So, it's been a while
Seriously though, I'm really sorry about the wait on this one, I've had a lot of things going on since the beginning of the year and I haven't had much time to work in this. I do promise it's always being worked on though, unless I realise while planning this I left in some massive plot hole I can't fill, I'll do my best to see this through to competition.
Another thing I keep forgetting to say, apologies I don't respond to comments often if at all. I've always been anxious about that kind of thing but I promise I do read them all and I appreciate all of you input, including anything particularly critical.
Six months later | Midwinter
Secrets were always something that interested Glacier. She'd always liked knowing things, and understanding what was happening in the kingdom. Be it the tiny murmured whispers between her friends in the wingery, or orders handed out by the Queen behind closed doors. She wanted to know them all.
Luckily for her, the Ice kingdom was teeming with secrets from Icewings long buried. She remembered clearly night after night asking her mother questions about the tribe, their history, and everything else there was to know. Most of the time she'd be too busy, but every once in a while she would sweep Glacier into her chambers and tell her great tales about the Icewings many triumphs.
When she was almost two years old, on one of these very nights her mother had decided she was ready to know about the forbidden treasury. Glacier had watched in amazement as the ice shelf she'd heard so many stories curled up on slid aside, revealing an impossibly dark staircase carved deep into the ice; descending into blackness as whole as pitch lit only my their moonglobes.
Glacier still wasn't sure why her mother had taken her down there when she was so young. Maybe it was because her sister had been particularly close to challenging her, and she wanted to be able to show her only daughter their tribes most powerful secret. Or maybe, she felt guilty about never spending time with her, and thought that taking her to particularly spectacular places would make up for it.
"This is the forbidden treasury, you must never tell anyone about it, or how to find it, do you understand? This is where our enchanted objects are kept, and they're not to be trifled with. The treasury is forbidden for a reason." Glacier nodded fervently, staring around at the shelves that lined the walls, containing jewellery, various animal trophies, and several small boxes. Below each shelf was a plaque, stating the name of each object. They were just about above Glacier's eye line, and she had to crane her neck to sound out what they said.
"The gift of, cop- com-"
"The gift of compromise." Fractal said patiently, "Do you know what that means?"
Glacier shook her head, examining the sceptre that went with the top was carved from some kind of rock, it appeared faintly blue but she couldn't tell if that was just the light. Tiny sparkling diamonds were embedded in it, shimmering like the night sky.
"A compromise is when two arguing dragons meet in the middle on their solution so they're both happy." She clicked her tongue, adding, "You're going to need to know a lot about compromises when you become Queen."
Glacier tried to commit that to memory, moving to another shelf. Despite Fractal's gentle tone, she thought she saw her mother giving the sceptre a hard glare before striding past it.
"The gift of, su- subsistence." Glacier read with a satisfied flick of her tail.
"Very good." Fractal roughly patted her head, "Do you know that one?"
"Yes." Glacier said proudly, "We learnt about it in school, and how the lower circles use it."
Fractal smiled softly, "You're very clever, aren't you?
"Mhm!" Glacier beamed, flapping her small wings. She peered into the shelf, examining the gift. "Why is it in a box?"
"The boxes are for the permanent enchantments," Fractal explained, glancing to the side as if remembering how it had been described to her. "An animus dragon needs to enchant an object to create her spell, so the ones that don't need to actively be used, and are permanently operating are kept in boxes to keep them safe."
"Oh," Glacier nodded, thinking, "Is that why your crown is kept in a box?"
Fractal laughed, soft and sweet, "No dear, because the crown isn't enchanted."
The young princess tilted her head, "You're sure?"
"Yes," Fractal said, tussling Glacier's spikes, "Because that crown comes from the time of Queen Diamond, do you remember her?"
"Of course, our last animus Queen."
"Exactly, and because she already used her one enchantment when she was younger, and if there weren't any animus dragons after her, the crown can't be enchanted."
Glacier hummed, looking back to the plaques along the walls.
"Do you know how we can read their names?"
