The ultimate way to avoid a sedentary lifestyle, growing old and brittle?
Stretch.
"R!" Beryl exclaimed, watching with starry-eyed excitement.
Nemichthys obliged, forming his long body into the letter as indicated. It was really hard, and hurt his spine like nothing else, but the benefits of strengthening one's flexibility were immeasurable.
He held this pose for a few seconds until feeling a satisfying pop around three-fifths down his body. There were some kinks in this rope of scales that he couldn't even find at times, but these exercises always helped.
"W!" Another transformation. They were almost through the whole alphabet at this point. This one was easy enough, though.
"J!" Of course. The most intricate of dragon letters. Or rather, the most difficult to replicate.
Slowly and cautiously, Nemich placed all of the weight on his shoulders and triceps, as though he was being pile-driven. Then, inch by inch, his body snaked up like a tower. It was a sluggish process, and one that got more difficult as it progressed. He had to take lots of moments to breathe and just hold the spot. Slowly and steadily...
He was about one-fifth away from being fully extended when two tiny paws sucker-punched him in the exposed underbelly. The surprisingly powerful blow took the air right out of his lungs, and like a tree, every last inch of Nemichthys fell with a boom akin to thunder.
OW.
"Beryl! I can't believe you!"
"I can't believe me either!"
"Show some respect! You asked him to do this with you!"
"Precisely. The risk of falling over was in our contract agreement. I can't be held responsible."
As per usual, despite his good intentions, Bract could never win an argument with the young SandWing. Regardless of superior reasoning or logic, he couldn't hold a candle to the Law Master in the making.
While Nemich wanted to see and enjoy the humor in the situation, the dull, throbbing pain in all three dragon-lengths of his back wouldn't go away very quickly.
"Are you okay, Mickey?" He appreciated Karner's gentle touch, perusing him for lasting injury. The SeaWing sucked away some pain through his teeth.
"Maybe some internal bruising, but for all that counts, I'm great." It was another cloudy, gloomy day with some light showers evident in the atmosphere. This didn't bother the quartet by the lake, who were spending the time playing games like these and just generally socializing. It was entirely new, but incredible at the same time. If the Pirate could see him now...
'Mickey', as he was now being called, tiredly flipped back upright. At the very least, that was one advantage he had over tortoises.
During their lull, he relaxed upon the bank, observing Sanctuary. Just recently, a summit of every queen in Pyrrhia had taken place to discuss the revelation of Pantala and the occurrences therein. Such a thing was monumental, but secretive, so Nemich just stuck to his lake and his friends. One thing though, had made its way down the rumor chain that was of particular interest.
Humans—formerly scavengers—were now to be recognized as intelligent, sentient beings continent-wide. He assumed some sort of revelation had been made, and perhaps Daffodil even had something to do with it. While it was likely fascinating for lots of dragons, (Quinn had nearly fainted for the second time hearing the news, and he was still in his lab trying to process Pantalan dragons) Nemich was once again indifferent. If these humans learned to communicate with him, that was fine. If they didn't, that was fine. He simply did not care.
As for Sanctuary, things had calmed down. Many of the Pantalans were assimilating nicely; Karner and Bract bonding with Nemichthys of all people was evidence enough of that. The new comfort did not ease anxieties, however. Bract would often stare at his reflection in the water for long intervals, his uncovered eye coldly gazing into itself. Karner was always checking over her shoulders, even though her bubbly attitude disguised trauma. He worried for them, truly. If stopping the outbreak on Pantala was in his agency, he would wish to do his part.
Newfound sympathy...a good sign.
Nemich detached from his thoughts and raised his head from the shore. Beryl was flapping around; her flying skills were getting better, but she would need endurance to properly travel. Bract had taken the time to rest, up against a rock. And—oh.
Upon swiveling his head to see Karner, he met her bright eyes mere inches from his snout. The SeaWing was slightly unnerved, but did not draw away out of curiosity. That said, it was impossible to decipher her current emotions.
After a moment's deliberation, the foreigner pitched forward, and Nemich found himself in the first loving embrace of his life.
