For the third time today, Peril wondered exactly how she'd gotten dragged into this situation. Actually, dragged was the wrong word. She wondered why she'd thrown herself into a dark, freezing tunnel dug out underneath half a mile of glacial ice. The answer, of course, was that she was on a mission for Clay, one that no other dragon could accomplish. Still, it was very cold down here.
Flexing her wings to try and keep them warm, she pressed on, carving out the tunnel in front of her with a combination of her scales and her breath. Behind her, the vast clouds of steam she was continually creating cooled quickly, raining down into rivulets that froze solid before they even came close to seeing daylight. The only illumination was her own fire, not that there was much to see.
She pushed on and on for what felt like miles, stopping every so often to psych herself up. I hate this freaking glacier SO MUCH, she thought, knee-deep in boiling slush. Stupid IceWings and their stupid magic ice-spears. Who would even WANT to go here, it's SO COLD. This went on for some time, though the adjectives became significantly less printable in a children's publication, until the ice in front of her quite suddenly cracked and then gave way. The arctic sun poured in, and she held up an arm to shield her eyes.
She was standing on a small outcrop in the middle of a vast canyon of ice, which curved and branched in every which way. The blue and white colors reminded her of Winter's scales, which was pretty obvious in hindsight. "Finally!" she shouted, letting her voice echo down the crevasse. Sure, it wasn't very stealthy, but she needed to hear something other than the roar of her flames and the rushing of water. Looking up, she tried to gauge the width of the gap above. It'd be super ironic if she broke her wing on an icy outcrop and fell to her death.
Not like there's any other way out of here. The motion of her shrug smoothly flowed into the first flap of her wings as she took off, angling up in a steep climb. Her wingtips barely brushed the lip of the crevasse as she flew free, scraping against the ice and knocking free two plumes of snow. There was nobody around up above, just a vast expanse of ice with no landmarks. This place just got better and better.
She landed, trying to ignore the steam billowing up around her, and tried to decide whether or not to mark where she'd emerged. It was hard to see the crevasses from a distance, according to Winter, but she could probably melt some kind of mark into the snow. Assuming it didn't snow again while she was looking for her targets. Also, the tunnel would probably close behind her anyway. That made sense, right? Well then, she'd just dig a new one later. Or ask one of the IceWings here if she could use one of their tunnels. Not like they could tell anyone about her mission after she'd already finished it.
Alright, now which way did Winter say they were? Definitely not south, I know that. She looked back at the crevasse, and the mountains of ice beyond. I really hope that I didn't get turned around down there, she thought, taking another look back to be sure. Stop waffling, Peril! Clay needs you to do this for him! With unnecessary force, she threw herself into the air, winging away from the crevasse and deeper into the Ice Kingdom.
Several Days Earlier
Peril held her ear just far enough from the door to the teachers' cave that it wouldn't start to burn. Not because she was snooping, but Clay had requested that she not intrude on staff meetings. Which is fair enough. I wouldn't want to burn someone, after all. Doesn't mean I can't "wait patiently" outside. The fact that the other dragonets could find out whether it was a good idea to skip Webs' next history lecture was just a nice bonus.
Right now, though, the teachers weren't talking about anything academic-not unless they planned to teach something by giving everyone three days off. That tidbit alone was enough to satisfy her curiosity, but they still hadn't said what the days were for. She wracked her brain-it wasn't on any SkyWing holiday that she knew of, but it was entirely possible that she'd missed some. Scarlet had really only brought her out to celebrate one day annually, and that was her… Oh duh, it's their birthday! Such an easy thing to forget, since it's literally THE MOST IMPORTANT thing about them.
She rubbed her snout, trying not to get mad at herself. Instead, she got a little frustrated with the dragonets. Why had none of them mentioned it to her? Sure, everyone knew they were born on the brightest night eight(ish) years ago, but she couldn't exactly check Poor Richvein's Almanac and find out the date. I'll just make it up to him by giving them a really good present. Something they won't ever forget! Easy. Now I just have to think of something Clay would like more than anything else in the world…
...well, that didn't work. What if I just asked him? He'd probably say something like "Oh, you don't have to do anything special for me, Peril," he's sweet like that. Her thoughts meandered for a bit, trying to recall if Clay had ever mentioned a piece of treasure he really liked from Scarlet's hoard or a particular type of gem he could wear. Would she even be able to carry him treasure? Not that he'd want it anyway-though she was sure that the prophecy dragonets were going to end up getting at least a little from some queen or another. No, her gift had to be something that nobody else could give him… and until they invented a fireproof prophylactic, that didn't include much he'd be interested in. She'd need to think about this some more...
The Present
Icewing villages were much less impressive than she'd expected. What, did they spend all their energy on the giant killer wall and only have enough left over for some igloos and a log cabin? Her talons sizzled on the permafrost as she landed outside the driftwood fence that marked the village's perimeter, and found that the view from the ground was not much better. A few IceWings glanced over at her, and there was a burst of muttering from the village. At least she assumed they were muttering, because she couldn't hear much over the rush of steam. Just ask for directions and then you can leave, Peril. No need to start a fight.