Glacier looked up at her, confused, "Because, they're written in Icewing?"
"Well yes," Fractal smiled faintly, "I mean, in a sense. But all these objects are from thousands of years ago, and their names were originally carved in old Icewing, do you know why we can understand them now?"
"Oh," Glacier tapped her tiny claws together, thinking." "Um, because of a spell?"
"Exactly, a spell." Sensing a story Glacier moved closer, and her mother sat, wrapping a wing around her, "Thousands of years ago, when the palace was being constructed, the animus twins who worked together on it realised they were going to have to leave space for all the previous enchanted objects, and the ones that would come after them. So, not wanting to damage their individual souls too much, one of them constructed the palace itself, and the other handled everything else enchantment wise about the palace. That means making it indestructible, the animated snowflakes in the walls that increase in tandem with the weather, and enchanting these plaques so any Icewing who reads it can understand what it says."
"Is everything written in the palace enchanted like that?"
"No, not everything, not even most things. Just down here, after all, knowing exactly what an enchantment is before using it s highly important."
"Do you know who made all these enchantments?"
Fractal considered the walls, "Not all of them, but if there's any you'd really like to know I could find out for you."
"Find out how?"
"In my library," she said, gesturing upwards with a nudge of her wings.
Glacier's eyes shone. Her mother had referred to her private library before, but she'd never realised before how many secrets there had to be in there. "Can I see your library?"
"No darling," she almost winced as her daughter's enthusiasm sputtered out, "You can see it when you're older, it's for the Queen's eyes only."
When Glacier's disappointed expression remained Fractal sighed, gesturing for the dragonet to follow her, "Come on dear, we've been down here long enough."
Glacier glanced back forlornly at all the objects she hadn't been able to see yet. Her eyes caught on the empty shelves by the very back, and she was about to ask her mother about them, to stall for just a while longer, but before she could she was scooped up, held close to Fractal's chest.
"I know you'd like to stay longer darling," The Queen cooed, stroking the scales along Glacier's spine, "But your mother has some very important things to do."
Glacier buried her snout in the crook of her mother's arm, hiding her face. She heard the sounds of her mother's claws tapping on the steps, and the ice shelf sliding back into place as the treasury was sealed once again.
Her mother dropped her down outside of her door, nudging her down the corridor. Glacier turned, hiding her face and making her way towards her bedroom. From behind she heard the muted tap of her mother's door sealing shut, and the guards' spikes rattling as they ever so slightly relaxed their positions. She slipped around a corner, out of sight, finally allowing the grin that had been threatening at the edge of her lips to spread across her face. A plan, at least, the vague beginnings of a plan had taken root in her mind.
She would find out everything there was to know about their tribes magic, whether her mother wanted her to or not.
Perhaps on a different night, things would not have turned out quite so well. She had not been flying long, maybe a season or so. Certainly longer than her peers, but not long enough to safely fly to the upper floors of the palace without caution.
Had she been an older, more prudent dragonet she likely wouldn't have tried it at all, yet she was not, she was young and foolish and felt invincible as she flapped up on unsteady wings to a window on the fifth story. She carefully balanced herself on the windowsill, hooking tiny claws under the barely cracked window cover and prying it open.
Her small frame cast a long shadow across the floor, cool, delicate moonlight streaming in behind her. Glacier's claws tingled with anticipation; she felt like a spy, slipping through an enemy's compound to retrieve some important document to assist her tribe. She dropped down, stumbling slightly from the unexpected height.
The room was lined with hundreds of scrolls, shelves inlaid in every wall nearly completely filled. In the centre of the room several carved chairs and a large, stark white polar bear rug were positioned, along with three moonglobes that glinted blue highlights against the silver bound scrollcases.
She wasn't sure where to look first, or even what exactly she was looking for, so she made her way to the nearest shelf, scanning the titles. She was rather confused why the first few scrolls she found had such odd, incomprehensible names when she remembered what her mother had said about "old Icewing", and moved around the shelves until she saw writing she understood.
