"Where are you? You're quite the slippery little thing."
Nemichthys giggled to himself, unknowingly releasing many bubbles that alerted Cutlass to his location. She feigned ignorance, playing with her dragonet. He was still quite young yet; she wanted at least something pleasant for him to remember. Any day now, he would start growing older, and she would have to toughen him up for the cruelty the world would show him.
"Drat. I guess little Nemich has been spirited away. I suppose the tuna I had prepared for both of us will go unshared..."
As planned, a curious little head popped up out of the many small waterways weaving through the cove.
"Tuna!" It took him a half-second to realize the faux pas, and Cutlass put on a victorious smirk. So foolish and young.
As she went about gathering said fish, the SeaWing considered this very situation. Nemich would not be young forever. Even now, he was as long as her end-to-end. Their cove was very useful, with various tributaries that allowed him to swim around; he lacked bioluminescence, so Cutlass ensured he knew how to communicate on land.
But this cave was small, and the rivers too thin for fully-grown dragons. There would come a time when...
"You're the best, Mother."
She tensed and was filled with mixed emotions every time he used that phrase. The dragoness was well aware that she was not doing enough to constitute as a mother. But she had still given life to this poor creature, making it her responsibility.
Oh, Jackknife...why did we ever think it was a good idea...?
She sliced the fatty, slick fish in half with a foreclaw. It was Nemich's favorite, so she hunted for it, even if she hated the taste.
"Pardon, mother. Did you invite people to come and eat with us?" He was peering out of the cove's entrance. No.
"Swim, Nemichthys! Now!" She had raised him to not ask questions in a situation like this. The small lindwurm zipped out of their inlet and out into the ocean, faster than a sailfish. He may have been a sharp blue color, but moving at such speed, he could vanish in a second. He would be going to their other safe space, a kelp forest.
As indicated, Cutlass could see large glowing shapes emerging up from the depths. Three SeaWings then surfaced just outside the cove.
It was a gloomy, cloudy day, allowing cold sea breezes to accompany this tense moment.
Two were strangers, but appeared to be enforcement, with armor and strong builds. The third was her cousin Alga, an officer of the SeaWing monarchy.
The two relatives were somewhat at odds. There was no hatred involved, but Alga had known Jackknife and always suspected there was a dragonet in the mix. Hiding had worked so far, but he was naturally curious and was always snooping in her business. Like today.
"Here at your favorite hideaway again, Cutlass? Your seclusion would make one think you were hiding an animus." He was trying to mask this as a joke, but the searching inclination was clear.
"I'm entitled to my own business. What brings you here?" He frowned.
"I'm afraid that I too have a right to not tell you anything. But I will. —Queen Coral has requested a new census. The leader of a household must report their numbers." She couldn't yet tell if this was true or a tactic. The guards remained stoic and silent. Cutlass chose her words carefully.
"You know that I can no longer speak for Jack. Add one to your tally and leave me be." Alga marked something on a waterproof scroll and smiled at her. It was probably an effort to not appear so antagonistic.
"You look well. Everything alright?"
"There's nothing wrong." There was uncomfortable silence outside of some howling winds. There was likely a storm approaching. Be safe, little one.
He was just standing there, staring at her searchingly with a fake grin. "The weather is worsening, Alga. You should likely get on with your business quickly."
"...I concur. Thank you for your time." He gave one last look around the cove, squinting. Then, the three menacing dragons sank into the ocean, fading away just as they had arrived.
Cutlass stood there momentarily, feeling the strong winds tearing at her wings. Knowing they would no doubt stay to track her, she returned inside. Quietly and somberly, she carved out some pieces of the tuna and nibbled lightly.
Alga could be rather relentless, though she hoped this encroaching storm might dissuade him.
The SeaWing shuffled around for a few more minutes, trying to wait it out to avoid being followed. But the storm was worsening rapidly. And while the kelp forest was submerged, storm winds could wreak havoc on currents and underwater plants.
There was a point where she couldn't wait any longer—it was too great a risk. Reluctantly, but with all haste, Cutlass plunged into the rolling waves.
- -
"See you guys later!"
"Bye, Karner." Both she and Bract galloped off together, having been summoned to a Pantalans-only meeting by the acting queen of the LeafWings. Their strides matched in perfect unison.
Nemichthys smiled to himself; their chemistry was plainly obvious. He wondered if they had a future together.
