Nemichthys shook his head to dispel the dust. Clearing away the walls of this lake was a challenging task, but one that would ultimately bring him great benefit.
He had requested permission from the dragon he now knew as Winter to expand the lake. As things were now, there wasn't as much room as Nemich preferred to swim about, and the fish were constantly afraid of his presence.
Progress was middling in general; he had renewed strength from being returned to water, which made the process easier. That said, it was still quite tiring overall.
The SeaWing sensed a new presence in the water and flicked his head. An ice-white arm was waving around, no doubt requesting his attention. Perhaps they needed to make a 'person wants to talk to you' signal. He sped over, startling the fish that always schooled on the opposite side of the lake from him.
Winter was waiting, alone. He had a serious expression most times, and this was true today. Nemichthys was older than the aloof dragon by a margin, but he understood to show respect to the leader of Sanctuary.
"Alright. I've given you a few days to settle. Now, as is customary, I would like some questions answered about your life, in the event that some element of it impacts Sanctuary." Hmm. He gathered that this was in fact, not customary, and simply a disguised method for Winter to satisfy his own curiosity. But it hardly mattered. Why be difficult and not provide some information? "To whom were you born?"
"My father abandoned his charge and fled, witnessing my deformity upon hatching. Mother considered the option, but instead raised me out of dragonethood in hiding. She gave me her name as Cutlass. Once I was of capable age, Cutlass stealthily disappeared as well." Nemich was not used to speaking for such long intervals, and his voice broke once or twice. Winter absorbed the knowledge swiftly, nodding.
"And on the topic of this deformity. You say you were born with only two arms?" He raised them as a demonstration, tail-end swirling and churning the water beneath.
"According to Cutlass, there are various documentations of mutations and deformities for dragons, and many have been given titles. Those such as myself are referred to as lindwurms. We sport exceptionally long bodies and a mere two forelegs. Hardly far off from a snake."
The IceWing sitting in line with him on the shore did not like such an analogy, visibly clenching his teeth and looking uncomfortable. He seemed much more aware of the blessing of six limbs.
"And you can't fly?"
"If there is a way, I have not learned how." The 'boss' was silent for a moment. A claw scraped idly in the dirt. Nemich briefly dipped his head under the water to refresh; it was a cloudless and hot day that singed his scales.
"Would you have a description of your life in adulthood?" That took a brief second to consider. He had done a lot, but most was unimportant.
"I honed my talents. Traveled the seas. I will admit that there have been some unsavory acts of mine, but it is a mere fraction of my reputation. That, and this fugitive status you know, arose from my hunting. My exceptional speed and tactics for catching prey has outshone many a SeaWing. However, in several instances, they claimed I was, quote, 'taking what could be going to more worthy causes'. This turned into accusations of theft, and the proportions of their claims grew. I had little choice but to lead the life of an outlaw."
As far as Nemichthys understood, this was all true. These SeaWings had all failed to mention if he was trespassing on a reserved hunting area. To his knowledge, any fish was fair game for whoever could catch it. Sadly, it seemed that if a lindwurm caught it, they were wasting valuable resources and being too much of a burden.
Winter regarded his side of the story cautiously, debating if it could be the truth. Nemich heard a cheer and glanced to the side. In the main body of Sanctuary, he could see various younger dragons, perhaps even dragonets, playing and conversing, generally having a good time. Judging by the variety of their body structures and colorations, some were hybrids. The sight warmed his heart ever slightly, and a smile dared to reach his face.
He assumed many of them did not know what was now lurking in their lake.
"One more thing." Winter had traced his gaze, and also appeared sentimental. "You wouldn't happen to have...sired any eggs...?"
That statement brought Nemich the closest to laughter than he had been in years.
"No sir." The IceWing nodded, awkwardly glancing at his talons for a moment.
"I...apologize if I brought up any bad memories. Do enjoy your stay in Sanctuary, Nemichthys."
Intriguing. What could that have been about?
Tired from swimming in place for a time, the hyper-blue aquatic reptile retreated to the bottom of the lake, settling down for a short rest. He was alone with his thoughts now.
Truth be told, despite early abandonment, his life on the run, facing prejudice and injustice, and nearly dying, he could not conjure any truly bad memories. He was far from satisfied with the turnout of life, but he just believed that it was how things were, and couldn't be changed. Why fret about the unfortunate past when there is still life to live?
One could say I'm unnaturally optimistic.
Instead, Nemichthys considered the more recent events. He was now here, in Sanctuary, and that was splendid. But now he had to ponder what to do going forward. He had traded the fast pace and freedom of the ocean for the safety of a close-knit community. In short, this little hidden town was not very exciting.