After quite a while of looking, and her short dragonet attention span beginning to wain, she found something useful. It was called, "A list of Icewing enchantments, from 908AS to present." She roughly pulled it down, unrolling it across the floor and reading eagerly.
Some of them she recognised, either from her short time in the treasury or from hearing them mentioned by older dragons. Each name on the list had a few short notes attached, as well as the theorised exact enchantment, aligning with their knowledge of how the spell operates. Several of them though, she didn't recognise, many of those lacking any real information on them whatsoever. Those included the gifts of vision, longevity and control. The first had a short few notes of speculation about what it could do, and where it was, presumably that meant not the treasury then. But the other two simply had "ABSENT" written below them in short block lettering. Odd, but she only had a moment to question it when another object caught her eye.
"The Diamond Trial.", the scroll stated, which very much piqued Glacier's interest; why wasn't this one labelled as a gift? She thought she recognised the name, but she couldn't place where. It certainly wasn't an often mentioned enchantment. She eyed the lines below it, curious.
"Created in 2996AS, this enchantment is designed to give lower ranking dragonets a final chance for the first circle before their seventh hatching day."
A final chance? That sounded ominous...
"If they wish, any dragonet currently listed by The Gift of Order may challenge the first position dragonet for their spot at the top of the wall. The challenge may be undertaken from any spot, at any age, though it is most frequently done by six-year-olds in the fourth circle or below. When a challenge is initiated both dragonets have three days to prepare, where they are then to be taken to The Diamond caves, and each given a spear. They are to travel to the heart of the caverns, where they will find the frozen dragon. She is to be struck once with the head of a spear to be awoken. Whoever leaves the caves following that has won the dual, and shall take or remain at her position on the top of the wall."
That certainly caught her attention. Who would make such a thing, and why? More importantly, what was it like inside the Diamond trial itself, and why did only one dragonet make it out? Perhaps once again, had she been older, she would've understood the subtext behind the words of the scroll. But as it stood, she was more than confident she could make it out of the trial.
I am just one dragonet, aren't I? So if I go down by myself, and one dragonet comes out, I'll always be able to come out.
There was a part of her, that deep primal part of her mind which rejected the idea animus magic had any capability for good, that was telling her this was a bad idea. She soundly ignored it, after all, she was the princess, and nothing ever hurt her and she just had to find out what was buried in the Diamond caves, and who this frozen dragon was.
She waited for her opportunity to slip away to the caves north of the palace, days turning to weeks, turning to seasons, until finally almost a year later she had her chance. Her mother would be away having negotiations with Queen Oasis about the border, and Glacier would have more than enough time to disappear and return without being found missing.
One benefit the wait had provided her, was that now she was much more proficient at flying. Looking back on it she doubted she would've made it had she had an opportunity the moment she left the library.
She had left the palace at midday, almost forgetting a spear in her haste. Light flakes of snow peppered her scales, foreshadowing the storm about to arrive. The caves themselves were not far from the main palace, though given she had no reference for how long they would take to traverse she had allowed herself quite a while to find the "heart".
Entering with barely a moments hesitation, she quickly found herself lost in a maze of tight tunnels and vertigo-inducing chasms. That only made her more curious though, why had the trial been placed somewhere so inhospitable? She picked away at that question until finally, the tunnel before her opened up not into an endlessly dark drop, but a cavern, rushing with the far off sound of an underground river.
The cave was covered in spikes of ice, connecting in many spaces to form uneven columns to the rough roof yawning high above. The cave floor was covered in odd, smooth blobs of ice that took Glacier a moment to recognise as dragons. At least, they looked like dragons, but dragons made entirely of ice. Some of them were locked in battle stances, snarling at nonexistent foes. Others looked almost happy or relieved, moving towards the entranceway or standing with their eyes closed. Others still were just piles of ice with limbs sticking out, as though someone had taken to smashing the statues for some unknown reason.