On the other hand, the remaining two dragons did not have such a relationship. Things were still strenuous at best, and Nemich was considering how to extend an olive branch.
As of now, Gentleheart was currently sitting on the bank, keeping her gaze vigilant. After that mysterious incident of hers, the NightWing was more flighty and constantly looking around. This had him hard-pressed to try and be a better friend, but approaching the subject was proving to be awkward.
At the very least, they were talking to each other now, but that opening up was chiefly made possible by the Pantalans. Now, it was just kind of awkward. There's a time when I need to make a choice. I suppose now works.
"How are you feeling?" She flinched, caught off guard by the sudden, deep question.
"W-what? I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?" Gentleheart was stepping back and forth, her talons clenching as though she was trying to grab something. There was only grass, which confused him.
"You are clearly anxious. Did something else occur? Were you once more affronted? You may entrust such things to me." Nemich was attempting to use more conservational language, though this latest attempt was of course a failure.
She noticeably released some anxiety, shoulders and tail dropping.
"No, not that...Nemichthys, I've...been thinking about a while back." That, yes. He was grateful to address this.
"Please, by all means. Speak your truth. This is free space." Gen's soft blue eyes sank, staring at her silver claws, so he waited patiently for her to regain confidence. The dragoness stammered and stuttered, looking as though she were trying to bite something invisible.
"I, well, I...may have overreacted. I suppose I was raised in a strict, perfection-oriented way...it makes me want to make up for every little thing. Being so self-critical was unnecessary, and I should thank you for helping me see that."
Nemichthys could see exactly where she was coming from—and that's what made him shake his head sadly. She was still bashing herself for everything.
"No, Gentleheart. No. I am at fault. I understand that you are kind and caring, but you shouldn't express gratitude to someone who has wronged you. I wished to see you have more self-respect, but I see that my admonishment only worsened things. Please, in turn, accept my humble apologies."
Now, feeling it was appropriate, he dipped his head respectfully. This left her stunned once more. "I admire your empathy. It is a gift." Gen managed to stagger up another response.
"A-alright. ...But one thing. Here's my advice now. You don't need to start yourself below, Nemichthys. Placing yourself at a lower status to others is only affecting you, and negatively at that. Believe me, you don't need to earn someone's respect to be accepted. Isn't Sanctuary a perfect example? Just...just let life happen. And don't you be so hard on yourself either. What does it matter however other people look at you or say hello?"
It was much harder for her to put strength and purpose in the words, but the NightWing's honest opinion rang true. Nemichthys thought deeply.
Was he doing that sort of thing? Self-sabotage? Internalizing society's low opinions of him and working pointlessly hard?
He thought back to arriving at Sanctuary. Crawling through the mud, on the brink of death, defenseless and pathetic.
Was it so simple that he could just ask for help, for companionship, for love...
...and then receive it?
"Teach me how to swim." That snapped him out of those thoughts very quickly. "P-please?" They shared an awkward stare, one waiting confusedly and the other flabbergasted.
Just as with Karner, he was suddenly aware of the dragoness's beauty. She was a glimmering darkness, the abyssal sea of nighttime laced with moonlight. Her delicate softness belied a true strength, hiding deep within.
"Be advised," he said eventually, recalling there was still a conversation at hand. "My method of travel is rather unorthodox. You won't be learning how to swim as taught by normal folk—"
"I don't care. I want to know how you experience the world." Nemichthys straightened, curling up so they were at eye level. Around them, Sanctuary was quiet. All was patient. The Pantalan dragons all in a meeting, the normal residents awaiting the outcome of the Queen's summit.
Meanwhile, two dragons stood alone, watching each other. Thinking, considering. Trying very hard to keep in any random thoughts that might suddenly become words, such as—
"You are magnificently beauteous."
Nemich flinched. He had not intended to say this aloud. Nor did he have the slightest clue what thought process it came from or what emotion he hoped to convey. This was mortifying.
As was most in character for her, Gen blushed furiously, but refrained from turning away. There were a few more moments.
"...Thanks. You as well."
Nothing more came of it. After recovering from the confusion (which took longer than expected) Nemich calmly suggested they begin lessons, and the duo moved to the lake. That was it. No discussion of making such out-of-place comments.