He had observed other dragons do things such as this, but receiving? Never. Cutlass had never. Perhaps she hadn't known how. That didn't stop Karner. She was wrapped around just under his arms, allowing him to reciprocate if so desired.
Weird, unusual feelings bubbling up in his lungs made Nemich hesitate. Unsure of what to do, he just rested his talons on her shoulders. Four butterfly-esque wings fluttered in a fierce wind, but her hold stayed strong.
For a moment, nothing. Just her warmth against his scales. It was...
"Thank you, Mickey. Thank you so much."
He felt an instinct to draw up the rest of his body and coil it around her, but quickly suppressed the idea. Much too forward, and no doubt creepy. Instead, he just attempted to mimic the kind SilkWing and bring his arms around.
There was another strange feeling that came with a hug. The stress and effort needed in the rest of his spine to be upright like this was...gone. Now someone else was supporting his upper body. A breath of relief managed to escape, and he felt a compulsion to respond.
"No. Thank you, Karner."
Their position lasted a few moments longer, and then the blue-purple dragoness pulled away with a warm smile.
"I love this place. No one sees any reason to stomp on the tails of others. There's virtually no hatred at all. Everyone is so accepting!" Nemich knew this was not entirely so. Whether she was addressing all of Pyrrhia or Sanctuary, there were still some mental exceptions. Everyone has an initial view of someone else, whether they try to keep an open mind or not.
However, he did not take offense. Karner was new to this place, and the level of friendliness and cooperation must have been drastically different than on Pantala. Thinking of which...
"You imply a dark alternative. If I may ask...was there some difference of society on your home continent?" As he had feared, a dismal frown appeared on her normally chipper face. After a moment's hesitation, she gave an answer.
"I'm a SilkWing, Bract's a LeafWing. But there's also HiveWings. I probably shouldn't generalize, but most of them—nearly all of them are a bunch of jerks.
"In particular, the queen is nasty. She has this creepy thing where she can control every HiveWing at once and have them do her bidding. It's horrifying! See, some long time ago, the HiveWings suddenly destroyed almost all of the trees they could, and tried to exterminate every last LeafWing. The survivors held out and hid in dense jungle—that's where Bract is from.
"But the SilkWings feared the power of the Hive, and our queen turned over the tribe to Wasp. From then on, every SilkWing has always held a lower class and rank than any HiveWing. Treatment was just...awful. Most worked spinning webs or as servants, and there's all these crazy dumb rules we had to follow. But you know, we're free from that now, so I'd rather not think about it any more."
Nemichthys nodded to alleviate any pressure for her to go on. He was still processing the information. ...One tribe, better than another? He could understand loyalty, but a full-on superiority complex was too much. Perhaps it was similar to IceWing isolation, or NightWing haughtiness, but enslavement? That was a level that should never be crossed. Simple dragon's rights violations.
And Nemich knew what violations of rights looked like.
"Karner, I—I know it is gratuitous for me to apologize to you for something far beyond me, but I struggle to think of another response. I simply mean to showcase empathy."
Clear, concise, to the point, and while kind, he didn't break down or bow to Karner because he felt so bad about it. There was a certain dragon who could follow that example.
"Thanks, Mick. You're alright, really. It was the status quo for so long that prior to the sudden revolt and evacuation, I had almost accepted it as a way of life. But I'm still glad to be here. Free. With you."
The last bit at the end elicited some emotions, some Cutlass had not taught him about, and thus those he couldn't identify. Odd, warm ones. Beautiful ones. Some delicate ones.
It was at this moment that Nemich suddenly felt himself enraptured by the intricacy of her silky, billowing wings. It was like he had just now fully realized their beauty and detail. All of the colors, the patterning, every last blend of shades.
Despite the hubbub of various new dragons arriving, Sanctuary was quiet today. Everyone was likely elsewhere, attending to the visiting queens, so it was noticeable when Winter emerged from some trees, approaching the lake.
Noticing two pairs of eyes staring him down, the former prince offered a wave.
