. The sky over the roost is a hard blue, the color of the planes when the storm is far, and the light on the bare stone is bright and mean, the kind of light that shows every score in the rock and every seam in the heat. It smells of hot stone and old hoard, a smell that is the roost and is also the patience, and the one sound under the stone is the tick, a small dry crack from the center of the roost that is the hoard being read as a word, and the word is the word, and the word is the end. There is no landmark the way a ridge has a landmark, but there is one: the First Score, a single deep cut in the rock at the center of the roost, the oldest score and the first hoard, and the score is the door, and the door is the tick. What makes the Elemental Roost itself is the patience: the roost keeps its hoards the way the hoards keep the word, and the keeping is the patience, and the patience is the word, and the word is the end.
How They Live
The Dragons keep their roost at the edge of the planes, living in chambers of bare rock and heat, their halls above the ridge and their entrances at the ridge's edge, and a hall is scored one claw at a time, because a claw is the season and a claw is the calendar. The halls are low and deep, a pale score over a hotter floor, and the pale is the wall and the hotter is the law, and the law is the heat. Light comes from the roost — the flat pale of the bare stone, which holds the thin sun of the season and gives it back, and the giving back is the daylight, and the daylight is the kept. Food is not something the roost offers often, and the not-offering is the law, because the dragon does not eat often, and the not-eating is the patience, and the patience is the kept; what the roost offers is the memory, and the memory is the only meal the word needs, and the memory of every oath they have ever sworn is the hoard, and the hoard is the kept. Water is drawn from the roost's springs, which the hoard-keepers tend like a garden, and the tending is the craft and the craft is the rank, and the springs are the cold threads at the ridge's edge, and the threads are the kept. Heat is the claw in the season of the cold, and the season is the year, and the dragons have stopped asking the stone for more. The defense is the roost itself — a visitor who steps onto the stone is already in the hoard's path, and the hoard is the alarm and the welcome and the sentence, because the roost has a count, and the count has a patience, and the patience has an end. The day is measured by the hoard, which is also the calendar, because the roost is the only clock the word needs, and the clock does not lie about what is owed. Every dragon that is named must stand at the First Score through one full tick before the roost will call it one of its own, and the standing is the naming, and the naming is the only thing the stone ever gives back.
People
Home of the Dragons, whose roosts are counted by hoard. Three roosts at the last count, and the count is kept by the hoard-keepers, which is to say the count is as reliable as the tick, which is to say it is reliable until the word breaks. The hoard-keepers lead, and rank is decided by the keeping, because a keeper who keeps an oath the roost has forgotten is the keeper the hoard trusts. Nothing that cannot stand at the First Score is welcome, and the not-standing is not an insult, because the roost has a word, and the word has a patience, and the patience has an end. A traveler who once stood at the far end of the ridge called it a country that keeps its hoards the way other countries keep their fields, and the calling was the truest thing he said and the thing the roost paid the least attention to.
In Stories
The place where the word is the only honest thing, and the thing is the hoard, and the hoard is the claw, and the claw is the end. The Forgotten have not crossed the ridge, and the not-crossing is the decision, and the decision is the longest one the guild has made. Uaellaen heard the tick once, from the edge of the First Score, and the hearing was the patience, and the patience was the only thing that lasted.