As both of them waded into the water, he made sure to keep a watchful eye on Gen. Yes, it was still daytime with decent weather, and the lake was far from deep or vast.
But it is incredibly easy to lose track of someone in the dark of the sea.
- -
Why was it so incredibly easy to lose track of someone in the dark of the sea?
Cutlass grit her teeth, flashing her scales intermittently as she wove through tangling, entrapping kelp. This was her third sweep of the area, their chosen rendezvous in the event of an emergency.
No sign of Nemichthys.
It was incredibly dark. The storm was in full force, and while SeaWings received protection so far beneath the waves, they would still feel its effects. Every few moments, Cutlass could feel a strong current throw her slightly off balance.
But she was a talented, experienced swimmer, and a heavier adult dragon. Not a young, spindly little lindwurm who would be thrown around in a tempest like this.
'I'm here,' she said, using the limited Aquatic vocabulary she had taught her son. 'It's Mother.'
Her own carefulness was working against her here; she had instructed Nemichthys to stay hidden until he could visually confirm her presence. Under no circumstances would he respond to Aquatic, in the event that an unsavory character would use it as a tool.
The chance of finding each other in these conditions was abysmally low. But Cutlass still tried; oh, would she try. At the very least, there were no other sea creatures here. All had been wise enough to flee the area before the torrent began.
As much as she hated to admit it, this was a time she would have preferred to still be with Jack. He was the strongest swimmer she had ever known, and by far the most observant.
But he was also a wad of scum so afraid of his reputation as to abandon a family in need. Even if he were here, she could never trust him to find Nemichthys, let alone care for him.
It was nearly impossible to decipher with the constant brushing and tangling of kelp, but for a brief second, Cutlass felt a slightly different texture graze her tail. Something softer. She whipped around, flaring her lights for vision's sake.
Oh, never in a million moons.
By a pure, utterly remarkable stroke of luck, she had encountered a lindwurm, clutching tightly to a rod of kelp by winding his entire body around it like ivy. The plant creaked and bowed, being tossed around in the currents. He had to have been terrified!
Cutlass swiftly plunged forward to enter her dragonet's line of sight. In a brief period of calm, he opened his little, brave green eyes and perked. In reality, he seemed fine, hardly shaken up.
"Come, little dragon," she said Aquatically, offering her tail so he may hold on and not be separated. Tiny claws tickled her scales, until soon that feeling was all over her tail with a similar wrapping. Cutlass splayed out her wings and began the return swim. Slower this time, for safety.
It seemed the storm was calming. There were fewer disruptions, and the sky was lightening in the billowing cloth that was the surface above them. "You are safe now." She had to choose her flashes carefully for what little she had taught him. "We will go home."
They traveled on; it was a relatively short swim, but one quite diverse. The kelp transitioned to a reef of coral, flooding with curious fish returning from their hiding places. A steep, ominous drop-off loomed farther along; the underwater homes of most SeaWings were within the abyss, but much farther south near the palace.
Instead, Cutlass remained in the middling depths, with her son, the partial gift and partial curse that he was.
Suddenly, without much of a prompt, she felt a lurch in the water, and the warm coil around her tail vanished. Panic shot through her spine quickly. She could not cry his name, so she improvised with a large, bright, full-body flicker. The SeaWing spun around, truly afraid. Where could he have gone?
Cutlass was then assailed by an odd, high-pitched whining echoing in the water. It sounded like something moving very fast.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted it. A very large shark, a species she was unfamiliar with, was dangerously near. It lunged forward out of the darkness, intending to surprise her—!
The whistling climaxed with a fierce whoosh, and she saw what was perhaps a small blue shape dash vertically—right through the predator.
The shark stuttered and shut down almost immediately, losing its momentum. It's lifeless jaws hung as the unmistakeable dark taint of blood drifted in the water. Slowly, the fish turned belly-up, and began to sink to the sandbar below.
It had happened so quickly, almost impossibly. Most sharks would not deal with dragons, but that had been a large specimen...and she had been relatively alone. But clearly, something turned the tide. Was...was that...?
Confirming her suspicions, a familiar long body fluttered back down to tread before her. His petite, far-too-innocent face was stained black. He could not speak, but the intent was clear: Nemichthys had noticed the threat first, and did what he felt was necessary to protect his mother.
Spearing a shark through the brain with speed alone?
Who have I brought into this world?
- -
"There's something different about them."