So another purpose was needed. Perhaps he could learn a skilled trade, and give back to the people. As much as the thought appalled him, he could practice traveling on land and learning social skills. He was very unfamiliar with the concept, but maybe it was time to...make friends.
Not doing so well in that department thus far. He hadn't seen the dragon by the name of Gentleheart since the healing dragon's quarters three days ago. Nemichthys somewhat blamed himself for the rift, as he had been harsh in correcting her about his condition. She had believed that his lack of other limbs was the result of an accident or the claws of an enemy.
It was a reasonable assumption, albeit false and one he disliked. However, that did not give him cause to admonish her as heavily as he had. Judging by the NightWing's name, she was one to demonstrate large amounts of empathy, and while wholesome, those good intentions could be misled and hurtful to some.
All of this was entirely new to Nemich. Her kindness was on a scale that not even Cutlass had achieved. Gentleheart had effectively saved his life.
Satisfied and feeling more energetic, the lindwurm rose from the lakebed, snapping up a fish that had gotten too curious and swam close. He broke the surface, and a startled gasp indicated he wasn't alone.
A younger dragoness had been sipping from the lake water. She bore brilliantly yellow scales that seemed to sparkle and shimmer like gold. He could tell why, seeing the thinness of her tail which lacked a barb; somewhere deep inside were some subtle IceWing genetics.
"I apologize. I had no intention of startling you." Did that sound friendly? Maybe he needed to try smiling. Or putting inflection into his normally monotone and distant voice.
"Uh—bah, no, I wasn't startled! Totally not. Heh." Her dopey smile and confidence was decently uplifting. "Hey, are you new? Thought I would recognize scales like that." The color certainly left an impression.
"I arrived rather recently, yes." Nemich lifted himself from the water in an effort to appear more polite, and converse on the same level. This SandWing was very easy to talk to, and he nearly forgot how much different he was and how that would change things.
"Well, pleased to meetcha. I promise you'll love Sanctuary, cuz we—" She stopped dead silent as he still continued leaving the water, curling up on the bank one layer at a time as a snake might. Coiling like this was one of the easiest ways for him to sit; it gave the appearance of a rounded pyramid.
"Please, go on." Nemich didn't intend to sound so sour, but her wide-eyed stare was vexatious.
"A—I—excuse me." His potential friend-no-longer scrambled off to the safety of some surrounding trees, in the direction he had seen the dragonets playing earlier. Alas, as welcoming as Sanctuary was, he could not expect any less of a reaction. They would not go to extremes such as those in the Sea Kingdom, but he could never count on complete impartiality. It wasn't possible.
Now that the'secret' was out, he figured that the news would spread like flames. I suppose it's time to have some admirers. Nemichthys fell out of his coil and slithered along the short grass, intending to explore Sanctuary. Barely any part of it was visible from here.
West of the lake was a curious structure that he had seen at a distance. To one side was a dragon's house, roughly built but with some compact charm. However, to its left sat a much smaller structure, more crude in construction and surrounded by some form of cage or fencing.
Inside was a small creature, shaggy and wearing bedraggled pelts of other animals. It had a weird, flat face, and Nemich realized that this description aligned with one he had heard a long time ago. The Pirate had picked up many details during his life on the run, and the reality of a scavenger was one.
Despite the antagonistic attitude some dragons seemed to hold (and the more friendly attitudes others such as Winter maintained), Nemich was indifferent to these beings. They seemed intelligent, and he believed it was best for both parties to just stay out of each other's way.
This particular scavenger was sitting down awkwardly, and he could smell blood. An injury was the most likely scenario. It noticed him and gave a start, unsettled by the strange appearance but also surprisingly not too shocked or caught off guard. To it, he was probably just another dragon. That was a nice sentiment.
"Greetings. You are a very peculiar creature." They watched each other for a moment. The scavenger made an odd gesture and gave off some squeaks in its language. "Perhaps we are both a little different. I take it Winter has you imprisoned here as a means of research and study?"
Not much in terms of response, though it did wince a bit in reference to the bent area of its body. Nemich would likely make things worse if he tried to help in any way. It was simply too small. "For what it is worth, I would offer you my empathy, scavenger. Pain is never pleasant."
"Da-fo-dil," it said, surprising him again. It was a rough dialect, but close enough to understand. It had to have learned from hearing the language consistently. Daffodil...perhaps a name? Very curious indeed.
"Neh-mick-these. Your wisdom exceeds your stature, Daffodil." It perked in surprise, hearing its name repeated. They had now established some sort of connection. Ironically, his first friend in Sanctuary was just as weird as he. Does Winter know it can do this?