"Hey. Just grabbing a fish." Nemich's attention was then drawn to Beryl, who was practicing a complicated flying maneuver. Despite her failure to perfect it, the little dragonet's movements were still fluid and graceful, and at such a young age.
He wished to join her up there.
Karner yawned, and sent 'Mickey' a visual cue that she would be joining Bract for a nap. Both of them were having a hard time sleeping. Perhaps there was some sort of time-difference being on a different continent. The ornate SilkWing drifted over to the boulder; she looked unused to sleeping on the ground, but curled up all the same.
Realizing the lull in activity for the day, Nemichthys was about to slip back into the lake, if not for noticing another new presence.
Context alone filled him in. The new dragon's scales and build were obviously those of an IceWing, and one look at her adornments immediately signaled 'queen'. Being solitary, he did not know the names of the queens, but she seemed fairly young. There had to have been a change in command recently.
Her goal was Winter, clearly, but as the queen opened her mouth to speak, she by chance glanced over and saw a lindwurm, body and all.
"Moons!" The dragoness sputtered, voice confirming her age. Her deep blue eyes (a familiar color that stirred something in Nemich) widened for a second, but quickly corrected. "...You startled me." Strangely enough, he didn't feel bothered at all. He was weird, and there was no changing that. This was likely due to his beneficial interactions with the Pantalans that had lifted his spirits.
"I tend to startle people, Your Highness." It was a jest in good fun, though his guest was still reasonably unsettled.
The commotion alerted Winter, who reluctantly gave up his snack. He came to address the queen. The Pirate listened just long enough to learn of her name as Snowfall before leaving them to their business.
Nemichthys wasn't entirely sure what to do without disturbing those at rest—but there was one thing. He slithered over to the boulder (where both of his friends had fallen asleep by now) and slowly moved around. After three rings, he got his upper body on top of the rock, forming a loose, but caring hold around Karner and Bract with all of his long body. He then got comfortable.
Beryl, clearly curious, swooped back down to whisper.
"How can you all be so tired? Don't you wanna fly with me, Mick?"
"I would love to, if only I knew how. I am just as satisfied with resting here."
"I'm not. You guys are boring. But hey, at least you're a lot nicer than when you first came out of that lake."
...Really?
As the overactive dragonet fluttered off to go do dragonet things, Nemich considered that statement deeply.
Had he changed so quickly? Was that the power of Sanctuary? What is my true self?
With his source of joy pulled close and his brain swimming with muddy thoughts, the unusual SeaWing closed his eyes, rain-less clouds above.
- -
Finally. Now I've got it. Foolproof.
Mental reaffirmation was not helping.
Gentleheart was still internally a nervous wreck. It was a constant battle to put it down, because she knew that Nemichthys would probably get mad again if she let it show. It wasn't time to falter now; she had already gotten this far.
Just a few steps farther through these bushes, and she would be back at the infamous lake for the first time in several days. During that time, she had gone on a mental journey of trying to reinvent herself, which was largely unsuccessful. Gen was a naturally placid worrier.
Instead, the NightWing just ended up crafting tons of scenarios for how their next interaction might go, and planning out her responses. After some practice, she could stop relying on the blades of grass for confidence. The only remaining step was to get out there and repair that which she had so foolishly broken.
Her silvery claws drifted against a tree for a moment. The bark was very complex and broken in places. Like all dragons. He's broken, and so am I, she reminded herself. Neither could be completely blamed for their shortcomings, but they both still had duties to resolve these things.
If all went well, that resolution would come today.
Rather than exposing herself, Gen used her newfound courage to peer out from the bushes to survey the scene. Winter and the Queen of the IceWings seemed to be having a brief chat, and the presence of the latter was enough to convince her to stay back. It was found that Snowfall was rather...antsy around NightWings.
However, behind that, three figures were curled about a rock, and one was familiar. What is he doing with those Pantalan dragons, I wonder? The position of the three seemed quite intimate and friendly. Did they manage what I failed to do?
Worse yet, the trio was resting, perhaps even asleep. This would only get worse if she attempted to disturb such a thing. Gen heaved a deep sigh, realizing her courage was for nothing. It was a good effort, but now she had even more things to consider.