"Yeah."
Gentleheart felt warm inside as she watched Karner and Bract, who were currently playing some sort of game with the youngest Pantalan refugees. They were the kindest of folks, and almost perfect for handling dragonets, but what stood out to her was the way their tails subtly touched and twirled every time they were near each other.
There was lots of chemistry there, and Gen would not be surprised to see something come of it. Meanwhile, on her own part, she was struggling to come to terms with the emotional turmoil within.
Lessons with Nemichthys had been going well enough for a few days, and there were no other odd exchanges like the first one. That said, she still got that fuzzy feeling whenever he appeared happy, and she couldn't help but cast aside her troubles around him. Sage claimed that it was an honest romantic interest, while Quinn thought that maybe she was just more appreciative.
Either way, the NightWing was hopelessly blundering in this regard, unable to hold conversation very long or, moons forbid, bring up said emotions. She would rather keep Nemich in the dark—if he hadn't already made notice of her obvious embarrassment and reservation.
"They'll be great together. ...Care for a walk?" She blinked awkwardly in surprise, but in an effort to be more sure of herself than previous, she sought a response.
"That sounds nice." After all, they had been in the water a while, and it seemed that every interaction centered around this lake. A change of scenery wouldn't hurt.
He led the way, and Gentleheart actually tried to keep pace with him this time, rather than hovering anxiously behind. It was getting a little easier each day to just loosen up a bit and have faith.
They meandered through some forest and shrubbery. She shuffled a little closer; the strange attack would not soon be forgotten.
As they walked, Gen noticed his slither. It wasn't very pronounced, but there was a sway to his movement. Living that way...it must be so difficult. He must be so strong to do so day by day; to leave his element and join us on dry land, with us having freedoms he will never know.
Nemichthys was truly someone to admire. Even when she first encountered him in that forest, he was never the type to give up. He would never back down from something challenging, as she had done many times before.
That first day...
"Nemichthys?"
They both halted quickly.
"Yes?"
"How did you get here?"
This proved to be a mistake, as his pleasant demeanor dissipated. His sharp green eyes moved straight to the ground—it wasn't a long journey. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to slide forward.
She followed, growing nervous again. Had she tarnished whatever bond they were building?
Their destination happened to be quite near; a hill, peeking up above the trees and allowing a splendid view of the sky. It was late afternoon over Sanctuary, with the first hint of evening colors making themselves known.
Nemich slowly dragged himself up the hill, settling introspectively at the crest. Gen followed suit, making sure to leave ample distance.
Both sat in silence as a wind played with the trees. It was still a very pleasant atmosphere, but there was a small sense of foreboding. Every time she sought a glance of the lindwurm, he was looking elsewhere, solemn.
"You were the one who found me, then. I suppose I should have put that together. Shriveled up, caked in mud. A little earthworm. ...Not my proudest moment." So...was he...mad? It didn't sound that way. "Then I suppose you deserve my thanks. I would not have made it out alive any longer."
"Certainly. It was the right thing to do..."
Another uncomfortably quiet stretch. Steadily, she felt more comfortable, edging closer to her long friend. This hill was quite comfortable, suitable for a meal.
Moons, would someone think we're on a date? Well, I suppose we're not having the most splendid of conversations that would qualify.
"I was hunted."
The words hung like a heavy weight, and the potent empathy dealt another powerful blow. This was a dark truth indeed. Her desire to provide comfort superseded any nerves, and the NightWing extended her arm. After deliberation, Nemichthys took hold, firmly but not demanding. "It was not quite a painful or strenuous time as it was a stressful one. As you likely know, I have been accused of many crimes in the Kingdom of the Sea. I, personally, believed my actions to be within my rights of striving for survival, but of course, as an outcast, I had little means to defend or deny my case. So, just as they planned, I turned to the criminal lifestyle. Fleeing bounty hunters, evading capture, and trying to hunt all the while.
"Amidst these 'travels' I happened across knowledge of the new development that was Sanctuary, and the refuge it offered. As such, I traveled inland via the Diamond Spray and other rivers. This, of course, led me through the MudWing Kingdom, which was evidently also swamped with bounties and arrest warrants. More fleeing, more swimming. Less abundance of food, so I was running on very little. Following my supposed location of this village, I made an initial attempt to traverse land. That is when I happened across a kind, life-saving soul. ...And you know the rest."