Even though they were just statues, there was something impossibly eerie about them. They were just barely too lifelike, falling comfortably into the uncanny valley. She hastily moved between them, trying her best to avoid any of their faces. She tried to remember what she'd read in the library as she walked.
Which one of these is the frozen dragon? They're all frozen!
Suddenly the spot of ground she was staring at darkened substantially, and she chanced a glance up, staring into the enraged face of one of the largest dragons she'd ever seen. Of course logically she knew the elders back home were larger, but she'd never seen them standing like this dragon to their full height, balanced on their hind talons with their wings flared menacingly.
She very suddenly got the impression she shouldn't try whatever she was about to do.
But then again,
The curious part of her brain wheedled,
I've come all this way, and I don't even know how the spell works yet. Besides, this room is massive, and I doubt massive heavy statues can fly, so there's no way it could catch me.
She shook her head, as though clearing out any doubtful thoughts. She raised her spear, gripping it steadily before driving it forward, poking the statue with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. A long crack spread from the indent she'd created in the ice, and Glacier had an immediate moment of worry that she'd broken it.
She hopped backwards as sections of ice came loose, hitting the ground in clouds of sparkling silver dust, and Glacier got a glimpse of the dragoness buried beneath. Her heart leapt, the stories she heard repeated over and over in her dragonethood replaying in her mind. Her scales sparked with excitement-
This, this is a-
The Nightwing dropped to all fours with a heavy thump, shaking her large head from side to side as the final clinging crystals dropped away. She opened sharp green eyes, staring immediately at a spot above Glacier's head with a vaguely confused expression. Eventually, she glanced down, her stare meeting the young Icewing's as she gaped at the massive dragoness.
"Hello," the not-so-frozen dragon tried, an amused smile creasing her lips, "You're a bit smaller than my usual visitors." She glanced around, apparently looking for something, "Are you here by yourself?"
As terrified and amazed as she was, her natural dragonet desire to not be talked down to or treated like a hatchling kicked in, "I'm not small." She puffed up her spikes, splaying her wings just slightly, doing her best to somehow look down her snout at the Nightwing who towered over her.
"You aren't?"
"Mother says I'm tall for my age."
"Of course, of course," the Nightwing nodded, "My mistake, I mean, you are quite big for a five-year-old."
Glacier beamed,
Does she really think I'm big enough to be five?
"I'm not five!" She laughed.
The Nightwing raised her eye ridges, "Really? How old are you then?"
"Three!"
The older dragoness gasped, eyes widening in mock surprise that Glacier was too young to recognise, "Really, my, you are big aren't you?"
"Uh-huh!" Glacier's eyes were shining with pride.
"Well," the Nightwing took a step towards her, "I'm sure you're going to be an absolutely terrifying soldier one day, aye? Say what's your name young one?"
"Glacier, Princess Glacier," she stressed, her rough puffing up importantly, "So no, I'm going to be Queen one day, and then everyone's going to have to listen to me." She poked a claw at the Nightwing, "Which means you too."
"Ah my mistake Princess, I had no idea you were a dragon of such utmost importance," Foeslayer said with just the faintest hint of sarcasm, "Say, if you're going to be my Queen one day, do you think you'd maybe be able to let me out of here once you are?"
Another flurry of questions, but this time one stuck out to her, "You can't leave?"
The Nightwing sighed, standing up on massive talons, "Afraid not," she moved to the entranceway, and curiously, raised a claw in the air. She pressed it forward, and it suddenly came to a stop right in the entrance, glowing faintly blue.
Glacier mouthed a small word of awe, stepping closer to get a better look. The Nightwing watched her, spreading her palm and pressing it hard into the barrier. Now the sapphire glow was much more noticeable, and it crackled and popped angrily like a storm cloud as the dragoness pressed her weight against it.
She lowered her talon, shaking it out, "See?"
"What happened to you?" Glacier blurted, all of the slightly more diplomatic questions leaving her.
