Smidvarg Chapter 2

The Night Terror dragon known as Terror-white didn't feel very terrifying. Yesterday, he had been one step away from becoming his flock's Alpha. He didn't precisely crave that role, but he knew it was his destiny. Today, he was a homeless wanderer with no flock and no future. Another Alpha candidate had staged a coup and taken over the flock, and Terror-white had fled to save his life. He was still fleeing, but he didn't know where he was going, or what he would do when he got there. All he knew was that his once-promising future had taken a turn for the worse, much worse.

He saw a tiny islet off in the distance to the right. It was rocky, with no plant life except seaweed along the edges. He probably would find no hiding place there, especially with his light-colored hide against the dark-colored rocks. But he needed to rest; his kind were strong flyers, but he was still a young dragon and his stamina was not fully developed. He landed, found a lighter-colored patch of rock where his own color wouldn't stand out so strongly, and curled up to sleep.

He was awakened a few hours later by a spray of cold water in his face. The wind was picking up, and the waves were pummeling the shores of his little island with unusual force, splashing the entire islet. He was in no danger of drowning, but he'd get no rest here, either. He figured out which way was downwind, made sure he wasn't going back the way he came, and resumed flying.

Over the next few weeks, he visited numerous islands. Some were inhabited only by humans and their livestock. He left those islands strictly alone; humans tended to shoot at dragons first and not even bother asking questions later. Other islands were nests for the larger dragons. He left those alone, too; many dragons wouldn't hesitate to eat a Night Terror for a quick snack. He even found an island with both humans and dragons on it, including one black dragon of a type he'd never seen before. He didn't know how the two species worked out their joint ownership of the island, but no matter how they did it, that island was double trouble for a small dragon like him. He took a long detour around that one.

His ultimate goal was to find another flock of Night Terrors, preferably one that needed an Alpha. If he couldn't find one of those, then an island with no other large living things at all would be a fair substitute. He could rest there in the daytime, fish at night, and stay alive long enough to plan his next move. He had no luck in finding either kind of island, so his nomadic existence went on and on. He would find a promising place, find a spot to sleep, begin to relax, and within a day or two, he'd find something (or something would find him) that made him realize he couldn't stay.

He was in no danger of starvation; he was a good enough fisher to have no fears in that department. But, as a small dragon in a very big world, it was only a matter of time until something large and hungry caught him from behind. The only real solution to that problem was to be part of a flock of dragons, with eyes watching in all directions so nobody could be ambushed. His endless vigilance had saved him several times already, but some of his survival could be attributed only to luck, and he knew that no one's luck could remain good forever.

It was nearly midnight when he found his latest hope for a home. This island was low and flat on one side, with plenty of short trees, while the other half was a bare rocky plateau. The overgrown side seemed to offer a better hope for a hiding place, so he angled down in that direction. He was still a hundred wing-lengths from the shore when he saw movement above the trees. But he couldn't see anything in particular in the darkness, just motion. To him, that could mean only one thing: dark-colored dragons. Night Terrors?

He called out, "Hello! Wait for me!" Instantly, the motion scattered in six different directions. His heart sank. Then the motion came back together... and scattered again. He realized that they were trying to wait for him without becoming motionless. That suggested Night Terrors ahead, and it also suggested predators nearby. He quickly looked behind himself. There was nothing there. He continued on his course until the motion resolved itself into six Night Terrors, four males and two females, flying in a rough circle around him.

"You're a Night Terror... but you're all white!" the largest female exclaimed.

"Yeah, I noticed that, too," he said drily.

"Are you an Alpha?" added a male who had to be the female's mate.

"I was an Alpha in training, before I had to leave my flock," he admitted. "Where is the rest of this flock?

"We're all that's left," the female said sadly. "Big fish and Changewings got all the rest. The Changewings haven't been back in weeks; maybe this fragment of a flock is too small to interest them. Can you help us?"

"I'm not sure what kind of help I can give," Terror-white said slowly. "I can form us into a formation, but seven little dragons won't fool anyone. I'll be glad to join your flock, just so you'll have one more set of eyes looking out for trouble, if you'll have me."