Hmm. Yes, all of great interest. Unbeknownst to her, Gentleheart had edged even closer, subconsciously trying to comfort him further. That was no easy life to relive.
"I'm very grateful to have found you, Nemich. You've taught me many things."
"Just as you have me, Gen. May I call you Gen?"
"Duh. We're friends. But I still think 'Mickey' isn't quite right." Woah. I did it. I just made a joke!
Even better, she got a small chuckle from him! This was going great!
Of course, any wise person could tell that this would not last.
An ominous rustling alerted Gentleheart to some presence in the bushes to their right. Her dark, dim blue eyes tried to seek it out, and a vague shadow seemed to hover around in the forest below.
Another one? Or real this time...?
Wait. Multiple shadows. Dragons. Spreading out, circling around them. Oh no. No, not this again. Can I stop this?
It was not chains this time, and rather than striking by surprise, the entities bided their time.
"N-Nemichthys! Look! Strange people, everywhere!" He was deaf to her cries, standing still, almost completely motionless.
Why?! What is wrong with my head?!
Come on, wake up. You did it last time, somehow. This isn't real.
Even as the foes emerged, they looked the same: creatures of darkness, vague and indecipherable. She shuddered, finding that some held weapons.
"Why are you here? Leave us alone!" They responded by slowly creeping closer, scaling the hill.
Out of options, Gen spewed flame at the nearest one. That had worked before. But not now; the apparition remained, raising its weapon. The others did likewise.
Any notion that this was an illusion disappeared, even if it was true. Her fear overcame reason, and now she was panicking.
What do I do? What do they want?!
"Stay away! Please." She was met with faceless, cold silence. Oddly, the beings never attacked her. They were just staring...
Gen heard a shing of metal that froze her heart mid-beat. A small, pained gasp came from back on the peak.
A pit seemed to open inside her heart, draining it of life. No. Nonononono—
She whirled, and the truth was confirmed. A shadowy spear stuck out into the air, spearing Nemichthys straight through. He remained remarkably calm, seemingly resigning himself to fate.
Gen, meanwhile, was lost. Any thoughts just wouldn't come.
It was chillingly real to her. So, so real.
The NightWing ran, stumbling, up to his side. His breathing was rapid, time short. She couldn't bear to observe the wound. Now here was the realization that he had been hunted.
"N-Nem..."
"You're dreaming, Gen," he said, sounding completely normal despite the sight of blood starting to gurgle in his throat. "We're fine. There's no other people here." Despite this call, she could not leave this demented mindscape. He was dying. Right in front of her. It was too much.
Again! I waited for too long! I never even tried! Now—now he's gone before I ever...
In a final effort, Gentleheart tried to salvage it. To give her gratitude to this impressive, strong, beautiful dragon. Before he would slip away, just as he would have in their first meeting.
"Nemichthys! You're—you're an incredible person. The life you led, traumatic, impossible even, and yet you still turn that around to be a wise friend. Your courage, tenacity—I could never! That's why, I-I love you! I want to know you and comfort you and be comforted and be known! B-but now—I've been too much a fool to never tell you, and now I'll never—"
Her breath hitched when there was another sound of weaponry tearing through flesh. Oh, irony. Cruel and unfeeling...
Her blood dribbled to the grass, lathering over his. There was no pain—it was imaginary—but the mental agony made her very well feel that death was near.
Gen pitched, landing inches from Nemich's snout. At the very least, she could watch him drift away in peace before doing so herself...
- -
"Sage, are you in? We need some help."
"Yup, I'm here—oh! What happened?"
"Did she tell you about that lucid nightmare she had a while back?"
"Right. I've been searching for a diagnosis, but it just doesn't make sense."
"She had another one and collapsed. Something about strange dragons surrounding both of us. She was acting like I had been mortally wounded."
"Oh, Gen...here. I'll see what I can do."
"...Did—did she also mention...?"
"What's that?"
"Nothing, ignore me. I just hope we can figure this out; it's quite worrying."
"I concur. I would normally attribute this to mysterious NightWing powers, but she hasn't demonstrated any of the normal tells or signs. Perhaps some mental disconnect..."
"Please, keep working on that when you don't have patients. This one was seemingly much worse than the previous. I shudder to imagine what will happen if it continues. The world needs people like her. She has to overcome."
"Let's hope so."