The Nightwing's face fell, and her eyes darkened as she glared at some spot behind her. After a moment the dragonet realised she was staring at her back ankles, where a pair of silver shackles glittered smugly against her obsidian scales. "One of your Queens," she spat, pausing for a moment to even out her voice, "Hm, I suppose you could say my mother-in-law and I have a... complicated relationship."
Glacier had to wait a moment for her brain to process that statement.
Her mother-in-law? What does she have to do with this if an Icewing Queen was the one who stuck her down here? Unless... oh by the Great Ice Dragon,
"You're, you're,"
Of course! The date of the enchantment, how didn't I notice that?
Glacier stepped back, the name she'd heard repeated hundreds of times in her history class escaping her, "You're Foeslayer."
Foeslayer hummed, giving the Icewing an amused smile, "In the scales. I presume you've heard of me?"
Glacier could do nothing but distractedly nod as she thought about the implications of what Foeslayer had said.
But, but that would mean Diamond used her magic again. No, she couldn't have- she couldn't have! That's against all of the rules! Maybe this was her one enchantment... No, that was the Gift of Healing, and if this thing was created in 2996AS that's way too late to be Diamond's gift. I suppose that explains why this one isn't called a "gift", but there's no way Diamond would do something like this-
Foeslayer watched her shifting expression, guessing what she was thinking, or possibly reading her mind, Glacier didn't know enough about Nightwings to tell, "It turns out, when you're the Queen you don't exactly have to follow things like "rules" or "traditions" or "basic dragon decency".
That part of Glacier at had always disliked magic flared with justification.
See! Animus magic can't be trusted.
Suddenly the Nightwing winced, clutching her stomach. Glacier was about to ask her what was wrong when the Nightwing suddenly piped up, "Say, want to see a magic trick?"
Glacier held her spear closer to her chest, "An actual magic trick or one of those fake ones my uncle does sometimes?"
"An actual magic trick," and catching the dragonet's startled expression, "No, it's not my magic, and I promise you it's not dangerous."
Glacier was conflicted. On the one talon, she still had mountains of questions for Foeslayer, all of which seemed a better use of her time than watching a spell. But on the other, maybe Foeslayer would be more willing to talk to her if she humoured her for a while. But on the third talon, she didn't know if she could trust this dragoness. She hadn't been threatening so far, but she was a Nightwing after all, weren't they all supposed to be dangerous and untrustworthy?
Foeslayer held out a talon, and Glacier reluctantly passed her the spear, hopping a few steps back just as a precaution. "Right," Foeslayer began to spin the spear in her talons as she talked, tossing it up and catching it several times for good measure, "I'm going to make the next thing this spear touches turn to ice."
Glacier remembered this moment well. Foeslayer had raised the spear, giving her a grin before forcing the tip out through her back. She'd staggered back, dropping the spear as ice began to leap from her shackles, crystallising in whirls of blue and white. She hadn't even hesitated before doing it. Looking back on it, she was amazed by the number of times Foeslayer must've died to so normalise the idea of ending herself. This time though, that wasn't what happened.
Foeslayer flashed her a smile full of teeth, suddenly swinging the spear like a club towards Glacier. She leapt back with a shriek, scrambling backwards on the ice. The Nightwing laughed, deep and manic, and the Icewing leapt for cover behind a statue. No, not a statue, this was an actual frozen dragon. She looked towards his face and immediately regretted it. He looked terrified, eyes screwed permanently shut, and wings partially unfurled as though he were about to fly for safety. Now he was trapped, stuck permanently in the deepest, coldest part of the world along with the hundred other dragonets frozen throughout the centuries. And she was surely about to join-
A deafening crash sounded from behind her, splinters of ice spraying out in an explosion of glittering dust as the dragonet was smashed. Glacier tried to run, but slipped on the fragments, twisting around just in time to see Foeslayer hurling the spear directly towards her head. She didn't have enough time to move, she barely had enough time to think as the spear hurtled towards her and then-
Queen Glacier flinched awake, burning with adrenaline. She recognised immediately that it had been a dream, but that did nothing to quell the heartbeat that rushed in her palms as she pushed herself to sitting.