"A white dragon at night would draw attention," a smaller female said. "You might be more of a hindrance than a help."

"But he's an Alpha!" the male shot back. "How could an Alpha dragon be a problem?"

"He says he's an Alpha," the small female retorted. "But is he, really?"

"I can prove that easily enough," Terror-white decided. "Vertical circle!" Rearranging a half-dozen dragons was much easier than controlling a huge flock. He did just what he always did - visualize the formation he wanted, then blink and send out the thought...

In moments, the horizontal ring of dragons around him turned into a vertical ring. Night Terrors never flew in that formation, so it was a convincing proof that he'd made it happen, rather than it being a coincidence. "Yup, he's an Alpha," the large female stated firmly. "So... now that you're in charge here, what do we do next?"

Terror-white wasn't ready for that. "Well... first off, please show me how you've been doing things around here. I need to know where you sleep, where the good fishing grounds are, where the Changewings come from... stuff like that."

"Gladly!" the male said. It didn't take long; their sleeping arrangements could be boiled down to "everyone has their own tree where they can't be seen from above." The fish were not very plentiful near the island, so to avoid hunger, they either had to fly for a mile or more to better fishing grounds, or supplement their diets by flying open-mouthed through the swarms of insects that rose every night during the spring and summer. Both habits left them vulnerable to larger dragons and other predators, which was why their numbers had fallen to almost nothing. Their former Alpha had been picked off by a Changewing that had camouflaged itself against an ocean wave until the last moment, and the rest of the flock hadn't done well after that.

"So," said the smaller female in a much more pleasant tone, "what happens next?"

"If you don't mind," Terror-white answered, "I'd like to stay here for a while. It's been months since I was in a place that I could call 'home.' But our end-game is to move on until we find a really big flock to join, so we'll be safe."

"Is there such a flock?" the larger female asked.

"There has to be," he answered firmly. "I came from a flock like that, and you used to belong to a flock like that. You can't convince me that there are only two big flocks of us in this area. There must be more. It's just a question of finding one."

"That works for me," the larger female decided, and the others nodded. Just like that, he became the Alpha of his own tiny flock.

For the next three weeks, they settled into a pleasant routine of fishing at night and sleeping during the daytime. There weren't many insects to eat at this time of year, and Terror-white was opposed in principle to the idea of flying high in the air without being able to form a giant-dragon formation if predators arrived. They all lived on fish instead. The others listened to the story of his life so far, and he learned more about the flock that used to live here. It felt good, knowing that the others counted on him to make the right decisions for them now, and that he was finally fulfilling his destiny, even if the dragons of his flock could be counted on his foreclaws with a few left over.

Something else that felt good was knowing that the small female, Terror-ate-a-moth, was growing fond of him. (She'd gotten her name during one of those insect-eating flights; while aiming for a mouthful of swarming bugs, she'd accidentally inhaled a good-sized moth and nearly choked on it.) He was still too young for a mating flight, but if he could keep her (and himself) alive until the spring, he knew he would have a willing partner.

There came a night when Terror-ate-a-moth swooped down towards a likely-looking fish, then screamed and bounded straight upwards. There was a great splash where she had been a moment before. "What happened?" Terror-white asked as he rushed to her side.

"Sh- sh- shark!" she blurted out, terrified.

"I saw it," the larger female added as she joined them. "It came straight up at her from below. I'm amazed that she saw it in time to dodge it."

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Mostly," she admitted. About an inch and a half was missing off the end of one of her tail spines. That had to hurt, but it wasn't a crippling injury.

After making sure that all the dragons were all right, Terror-white made his decision. "These are our best fishing grounds, but if a clever shark is hanging around here, then we can't fish here anymore. I think we should grab a few smaller fish from the shallows around our island, get a good day's sleep, and then start looking for our forever-flock."

"You're the Alpha," Terror-ate-a-moth agreed, "and I have definitely had enough of these waters!" They got a few mouthfuls from the shallows, enjoyed one last day of rest, and set off across the sea in search of an island that was home to more of their kind.

Terror-white warned them that it might take weeks, even months, to find the place they were looking for. They nodded, but they obviously hoped he was wrong. To his amazement, it took eight days and three islands before they approached a place that looked perfect for their kind.