The dragoness was about to glumly return home, but backing up suddenly proved difficult. Her legs wouldn't move quite right.
One glance down confirmed the issue: both pairs of her legs were wound tightly together with bolas.
"Wait, wha—" A third rope suddenly tied her maw, restricting the ability to process, let alone call for help. Wings also suffered from a chain that was quickly tied off. She gave a last attempt, lashing her tail to and fro, but it found no target.
An effort to hobble and turn around resulted in her dropping to the gentle grass. My parents were always afraid of this. I never thought the world could be like this, and yet.
Why? Who? It was all out of nowhere.
Doom of potential outcomes from this attack rushed through her head unimpeded. Abused? Enslaved? Killed and eaten?
Moons, why...Just stay calm. You'll figure it out.
Whoever the aggressor was, they were practically invisible. It was too clever, doing this in all of the shrubbery. I stayed hidden too long.
With impressive strength, cold claws wrapped around her midsection and began to lift the disgraced NightWing away. There was still no way to figure out who was doing this.
No one had noticed. She was alone in this. Gentleheart couldn't help but cry. It was pitiful, but what else does one do?
No. Not now. I fought to get here. I achieved my happiness. Who is this creep to take that away? I'm worth more than this.
What would Nemichthys be thinking if he saw this happen? What about Mom and Dad, even?
It was time to fight. Her heart was gentle, but wound that heart, and it was an entirely different conversation.
An unknown strength surged within her now, and the hurriedly tied ropes snapped. In a moment, her flames lit up all of the brush, and the hold on her vanished as soon as it had appeared. Gen swept her maw all about, but outside of the fire, all was dead quiet. After a second, she stopped, breathing heavily due to her inexperience with using the flame.
I did it?
Just like that, the placid Gentleheart had reversed a situation of almost guaranteed demise. Could one dragon be that powerful? Was this her suppressed potential?
Ah, right. The flames surrounding her.
The NightWing sucked in a breath of bravery, and plunged through the wall of orange light in her assumed direction of the lake. The return of light on her face was splendid, but she did not stop moving; who knows who would be pursuing?
She was clambering towards the rock and its three sleeping residents, as numbers was always the best deterrent of attack. The two IceWings were long gone. However, she misjudged her footing, and slipped on the bank. It was a dragon-made part of it, meaning the edge had not developed into a sandy shore, so she plunged into the surprisingly deep water with a splash.
I just can't catch a break!
Gen was not accustomed to swimming, and floundered around in the murkiness for a second. Stress was still in high amount as she feared further attack. Then, into her blurry and foggy water vision emerged a bright, ultramarine blue. It grabbed her claws with just the right amount of firmness, and she was then pulled to the proper shoreline.
She scrambled out of the water, gasping for breath and trying to restore her vision.
"Be careful," she called, still practically blind. "There's a—a someone that's after me! I managed to escape for now!"
"Stay still." His soothing, consistent voice halted her despite the current situation. "Slow down. Hold yourself—and observe."
Okay, okay, yes... Gentleheart opened her eyes, clarity restored. She was a little surprised to see irises of a sharp green meeting the gaze. It had been a while since they'd talked. No doubt he would berate her for acting so crazy—
"Are you okay?" Her mind took a double-take. What. Was that...kindness?
"N-no! There's someone that's trying..."
Her sentence died. This was just getting too weird.
The bushes she'd just fled from, the site of her harrowing experience, was not on fire. In fact, the foliage was just as it had been, no burns or scorch marks. Nor, consequently, was there any sign of a mysterious dragon-napper. That's ridiculous. I felt it. It happened! Is this some mockery of traumatic experience, because kidnapping is not a joke!
"Hey. You're stressed out. Come rest." And now this was happening too. A 'softer' form of Nemichthys? Was this imaginary too?
What an awful day.
Gen did her best to cast her crisis aside, and she joined the lindwurm and his two buddies, who were now awake and watching her curiously.
"Hi there!" The purple-y SilkWing chirped, equipping an impossibly wide smile. "My name's Karner! Do you know Mickey too?"