Nightmares about Nightwings were nothing new to her, she'd been having them the majority of her life. Nightmares about this Nightwing in particular though were a new feature of the previous two seasons.
A light breeze whispered through her balcony, calling her to ease her mind in the vast frozen tundra. To chase the clouds to the edge of the sky until every drop of startled frantic energy was exhausted and she could fall asleep comfortably once more. She certainly wanted to, companionless twilight flights had always helped when a particular dream became intense enough to rouse her. Tonight though...
Her eyes trailed to the shelves along the walls, once kept neat and orderly with precisely organised scrolls and ornate ornaments, now coated on every free surface with sculptures carved by her daughter. Young Lynx had decided it was her mission to gift everyone in the palace with "love you" gifts. Most of them were entirely indecipherable blobs of ice, apparently in the visage of seals, or polar bears, or what have you. They weren't particularly accurate, or impressive, but Glacier couldn't help but smile every time she saw them.
Didn't She have a daughter? I wonder what-
She hissed, chastising herself. Sympathy for some Nightwings could be tolerated, she supposed, despite how traitorous it felt. But this Nightwing, never, she deserved everything at happened to her. Yes, she had a daughter. A hybrid disgrace whose very existence was an insult to her tribe.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to lie back down on her shelf. She knew her near-nightly fights were doing her no good, only getting her body into the routine of waking early every time she slept.
She'd just have to get over it and go back to sleep
Noise carried far across the quiet of the savanna, insect buzzing and the occasional intermittent yowl or cry of some night creature leaving their temporary mark on the oppressive silence of the grassland at night. Moon loved that silence, the soft security it offered of always being able to hear oncoming dragons long before they had the chance to see her, unpolluted by the rush of waterfalls, or the slithering of other, marginally less worrisome reptiles.
The night too, made it easier to watch the nests without being discovered. She had a particular fondness for the smaller one, how with each moonrise it was alight with activity and noise. She'd wondered day after day what the dragons in those nests were like, how they looked, what their lives were like. Her curiosity about Rainwings when she'd grown up had been easily swayed by stern warnings from her mother, and the occasional new scroll to keep her occupied, but here she had no such available distractions. What she did have to focus her thoughts on, well probably better for her sake she didn't. She sighed, focusing her attention on her work.
She'd waited a month out alone in the savanna, practising hunting and mapping out easily accessible hiding spots in her mind in the event a nest dragon strayed too close for comfort. She'd wondered if perhaps she was far enough away from the nests for that to be unnecessary, until finally on the border between day and night, with the sun dripping golden warmth across the grass, two dragons had flown overhead. From the spot she huddled beneath the bolder it was difficult to make out exact details about them, but it was enough to send sparks of excited tremors through her usually wary wings.
One of them, larger than the other, glimmered in shades of violet and sapphire and rose, with four large graceful wings that he used to drift across the early morning air. His scales shone in the sunlight, brighter and more vibrant than any Rainwing she'd ever seen. The second, much smaller and flapping in front, looked almost like a bee or wasp, striped with uneven lines of black and yellow and amber. Moon guessed she had four thinner wings, though with the speed they were buzzing at it was hard for her tired eyes to tell. The yellow one chirped excitedly at the purple one and bumped his side, her tiny weight barely affecting his flight path. He called something back, neither words Moon thought she'd ever be able to understand, and she watched as they both flew off towards the ocean.
Slower than most tribes,
She noted, slower even than the Seawings with their wings built for catching ocean currents, rather than flying, though that may have just been to allow the dragonet to fly more comfortably.
She'd stayed awake half the day waiting for them to fly overhead again. Partly because she was worried they'd decide to go for a nice leisurely stroll back home, and end up stumbling upon her, and partly because she desperately wanted to see them again, her first true glimpse that this continent's inhabitants.
At midday they had returned, talons and underscales freckled with stubborn sand grains, and the dragonet held delicate pink seashells clutched in her tiny yellow claws. They were substantially slower now, and flying close enough to the ground to make moon nervous, until the older one grabbed the striped dragonet, holding her carefully, close to his chest and swooping up higher, back towards their nest.
