I always found it unusual how the books only lightly glossed over how the Pyrrhians responded to the news that infected zombies were coming across the ocean. It's left ambiguous whether there was any conflict or if Luna cut off the Breath of Evil before any infected made their way across.
At the very least, I hope this summarization captured what it was like as a bit of a headcanon.
"Oh, what's this now?"
"I—uh...I was cold."
"So you cozy up to someone who lives in a freezing cold lake?"
"Yes. That is exactly what I'm doing."
Nemichthys nuzzled her gently, indeed feeling a lot warmer now. This love thing was...helpful.
Outside of this, nothing had changed. Sanctuary was gravely silent on yet another cold, stormy autumn day. The dreary atmosphere was perfect for the looming, suffocating fear that was the so-called 'Breath of Evil'. Karner and Bract were still MIA, and no one knew of the developing situation. Tension was still quite high.
One couple, however, was immune to panic right now. Both had conquered some significant personal mountains; what could life possibly do?
Nemich softly curled his tail to keep her close, feeling Gen's warm breath seep into his thin equivalent of a chest. While it had seemed as though this relationship was built upon helping her, he was also extremely grateful to have her.
They were relaxing here at the lakeshore, heedless of the weather. Both of them were catching up on some long-needed care and affection. Their unity was practically vital at this point; she was without those hallucinations, he was without that constant weight of 'less than'. He couldn't imagine what the Pirate would have thought of this. Only months ago, really. If he could ever see Cutlass again, what would she think?
The SeaWing could only hope to imagine a proud smile on his mother's face. For, even if the life he led was harsh, she knew he had the potential to make it.
Under any other circumstances, he would be gone. A blemish on history erased, an imperfection snuffed out. But it was thanks to both Cutlass and Gentleheart that a lindwurm was not only alive at such an age, but finding true acceptance among others.
"You honor me." Nemich's favorite NightWing (the only one he had ever known) hummed softly in response, sinking into the embrace and looking rather sleepy. "Thank you for being so courageous. For doing the unprecedented, what has never been done."
"Mmhmm. You're worth it, Mickey..." He subtly worked to cover her from some howling winds. It was only mid-morning, but if conditions didn't improve, they would be better off resting up in the safety of her home. The lindwurm glanced about, finding no one, not even a stray Pantalan. Quinn had been worriedly holed up in his lab for several days now. Both Sage and Beryl were busy preparing all sorts of medicines in case war did break out.
Sanctuary was so...empty.
The changing season didn't help matters either as the trees began to lose their vibrancy. The climate variance was new to him, and while he would never admit it to Gentleheart, it was freezing out here. Especially after recently returning from the humid rainforest.
That said, he found it impossible to cling to such a dreary state of emotions. Her love won out in that regard.
The SeaWing took his newfound liberties with great intrigue, now able to observe the dragoness in her wonderful complexity. The bristles and spikes all along the back of her neck, the straight prongs of horns, the delicate webbing of her surprisingly paper-thin wings. They were so fragile...though, despite her social awkwardness and first impression, he knew for certain that Gen, deep down, was anything but frail.
In truth, she had always maintained remarkable constitution in just living day by day. Another dragon within her claws would be done for.
After all, who else could love a lindwurm?
"Gen, do you suppose...we could take this inside?" To his confusion, this phrase set her alight, and his new partner quickly scuttled back with a raging blush.
"W-what?! Nemichthys! My moons!"
"I'm sorry? You said it yourself, it is quite chilly out here. I only wish to warm up." This apparently did not help to clarify as she continued to shrink back.
"Oh! I-I mean, we've only been together a few days, I didn't think—I'm just not sure if I'm ready!"
"For...? You've been in my lake plenty of times. Is your house off limits?" She seemed to cool off a bit, now looking similarly confused. This was an unusual miscommunication.
"...Wait, what exactly are you asking me?"
"It's cold outside. Your home provides protection, I'm sure. We would be wise to relocate." The spark of realization seemed to flicker into existence now. What did she think I meant? Is that some term of phrase?
"Phew! Okay, I got it now. For a moment there, I—well, I thought that—you were, um..."
Regrettably, the subject had to be dropped as Nemich caught the sounds of flapping wings above. On instinct, he coiled a little towards Gen in a protective fashion.
An unfamiliar SkyWing descended towards the clearing with the lake, having just passed over the trees. Strapped to their side was a large leather bag, with a few papers sticking out.
"Good morning, folks," the young male opened, landing. There was a suppressed double take at Nemich's appearance, but he maintained professionalism. A messenger, by the looks of it. Do I dare hope...? "My name's Swift; the coalition sent me. Is this 'Sanctuary'? I'm looking for a Prince Winter, but you're the only living souls around."
"Coalition?" Gen asked, straightening to stand tall and show a bit of that hidden bravery.