She trotted towards the hamlet, hopping over the fence effortlessly, and a pair of IceWings armed with harpoons ran up to head her off. "Who goes there?" demanded one of them, more confused than stern.
"I'm Peril. You've probably heard of me 'cause of the whole 'saving the world' thing."
"Hey, you almost killed the queen's cousin!" He waved the harpoon at her ineffectually. It didn't even look sharp enough to pierce paper, let alone dragonhide.
She sighed. How is THAT the thing they remember? At least it's better than remembering all the actual IceWings I did in. "Yeah, but we're friends now. At least, I think? We exchange letters. Whatever. I'm here to ask for directions."
"Wait a second, how are you even here at all?" asked the second IceWing. He was shorter than the first, and his scales had a bit of a greenish tinge. "Have the SkyWings found a way to fly over the Great Ice Wall?" His eyes went wide.
"How should I know? I just tunneled under it."
"By yourself," the first IceWing said, incredulous.
"Yeah. I doubt any other SkyWing could do it without freezing to death. Anyway, about those directions…"
The IceWings turned to each other, and spoke in hushed tones. Behind them, Peril could see the other inhabitants of the village poking their heads out to get a look at her. She tried to look non threatening, which was difficult to do while wreathed in a swirling cloud of snow and steam. At least her scales were getting a nice sauna treatment.
Another few whispers, and the guards turned back to her. "Okay," said the first, lifting his harpoon to point skyward. "Where do you need directions to?"
"Well see, that's just it. I'm not exactly looking for a place…"
Several days earlier, but some hours later than the first time
Opinions were divided on Peril's usefulness in the prey area. On the one hand, she spent so much time there that any dragonet who preferred their food cooked was never going to be unsatisfied for long. On the other hand, she spent so much time there that any dragonet who didn't prefer their food cooked had to make very sure not to get any help from her. She didn't much care either way; Clay spent his mealtimes-all five of them-here, so so did she.
Right now, he was picking at a disemboweled boar like he was imitating royalty. She'd finished long ago-anything she picked at would end up ash before the bits she'd grabbed reached her mouth. Usually, though, they ate at about the same pace-as fast as dragonly possible until they were sated, which only lead to her spending about two-thirds of meals waiting for Clay. "What's the matter? Stomachache?"
"Huh?" he asked, gulping down half a spleen. "Oh, this. I'm trying to pace myself better, cut back a little." As he spoke, he slashed free another clawful of meat and horked it down.
"You love eating, though. Why limit yourself?"
"Well, teaching doesn't exactly burn through fat like fighting for our lives." He pointed to his gut. Peril couldn't see any difference between how it'd looked when they met and now, aside from the fact that Clay was larger overall. And, y'know, the lack of restraints and presence of a sense of purpose. He wasn't fat, is the point. "Plus, I am getting older…"
"Clay, you're seven years old."
"I'm eight next week!" he protested, and she chuckled.
"That's… true. I don't think you really need to cut back, though. You'd look good however much you ate-not to imply that I think you should eat more or something. I have no stance on the matter."
Now it was her turn to be flustered and his to be amused. "Okay, I'll consider it." He took a few more bites, though slightly faster, before Peril replied.
Her claws made little furrows in the dirt as she twiddled them, trying to disguise her anxiety. "That does sort of lead in to the other thing I wanted to ask you about."
"Hmmh? M-mmh?" he mumbled through a mouthful of pork.
"Well, your birthday is coming up in a few days, and I was wondering-"
"Oh, you don't need to get me anything, Peril. I haven't exactly gotten you anything so far, after all."
I called it! Time for Plan B. "Oh no, it's not that. I was thinking more about what you were having for dinner."
Clay's eyes lit up. "Oh, I was actually in charge of this part of the party planning!"
"Would've been a disgrace to choose anyone else."
"I don't know, Sunny could probably have- nevermind, the point is: we've got all sorts of things planned for dinner that night. The village butchers have volunteered half a pasture's worth of meat, seems like, and Glory's entourage is probably going to take as much of the jungle with them as they can. And, of course, all the new recipes that the dragonets have been cooking up." He smiled knowingly at her.
"That sounds really good but… what about a centerpiece? Something big and exciting, to commemorate the big day."
"Huh? I don't really have one planned yet. Everyone likes different things, you know." He shrugged.
"Well, what about you? What would you put in the middle of that table, if you could have anything in the world?" This was her masterstroke, and the crux of Plan B. If there was one thing Peril could do, it was kill large animals. Well, she'd only really ever killed one kind of large animal, but it wasn't like a buffalo could fight harder than a dragon.