Mickey. Because Ne-mich-thys.
This is definitely a dream.
"We're acquainted," the SeaWing responded casually, though his expression hid some...regret? Melancholy?
"I-I'm Gentleheart," she stammered, still trying not to laugh about 'Mickey'.
"Call me Bract," the LeafWing said. He wore a patch over one eye, which wasn't common for most dragons; either it would further obstruct their vision regardless of poor eyesight, or if they lost an eye, they would want to showcase their battle scars.
Gen glanced around one final time as her anxiety faded. There was truly nothing. Perhaps some terribly realistic nightmare?
"Hey, what happened?" Karner asked softly, eyes radiating an innocent kindness. The NightWing wondered if this dragoness had been fully exposed to the world's cruelties. Though, she didn't know much about Pantalan dragons...
She couldn't think of any response outside of honesty.
"Well, one moment I was calmly standing around. Then I could have sworn that I was attacked and bound in rope. Someone was trying to carry me away, so I fought back and set all those bushes on fire." She gestured likewise. "But...as you can clearly see, none of it happened. Somehow."
They all exchanged glances. I sound so crazy. Am I?
"Don't discount it," Bract suddenly interjected, surprising her. "Terrible things can happen to anyone, whether it's noticeable or not. We're here for you, Gentleheart."
"I agree." Nemichthys warmly shook out his long body, and it was for the first time that Gen noticed he had no visible ears like most dragons. Nor did he have SeaWing bioluminescence, though his blue body was bright enough.
And it was also the first time she saw his smile.
The fact alone that he was able to make such an expression blew her mind. Something about these Pantalan dragons must have truly changed him.
Moons, that thing drew her in. It was so cliché and foolish of her yes, but her heart felt ready to explode at the sight of Mickey seeming...happy.
Gee. From razing my potential kidnapper to being so delicate about something like this. Shouldn't I pick a side?
Wait a minute.
Why was she so interested in his smile? Why was she so warm and embarrassed inside? I don't—no, surely I don't...
"Here. I'll round up some fish and we can chat." As Nemichthys passed towards the lake, he brushed her leg with his tail-half as a friendly gesture. A cold shiver and a warm blush clashed within her. Gen couldn't quite take heed of both Pantalans saying they were vegetarian because she was at war with her tumultuous emotions.
Okay, slow down, Gen. You just prevented an imaginary kidnapping, tried to reinvent your personality, and discovered a crush on a guy who's basically just been cold and abrasive to you until now.
What are you doing?!
This was just a little too fast. She needed processing time. ...Maybe some roasted fish over chatting with friends could indeed help with that.
As Mickey dipped into the water to grab the meal (just for two), Gentleheart tried to pay due attention to Karner and Bract. They seemed like very agreeable, enlightened folks.
The LeafWing among them removed a satchel she hadn't noticed before, and he removed a talonful of Pyrrhian fruits, likely taken from Sanctuary's decently-stocked food stores.
"We'll have these then. They're more delicious than I imagined!"
"Ooh!" Karner grasped wildly at the grapes and shoveled in quite a few, expressing much different meal etiquette than Gen was accustomed to. If you would consider chewing open-mouthed while smacking loudly as etiquette.
In a time far shorter than she had predicted, Nemichthys shot back out of the lake like an arrow from a bow, landing at her side with but one leap. Three moderately-sized trout were still wriggling in his grasp. The Pantalans were noticeably unsettled by the 'still alive' bit.
"Oh, I'm sorry—should I prep these elsewhere? Would that make you both more comfortable?" Wow. This was almost an entirely new dragon. They both stammered around a response, no doubt conflicted.
"I'm not hungry," Gen blurted, which was only true in part. "You can throw them back for now." Mickey shrugged, and his catch was set free to live another day.
"Well then. Shall we?"
They all gathered around in a loose circle, and Bract offered more fruits, which she accepted more readily.
The four pseudo-friends talked into the early evening, sharing stories, recounting experiences, and in some cases, coming to new realizations.
Yet still, ever present in Gentleheart's mind, was the lindwurm at her side, and the way their scales just barely grazed together.