Their nest, where they live together...
Surely they couldn't be from the same tribe, they were so completely different. Some of their features were similar, their same four wings foreign to any Pyrrhian tribe, but everything else about them was distinctly unique. So if they both lived in the same structure, while still being of different tribes, maybe that was common here. How many other tribes did they live with? It reminded her of possibility back home, where Mudwings and Skywings and Sandwings all lived together wing to wing, with much more camaraderie than she imagined anyone had expected.
As excited as the prospect made her, the idea of approaching a nest, the possibility of getting caught, and what might happen if her cargo was uncovered, was enough to still her. For now, she would stay.
Now though, it seemed as though many more nest dragons were flying over the savanna. She never saw another like the purple one, all of the dragons were soldiers, striped in black and shades of yellow, orange and red. They flew in pairs, and never stayed for long, but it was somewhat comforting to see other dragons up close every once in a while, even if their language was completely incomprehensible to her.
Out in the savanna, she had nothing to do, no one to talk to, and only her thoughts to keep her occupied, which she often spent more time trying to steer away from the things she didn't currently want to think about than actually listening too. It certainly did not help that whilst trying to ignore the scroll that hummed amusedly by her side, her current situation served only to remind her more of him, and then she'd end up throwing herself in the stream and spending the next several hours polishing her scales of dust to give her something to distract herself with. She held out for a while, days turning to weeks turning to months, until finally to restraint holding her back from visiting a nest fell away.
Moon had decided on visiting the smaller nest, both because that was where she'd seen the original two dragons disappearing into and because overall it felt a whole lot more welcoming. Her decision had absolutely nothing to do with the fact it was father away, and she could therefore further delay her visit. She spent days mapping out the path she would take to get there, walking only during the night and straying as far as possible from the larger, closer nest.
She had stayed up until past sunrise, waiting for the music and lights to die away, and the structure to fall silent, before finally working her way towards the veritable jungle sprawled out below the nest, that seemed to be a market of some kind. She'd slipped around and between tents, most tan, some died dyed shades of pink, or green or orange. Most of the shops sold rugs and tapestries, or any manner of silk decorations, with plenty of jewellers sprinkled in between. Moon had been in awe, staring around at the massive collections of silver and gold, and expensive dyes. Before leaving the rainforest she'd never been familiar with the concept of currency, but even with her limited understanding of it, she doubted she'd ever be able to afford an item from the market. That was of course until she'd finally found what she'd been looking for, stopping short as a smile creased her face. A scrollshop! At least, it had looked vaguely like a scrollshop, but as she'd approached her enthusiasm dimmed at its strangeness. There were papers there yes, and ink pots and quills for sale, but there didn't actually seem to be any scrolls present. There were however shelves and shelves of odd rectangles, made of leather she guessed.
She'd picked one up, puzzling over it and tracing a claw across the cover, where letters were presumably embroidered on the surface. There was a break in the leather, where the binding gave was to three sides of clean paper, and holding only the back with the paper face upwards to get a better look at it, the construction fell open, revealing lines and lines of writing. It was a scroll! Or at least something for a similar purpose. She'd been surprised by how much writing could be fit on it, and flipping slowly through the pages for fear of ripping the delicate paper, all of the many pages seemed to be filled with just as much. She'd glanced around at the rows of the scroll-things, did they all have just as much in them? Perhaps that was why they were made in such a way, to allow for more information than a traditional scroll, but how long would it have taken to write all of this? She'd looked back down, examining the neat, near-perfect lettering. She couldn't even begin to make sense of it, and it certainly wasn't helping that everything was written in a language so alien to her she couldn't even guess what it was trying to say.