He extended a claw through the bars of the prison, and Daffodil put out its own small appendage, tapping him lightly. Was it perhaps with wariness or reverence?
"Ner—meck—this?" He gave a shake of the head, though not displeased. Daffodil's broken speech was somewhat charming.
"You are close, small one. Continue learning. Your time will come. And I do wish that injury gets better."
With that, Nemichthys took his leave of that area, ruminating on the peculiar encounter.
From what he could surmise, that building was the most external structure of Sanctuary, so the rest of the town could be discovered on the other side of the lake. He slipped through the water on the way to refresh from the hot sun again, and resumed on the other end.
Nemichthys made sure to travel as straight as possible to avoid losing his way. After a patch of trees, he encroached upon a row of rudimentary and improvised houses of varying material. Some looked so weary as to fall over at the slightest breath. Still, elements in every tribe's favored design could be seen, such as the rocky huts of MudWings and the arboreal homes of RainWings.
It was very quiet here, almost solemn. No one was loitering about outside. Either there was some event, or everyone happened to be out hunting or doing some other task. The SeaWing continued to creep his way along.
Beyond, there was another row of buildings, similarly average and dilapidated. The only sign of another dragon was a tail disappearing behind a door that was swiftly shut. He wondered if they had seen him or not.
Just beyond, he spotted a structure of actual interest. Four tall pillars stood proud in a clearing, supporting a strange spherical building above the ground. It was all made of what looked like some kind of metal. The orb had several windows, and a ladder led to a door.
Nemichthys coiled up to support his upper body so he could get a better look. He assumed the position of a cobra ready to strike while observing the odd ball with legs. Abruptly, a creaking sound signified the door opening.
A stocky dragon of turquoise and peanut-colored scales hopped out of the sphere, ignoring the ladder and gliding to the ground a fair enough distance away. Their body was blotched with the two different colors, as though someone had taken blue-green paint and splattered it all over. Nemich took the early presumption of them being a hybrid of both Mud and Sea.
What interested him more however, was the dragon's ecstatic expression.
"Wowee! You're incredible!" It was the squeaky, overly-excited voice of a male adolescent, though this made no sense; the stranger's build and stature implied someone much older.
Nemich considered his words. I would not take 'incredible' as a common description. He considered the meaning of this word choice as the peculiar hybrid approached excitedly. "This is amazing! I heard from Beryl that a special dragon was here, but I never thought this is what she meant!" He studied this fellow up and down, wary to offer conversation yet.
"Oh, gosh I'm sorry. My name's Quinkana, but you can just call me Quinn! Eek! This is so wonderful!" He trotted around in a little circle. Definitely the most eccentric person thus far...
That said, very few people were normally happy to see Nemich. Had they met in the past and he had forgotten? What was going on with that weird building? Now was perhaps a good opportunity to...make friends.
"Greetings—I mean, um, hey, Quinn. I'm...Nemichthys. Howww arrrrree...you?" That did not go very well. Quinn was still quite happy, running the name through his tongue several times.
"Fascinating. I'm great though, thanks for asking! —Hey, if you want, we can talk up in the lab. There's some stuff you might think is pretty cool!" Ah, a scientist. That explained things a decent amount.
"Very well. Let us observe this laboratory. —I mean, yeah. Let's go." Another failure. It was difficult to sound as casual as many of these dragons. He was much more used to speaking succinctly and with propriety.
Quinn led the way, scrambling up the ropes toward the landing. Nemich hesitated. He was not very accustomed to...climbing. Or looking up.
It couldn't be that hard of a skill. He grasped the first rung, and started moving with one arm at a time. In short order, the weight of his back half swiftly compiled as he started to dangle in the air. Definitely a good exercise for the shoulders.
Still, it wasn't as taxing as he had predicted, and the lindwurm reached a higher elevation than he had achieved in a very long time. He used some spinal strength to pull the rest of the cumbersome body onto the landing, and briefly looked back.
From this height, Sanctuary was laid out, a humble cluster amidst the forest. He could actually see the sky; blue and cloudless, a virtual sea in the air.
A pang of longing for the magic of flight touched his heart.
Nemichthys turned to the lab. The door had been left swinging open. It was not a very large structure, and he worried if both dragons would fit. Still, the SeaWing dragged himself inwards.
Hm. I have yet to see something like this.
Drawings, sketches, scrolls, scientific diagrams, sculptures, everything...was of anomalies. Look to the right, and there was a wyvern. On the left, a drake. Documentations of every hybridization known to exist. This was a true expert on everything bizarre.