"It has lots of trees to hide in during the day," he observed.

"It's big enough to support a good-sized flock," his future mate noticed.

"And there's deep water right offshore," he concluded, "so we shouldn't have to fly very far to find big schools of fish. Even if there aren't any other Night Terrors here, we should stay for a while, just because it's a wonderful place." He was the Alpha, so that settled it. They descended toward the trees.

"Hey, we're not alone here!" the large female suddenly shouted. "There's a Night Terror in that tree!"

"And that one as well!" her mate added.

"Do I know you?" came a Night-Terror-like voice from the nearest tree.

"No, we're survivors from other flocks," Terror-white began, "and we're -"

"Yes, I do know you!" the dragon in the tree shouted as he showed himself.

"Father!" the white dragon burst out, unbelieving. They rushed together. Other Night Terrors stirred in the nearby trees. At first, they complained about someone ruining their good day's sleep, but when they heard that a family reunion was happening, they joined the party. Soon, a swarm of Night Terrors hundreds strong was whirling around at low altitude. Terror-white's mother quickly found her son from the far side of the swarm, and and two of his sisters joined the reunion as well.

"So... what are you guys doing here?" Terror-white finally asked. "I didn't go in a big circle and wind up where I started, did I?"

"No," Terror-with-a-gray-spot said with a touch of sadness. "We had a flock split. Terror-salty was running us into the ground with endless drills and formations -"

"Mostly to show off his power!" Terror-bent-tail added bitterly.

"...and, one or two at a time, we all realized that we couldn't last very long that way," his father continued. "We finally confronted him and demanded that he stop abusing us. When he asked what we were going to do about it, we threatened to leave. He said he wouldn't let us do that, and we'd be stupid to take off into the wilderness without an Alpha anyway. So we all took off, just to show him who was the stupid one. He was powerful enough to hold onto about one-third of the flock; the rest of us made a clean getaway. We searched for weeks until we found this island."

"It's perfect for us!" his sister chimed in.

"Yes, it is," Terror-with-a-gray-spot nodded. "It has everything a flock of Night Terrors needs."

"Except an Alpha dragon," his mother said with a knowing look.

Terror-white gulped. The reality of his situation hit him as he glanced at the hundreds and hundreds of Night Terrors swirling around him. If Terror-salty couldn't hold onto these dragons, could he really do any better? But they needed him. They needed the safety that they could find only through his special ability. Besides, he wasn't going to hold them against their will; he would merely adjust their flying positions in time of crisis. They wouldn't resist him when he did that.

A male he'd never seen before buzzed him from above. "Did you say the white one is an Alpha dragon?" The others heard the words "Alpha dragon," and the word spread quickly. Now they were all focused on him.

"Do you want me to show you what I can do?" he asked the nearest ones.

"Yes," they answered. "We need to see if you can really lead us before we call you our Alpha."

"We can vouch for him," Terror-ate-a-moth cut in. "We've seen him in action. He's the real deal."

"The flock will still feel better if we see him in action ourselves," his father said. "Some of us know what you can do, but the whole flock should be fully convinced. We get more unity that way."

"All righty, then! Giant dragon formation!" He hadn't done one of those in months, but he knew that was what the flock wanted to see. He visualized what he wanted to see, then blinked and sent out the thought. He watched as the other dragons formed up; if one seemed to be slower than the others, he redirected that one to the tail, which would be the last part of the formation to appear. The faster flyers, he sent to the wings so they could "flap," and he remembered to take his own place as the "eye" of the giant "dragon." It took about three seconds. Once they were formed up, he had the "wings" spread to their full span, and the "mouth" opened and let out a bellow that was actually the amplified roar of a hundred small dragons. He smiled. He hadn't lost his touch. They would gladly accept him as their Alpha now.

Like all the Night Terrors, he was focused on his formation and the dragons nearest to him. If he had looked down, he might have seen a young human with a four-horned helmet and a chicken at his feet staring up through the trees at them wide-eyed and gasping, "Oh... my... Thor!" But the young man passed unnoticed.