"That's right." Swift explained briefly how the queens had mustered up portions of their armies to join forces and prepare on the west coast of Pyrrhia, should the invaders truly cross over. The IceWings were making the furthest of preparations, given that Pantala was estimated to be in that northern direction.
However, per his reason for seeking Winter, the coalition had received some important news.
"I have no reason to keep discretion on this one; we've had the word of reliable sources that the cause of the mind control has been eliminated. Those affected are returning to their normal selves. Crisis averted."
Wow. A relief to be sure. He was certain that the heroes responsible for practically saving the world would get their due regards. Their quest was likely a grand adventure already to be documented.
Nemichthys would remain here; he had no desire for such glory. Invisible, content, and with loved ones. Nothing else would be necessary now that Pyrrhia was safe.
"Oh, thank goodness." Gen met him for a relieved embrace, causing their visitor to smile lightly.
"If I remember correctly, Winter's place is that way," he said with a point. "I'm not entirely sure if he'd be there at present, however."
"I'm sure I can get it from there," Swift responded, taking flight with his rather small wings. "Thank you both." The messenger was off and away with some impressive speed, beelining for Winter's dwelling.
Nemich felt the NightWing in his arms trembling slightly. She was overcome with a breathless excitement, staring up at him.
"We're safe...moons. We're going to be fine, Nemich! T-this could last forever!"
It began to sink in now. Their love would remain largely unimpeded. He was now upholding a true commitment, potentially for life. And why not? The rest of his tenure on this planet here with Gen seemed like the ultimate blessing.
Every day kept bringing him more and more fortune. It was like the universe was finally apologizing for all of those years of mistreatment and suffering. If only everyone could live like this. Now I'm the one on top. That hardly feels fair. An incredible significant other, with next to no problems approaching them in the near future...
"Then be mine, Gentleheart. Forever. —That sounds entitled."
"No, no. ...I like it."
She moved in closer, and he took some slack out of his coil to equalize their heights. Such a beautiful, midnight gaze, now kept safe. He brushed a talon over the thin lines across her cheek. They were healing nicely. He planned for any such wound to never appear again.
Nemich felt his own face...stinging. Was this normal? Gen gasped lightly, smiling wider.
"Aw, Mick, y-you..." His question of 'what' died before it came out. He felt...choked up. Shaky, even. What was happening? "Let it out, Nemichthys. I'm here for you. I always will be. This is your life now, okay?"
...Ah. I see now. I'm crying, aren't I?
The SeaWing attempted to fight back against this subtle emotion, which was working against him. But as the tears stubbornly leaked past, he discovered how healthy it was. Letting such an emotion free was not a weakness as Cutlass had once suggested, but instead a great relief.
His body instinctually began to curl in on itself, and the only nearby support to stay upright immediately came from Gentleheart. She maintained support of his upper spine as they swapped roles, comforter and patient. He tried with some difficulty to stabilize and breathe evenly.
"I—I have no words."
"You don't need any. Just rest. You don't need to tell me that I'm awesome." The light humor helped a bit as her steady forearms enveloped the lindwurm. The cold winds became irrelevant.
"Mom? Can I have a hug? I never get hugs anymore."
"Because you won't, Nemichthys. —I don't mean to sound callous, but I'm preparing you, child. You mustn't grow dependent on such affirmations. That world out there is not so welcoming."
"Why?"
"No one else would dare to care about you. The concept of love will never come to pass. You need to be strong, young one."
"M-Mom..."
"Those dragons out there would sooner hunt you down like a trophy than cherish you as a life."
The bolt flew past them, severely off target, and the crossbow's discharge plunked into a nearby tree.
Nemich surged up to a towering height, making sure his serpentine body never stopped moving. He was naturally hard to hit. There was a loud hiss of displeasure from the shrubbery from which the attack had come.
"N-Nem—"
"Yes, I saw it too. This is reality. Watch your back, Gentleheart." The SeaWing bared his teeth. The past had finally reared its ugly head, but it would not catch him unawares. The spirit of the fugitive had perhaps left his mind, but not his veins.
"Woah, woah, hold it, stop!" He blinked back some surprise as a MudWing strode out of the forest, one arm raised in a placating gesture aimed at all involved.
She was a large dragoness, easily identifiable as a bigwings, with a nearly unreal level of muscle mass. She had a build capable of crushing skulls like chicken eggs. Fortunately, she seemed to be the most peaceful at the moment.
No more arrows flew at the command. Tense silence arose as the bigwings appeared...exasperated.
"Sometimes I wonder why we were even allowed to hatch. CAREX! What did I say?! Can any one of you quote me verbatim?!" Yikes. A dragoness like that with that level of rage was sheer terror.
A timid brown head poked out above a bush.