Quinkana himself was sitting in the back, shivering with excitement—or perhaps anxiety.
"Okay, so, um-um, hi. Make yourself comfortable." He suddenly cringed. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. That's not what I meant. I really should have—I know it's a little cramped, but..." So very nervous. I suppose this is what happens when one encounters their muse. Nemich was not even sure what offense Quinn believed himself to have committed.
Still, the former attempted to accept the invitation, moving along the curve of the room and finding enough space to awkwardly coil up along the wall.
"Resume." Quinn took a brief second to collect himself.
"Okay, okay. Greetings, I am Quinkana, as I have already told you, and as you can see, I am already making a fool of myself—!" His face took on a steamed red color of blood flow in embarrassment. "Relax, Quinn, ugh...Right. Anyhow, I am, what you could call, a student. I absolutely love dragons who are unique, so I do a lot of research!"
"By unique, you mean freakish and abnormal?" Quinn responded quickly, and had the audacity to shush him.
"Not like that! We use friendly terms, okay? Unique and interesting people are not weird or creepy. They are special, and we should thank them for broadening the horizons of our normally so close-minded world!" Nemich took hold of a clay model featuring a wingless dragon and studied it during the conversation.
"A commendable, albeit lofty goal." Quinn frowned, understanding.
"Yeah...So why'd you come to Sanctuary? I figured it was a place where I could meet more special people, and my sibs thought it was a great idea! Turned out to be the best decision of my life." Right, part MudWing. That's why he appears large and older—he must have been the bigwings of the group. Yet, a hybrid bigwings would surely never... Still a question to answer. Why? As if it wasn't obvious. Though, Quinn seemed an innocent, and therefore somewhat negligent, type.
"Have you ever heard of the Pirate?"
"Duh. Who hasn't heard of the Pirate? One of the most ruthless thieves to touch the ocean. Rumor has it he stole from the SeaWing queen herself! —Why? Did you have a run-in? Did he chase you out here? That's awful!" Nemichthys frowned and gave the hybrid a cold stare until he got the point. Quinkana froze. "N-n—Ne—"
"Nemichthys. The Pirate, The Atrocity, a snake. Whatever you wish to call me." They met in a silent stare.
There were many choices for what could happen right now. Nemich felt a threat to his safety, but not enough to where he would feel the need to prepare.
Of the many options this researcher had, he chose the most surprising. His was far from a smile, but also equally distant from a frown, instead a calm, inquisitive expression.
"How do you identify, Nemichthys? In previous studies, people similar to you were dubbed 'lindwurms', but if you are uncomfortable with this in any way, please let me know."
Just moving on, then? So be it.
"For your purposes, that is fine, yes." Quinkana snatched up a note-taking book of sorts as well as an ink quill. He quickly scribbled some things in. The exciteable dragon noticed Nemich's stare, and once again was overcome with nerves.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's a habit. Do you not like being studied like this? It's so rude of me. I knew it was too forward..."
"You seem to overanalyze many things. Have I shown you displeasure in any way?"
Perhaps I do look rather upset as a default. I suppose I have had little reason to smile for most of my life.
"Um, no, just—"
There came a knocking at the door. Nemichthys flinched; there was very little chance of another full body fitting in this small lab. Quinn came to the same conclusion and set down his materials. "I'll get it."
The lindwurm of the two had to tuck in further to allow him past, which of course resulted in another apology from his host. However, Nemich secretly did not mind this aspect of Quinn, his desire to do everything possible to not be offensive in some way. While it was overbearing, the mentality behind it proved a kind soul.
The door creaked open, and the long SeaWing within the lab was startled by a familiar voice.
"Hello, Quinn. I don't mean to intrude, but have you seen—oh!" Gentleheart faltered at the sight of him, as though she had seen a ghost. Nemichthys stared back, confused, but undaunted. While she had sounded confident earlier, the NightWing's facade crumbled. "I—I'm sorry. Hi."
Ah, yes. Two nervous wrecks. Can no one stand up and take charge around here?
"I...didn't want to disturb you guys. I'll go." She immediately began to retract.
"Well hang on a minute!" Quinn caught her forearm, a surprisingly forward gesture that could have been construed as violent by some. He likely was unaware. "Please, stay. I know there's not that much room, but if you wanted to see me, we can talk. It'll be like a friendly get-together!"
Friends? Nemich didn't think they were there yet. But maybe—hopefully—Quinkana would be right.
However, something changed in Gentleheart. After a bit more uncertain stammering, she narrowed her eyes confidently.