"I'm not sure. There aren't many things in Pyrrhia bigger or more impressive than a buffalo, and we've got two of those. Though, I have heard rumors…
Right Now
Peril sat on top of a high rocky outcrop, eyeing her prey cautiously. They were much larger than any other animal she'd ever heard of, except maybe whales. But she'd never actually seen one of those, and part of her still suspected that they were a Seawing invention to make land-bound dragons, who were limited to smaller prey, envious. In any case, these things were shaggy, fat, and nearly as big as she was. They stink to high heavens, too. Still, Clay would be absolutely blown away to have something so large and rare-and to have it all to himself, if she could help it.
She cracked her neck and flexed her wings, then leapt off the cliff, flapping once to give herself the speed she needed to nail one of the mammoths right in the side. So fast was her fall that she bore a passing resemblance to a comet, up until she slammed into three tons of angry pachyderm and nearly bounced right off. The only thing that kept her from being thrown to the ground was one talon that had caught in it's matted hair. She jumped back quickly before she ended up falling, and let out a throaty roar and a burst of crimson flame.
All three mammoths in the herd turned to face her for a moment. Two of them, quite put off by the off-color dragon that breathed fire instead of ice, turned tail and ran after the first glance, but the largest, which she'd hit first, stood his ground. Alright, you big oaf, let's do this! She leapt at it, reaching out for its eyes with her superheated talons, and it lowered its head to charge. Instead of hitting the eyes, she hit its forehead and quickly got a grip on its hair. To her dismay, the hair was soaking wet and refused to burn. All it did was sizzle and let out an even more pungent stench.
The mammoth reached up with its trunk to try and pull her off, but all she felt was the barest tickle before it yelped and recoiled, badly burned. As she tried to lower herself down to jam a claw in its eye, it began to shake its head, tossing her around like a ragdoll from side-to-side. Her vision swam and she let go, tumbling to the ground and shakily regaining her footing. "Okay, no more Mrs. Nice Dragon!" she shouted, and then a tusk hit her squarely in the side.
For the first time in years, she flew without flapping her wings, in an arc that would've been graceful if not for her flailing about trying to regain her balance. Her trip ended with a splash in a shallow pool of meltwater nearby. She got to her feet again, spitting out a glob of muck, and saw that the mammoth's tusks were barely even burned. That's impressive. And… kinda terrifying, she thought, right before it charged right for her.
Later
The birthday party, despite the pouring rain outside, was one of the greatest in living memory. Any one of the prophecy dragonets could've had an event fit for a queen, but together they managed something even more impressive. The eight tables they'd set out in the entrance hall were piled high with presents and food alike, not just for them but for all the guests in attendance. Initially, their own circular table had been at the head of the hall, but Glory had convinced them that sitting at the biggest chairs in front of everyone else would be a bad look and now each of the other tables was headed by one of the students who'd volunteered to move the massive stone furniture into a circle at the last moment.
Even more impressive than the contents of the tables were the dragons seated around them. The guest list was a veritable who's-who of Pyyrhia's most important dragons, but more importantly every dragonet student had at least one or two friends or family members in attendance. Tsunami had had her hands full all morning, trying to keep a fight from breaking out between all the tribes. The only seat left open was the one right next to Clay-carved of the finest stone. Peril hadn't been seen in days, and nobody was sure where she'd run off to. Winter and the other IceWings had seemed apprehensive when he asked them this morning, but none of them actually knew where she was.
So, as everyone else tucked into the largest meal they'd ever seen and shared happy stories with their favorite people, Clay sat sullenly on his chair and picked at a buffalo haunch. Starflight was the first to break away from the throng and ask him about it. "Hey, what's wrong? I can barely hear you eating."
"It's Peril."
"What, did she tell you to stop eating? I think that's probably grounds for a breakup honestly, but it's your-"
"No, that's not it," Clay said a hint of a smile on his face. "She hasn't been around all day, and I'm wondering if… well, I just hope she's safe. Wherever she is."
"Me too." Starflight patted him on the back, a little stiffly. "Why don't you follow me and we can mingle a bit. I think you could use the distraction… and I need someone to stop me from bumping into everyone."
Clay stood, slow as a brown river. "Okay, let's do that." He took a final glance towards the opening of the cave, and suddenly his spines perked up. "Wait, do you see that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes to try and see through the darkness and rain outside.
"No!" replied Starflight cheerfully, and Clay winced.
"It looks like… Peril!" he yapped, and took off towards the front of the cave. Starflight sighed, and trotted back over to Fatespeaker. The night was still young.
Pushing past a very surprised Queen Snowfall-and a somewhat less surprised Queen Ruby-Clay emerged from the other side of the crowd to watch Peril descend, trailing steam from the rain. There was massive furry bundle in her claws. Had she caught a whole herd of buffalos?
She barreled towards them, and Clay took a step back as she thudded down on the rocks, her cargo slamming down next to her, surprisingly unburnt. Maybe she'd been holding it by those two big teeth? She lay there for what felt like forever, panting heavily as the party fell silent and stared, then looked up at him and groaned. "You're getting a necklace next year..."
Author's Note: Written in three days after marathoning the first ten WoF books, because Cleril is the light of my life. Expect more shippy stuff from me in the future. As always, comments (even a simple "wow, i loved this story") are appreciated.