She'd placed the object down, worrying her claws together. Everything there seemed entirely useless to her, but she'd been hesitant to leave empty-handed and go back to her nights of endless worrying. Maybe if she couldn't read anything she could try writing. Not that she'd ever written anything before, but it was better than nothing. While exploring the tent she'd caught the odd scent of something vaguely familiar. Some kind of mammal, but the smell had quickly dissipated and afterwards she'd been unable to pick it up again. Near the back of the shop she'd found a pile of empty not-scrolls, some lined and some not. She'd grabbed one of the unlined ones, as well as an inkpot, holding them carefully. Right before the exit she paused, shouldn't she pay for these? She'd looked down at what she had unsure of what she could even pay with. Assuming she did, how would she know how much her things cost? She'd sighed, leaving feeling guilty but unsure of what else she was supposed to do. As she'd made her way back through the stalls she'd watched as a talonful of multicoloured dragons dropped from the nest and below into the market, picking up her pace.
She'd been near the outskirts, almost home free, when she'd stepped on something sharp. She'd winced, moving back and lifting her palm to reveal what it was. It was an amber earring, small and round, and connected by thin bands of gold to the wearer's ear. She'd set down her inkpot, lifting the sides of the tents she was in between to return the earring to where it belonged, but to her surprise, neither of them had sold jewellery, although one of them had that unusual mammal scent she'd smelt earlier. She'd peered down at the amber, twisting it in her claws, considering.
Did someone lose it? Should I just leave it here or try to find the stall it belonged to? I wonder how it got so far without anyone noticing, or-
Oh, that was scavenger I smelt.
From what she knew of the small creatures they were fond of shiny objects, much like dragons were, so had one of them tried to steal it? She'd lifted the earring and sniffed it, but it was hard to tell if she was still just smelling the tent beside her.
If a scavenger has taken it, it could've come from anywhere in here.
She'd glanced around, considering whether it would be worth trying to find where it belonged. The whisper of approaching thoughts building at the back of her brain forced her to a decision. Maybe it was impulse, from her days of collecting what little she could to make toys of in her burrow, or maybe it was the earring's resemblance to Qibli's, allowing her a small piece of home, but she'd slipped it into the slight gap in the opening of the scrollcase.
The voices in her head became more present, aloud conversations happening between dragons, and she'd hurried away into the grass, towards her hiding spot for the day.
Moon dragged her claws across the grass, wiping off the excess ink as she waited for what was on the page to dry. As she'd discovered, writing was a slow and painful process, and as much as she loved reading, perhaps writing stories wasn't for her. So she'd tried drawing, nothing impressive, just small doodles of the dragons she knew and saw flying overhead, and whatever small insects wandered close. They weren't good, she knew that, but there was something undeniably satisfying about seeing the ideas in her head scratched out in ink. She still wrote occasionally, but more so ideas about what the wildlife of this continent was like, and theories about these new dragons.
She nudged the not-scroll aside, watching the slight wet sheen already beginning to disappear from the thin lines of ink. She'd learnt rather early on that closing the not-scroll while the ink was wet was rather a bad idea, not only destroying what she'd drawn but also bleeding ink onto the following pages.
Speaking of which-
She tapped the side of the now near completely empty inkpot, frowning slightly. She'd known for a while she'd been needing to get some more, although she'd hoped what she'd had would last longer. She wasn't exactly keen on approaching a nest again, although her first successful outing had marginally increased her confidence in the idea.
Well, I don't necessarily need to go to a nest again. I do have-
She growled, knocking over the inkpot and using the high, ringing sound as an anchor to distract herself. She was marginally disappointed by how often she thought about using the scroll, even if she was certain she never actually would. Part of her tried to make her feel better about it, arguing that any dragon in her situation would do the same thing, but then she'd be worried she was going too easy on herself and then inevitably she'd been up headfirst in the river.
She sighed, staring up at the moons, trying to estimate how much of night remained.
Maybe I should have an early night, I'll need the rest if I'm going to a nest again tomorrow anyway. Yes, fantastic plan me.
She picked up her things, carrying them over to the shade of a boulder before curling herself underneath, and with one last glance at the glimmering lights in the distance, so real and present, yet distant from anything she'd ever experienced, fell asleep.