"Actually, I was perhaps hoping to speak with Nemichthys. Alone." Hm. A chance to patch things up, perhaps? He actually appreciated the thought. She met his eyes, and the lindwurm nodded, commending her newfound bravery. "We'll leave you to your business, Quinn."
The MudWing-SeaWing hybrid seemed regretful to have his time with Nemich cut short, but wished them well, avidly returning to his notes. What a peculiar fellow. But perhaps, in the future, an ally. Such things would be important.
Gentleheart led the way, and the SeaWing heaved himself along. He was starting to feel dry, and would need to return to the lake. However, he did not want to offend any further, especially considering that the dragoness had sought him out.
Clouds had arrived and smothered up the once promising sun. However, the atmosphere smelled of rain, which he could appreciate. Gentleheart was waiting on the ground below, watching with her almost permanently sad eyes.
A problem arose. Now how to descend the ladder...?
Fortunately, he realized what was easiest: just going back in reverse. Nemich dug his claws into the wood of the platform, and swung the rest of his lanky body off. The weight almost brought him tumbling down, but his hold was secure. Steadily, he rappelled his way back down the ladder one step at a time, length swinging in the stormy winds.
The long dragon ended up in a heap at the bottom, but he navigated out and stood ready (as much as one could consider him 'standing'). His acquaintance watched nervously, looking indecisive.
"Lead the way." She was spurred to action, and awkwardly plodded over towards the trees, seeking more privacy from the lab. Nemich hesitated, his old outlaw instinct at work, but eventually followed.
They traversed shrubbery for only a minute, two at most, before Gentleheart swiveled to face him. Her tail lashed with indecisive worry.
Nemichthys was startled when she suddenly collapsed to the ground. It was a foreign emotion, worry, but he now experienced it. What just happened?
He was about to check for signs of breathing, but a shaky sigh proved her consciousness. It was from this angle that he realized this unbecoming position of hers was intentional; prostrate as a means to express regret. Nemich held back a snarl. He would not be bowed to. Not by her.
Before he could make action, she spoke.
"Nemichthys...sir...please accept my remorse. I—I have treated you so poorly, and if you find it in your heart to forgive me—" The rest of the sentence was irrelevant. What a joke.
She was over-apologetic, just like Quinn, but something about her way of expressing sorrow ticked him off.
"Stand up." Soft, teary blue eyes peered up at him, confused at having been interrupted.
"W-Wha—"
"You have four legs. Use them." Cowed, Gentleheart slowly returned to a stand. For once, the lindwurm allowed his emotions to run freely. "You believe me cross? Spiteful? Have you such a fragile standing that you might faint at the first sign of confrontation? Can you not bear the thought of someone's contempt? Perhaps your words were not guarded. Yes, you assumed of my condition incorrectly. But for all that is good, do not attempt such a meager apology for the most minor of offenses!"
The NightWing was completely shell-shocked. Nemich's incredulity only grew. Did she truly believe herself so low? A dragon should bow because they have to, not because they feel it necessary. Strength is to be respected. "Where is your dignity? I am perhaps the lowliest of dragons, yet I do not grovel over a mere slip of the tongue! Appeasement is not a global rule, gentle as your heart may be. You cannot keep every last dragon in your good graces. So do not belittle yourself over everything!"
Nemich knew of himself well enough to know that if he did not seek a means to cool down, this would only escalate. Restraining his anger with a mere grunt, he whirled around in the assumed direction of his lake and stormed away.
Each step of his only limbs made fierce indentations in the soft dirt. How could she not understand that in the real world, 'sorry' is irrelevant?
The SeaWing was moving so quickly across the ground that his back half did not even slither, simply moving straight behind his surging forearms. However, the more he 'ran', the more energy he expelled, which gradually aided in calming down.
He was hardly upset with Gentleheart herself. Neither of their two interactions thus far had truly soured his opinion of the dragoness. However, he couldn't help but take offense to her completely unnecessary apology. As someone who had been frequently deprecated, it was practically an insult to see others do so unto themselves.
Sadly, he realized, she would likely not understand that, and he had instead only made things worse by yelling. However, it would defeat the purpose to try and return to make amends. That was what his entire rant was about.
He would have to leave it in her jurisdiction to figure out his point and consider communicating again. Hopefully, if there was a next time, it would be much less confrontational.
Nemich's intuition proved correct, as the familiar body of water came into view shortly. Rain droplets began to make their mark, ripples forming on the surface of the water. This would be a perfect time to continue expanding his home; the ground would be softened, and the rainwater would continue to fill the lake as it grew.
With a forbearing sigh, he returned to the cool water to resume his task.
The rain was soft and inviting, like a wreath of holly hung on the door.