"Um...you said not to attack the long guy," came a dull and blundering male voice, most likely Carex.
"Thank you. And can you tell me what just happened? What you just elected to do, ruining this entire interaction?" Yet another MudWing popped out of the shrubs, looking a little defensive. This whole group...kind of seemed familiar...
"Rush, please," the younger female said. "Don't take it out on him. I—I pressured him. I thought if we had the element of surprise, then..."
"So much for a peaceful approach, huh?" Rush sighed, but did cool off, her imposing figure both strong and weary. "Nemichthys, I'd like to apologize on their behalf for disrupting the peace here. My sibs can get...overzealous."
He made an effort to remain calm and approachable. Giving Gen any more stress was high on the dislike list.
"I see. You have come seeking the bounty, yes? I am astounded that it is still in effect. Perhaps we can reach an accord?"
"Don't worry, I have no plans. I had assumed that we were only here to observe, but that plan failed..." The second dragoness wilted under a pointed glance from Rush.
Within the following lull, Nemichthys made sure his love was okay. She was surprised and concerned by these newcomers, sticking very close to him, but as far as he could tell, there was no mental breakdown underway.
"Are you alright?" She looked up with a nervous flutter before whispering back.
"W-what? Yeah...just be careful. They're hardly trustworthy." He attempted some reassurance by nodding and briefly tapping their foreheads together.
"So...sir," the so far unnamed female began, speaking placidly. "You've been here at Sanctuary? Ever since we chased you off in the Mud Kingdom." So it was them...well, that stood to reason. They clearly had remarkable tracking skills. "Just...living life, then? And, uh, and finding someone, I see." He nodded, mixed between wariness and pride for both of them.
"I told you, Mari," Rush responded. As they talked, Carex hesitantly stepped out into the open as well, looking bewildered and torn. He held silent. "We should have dropped this whole thing ages ago. I won't be the one to stomp all over a happy dragon who isn't doing anything wrong." Hm. He actually found that rather uplifting.
The 'crimes' in the SeaWing Kingdom were largely exaggerated. He felt no need to pay a sentence or otherwise bother with those charges. At best, a formal apology to Queen Coral for the strife it likely caused her, but she surely wasn't bothered at this point. The bounty was likely sitting at the bottom of a pile somewhere, forgotten.
The two sisters, or so he could figure, were locked in a hushed argument. He couldn't blame them for seeking fortune and a livelihood through bounty hunting; it was a valid profession. But given that his own bounty was largely founded upon hatred and not actual crime, it felt like a rather cheap shot.
"If I may." The squabble halted, and Nemich hesitated, not used to being given so much reverent attention. "While my opinion on this might not have credence, I feel that my bounty was mostly falsified. Perhaps the only law I have ever broken was briefly swimming through a protected kelp garden. Instead, most charges arose from disgruntled SeaWings who felt me undeserving of the fish which I rightfully hunted. It was a...compounding issue."
Gen cast a wing over his thin frame, offering a sympathetic smile. It warmed his newly softened heart that she would always be there to shoulder these burdens.
"Uh...he's got a point," Carex said, evidently regaining the courage to speak. "The paper just said how much. Nothin' about what he actually did." The sisters stared wide-eyed, impressed how he could remember such a detail. "What? We dunno how ocean law works. Can we go? I'm starving."
A positive light started to break through the tension as Nemichthys put a bit more trust into the newcomers. They seemed to be letting him off.
"There's fish right here at the lake if you're interested." He scooted off a bit that way, awaiting an answer. Rush quickly shot down her brother's excited expression.
"No thank you. We shouldn't be bothering you both any longer. We'll cross this bounty off our lists and get on the next one instead."
The younger sibling, addressed as Mari, sighed, but seemed to accept the truth. When she looked up at the sky, however, the smaller MudWing's eyes widened.
"Vain, wait! No! Turn it off!"
Now who was—
With a resounding slam, a metal pole dove straight through Nemich's midsection as the top of the cage crashed into his head.
The lindwurm went out like a light.
-- --
"Yurragh!" Oh, finally. That's probably gonna leave a scar in my back.
Bract then tumbled across the barren, dirty floor of the cave, kicking up pebbles and trying not to inhale any of the resulting cloud of dust. He had hoped for just a split second of respite after being carried north over the continent for what felt like an hour.
Instead, Fulmar firmly planted one of her powerful legs on his chest, keeping up the trap that he still couldn't quite figure out. What was she so mad for?
"Ugh. There. Couldn't you stand to not gorge yourself so frequently?" Actually, with that mentioned, he was feeling rather hungry now.
Bract glanced around their new surroundings. A howling snowstorm raged outside; they had entered the Ice Kingdom by this point. What confused him was that the big magic wall of death that they had to avoid last time was now mysteriously gone. Perhaps Queen Snowfall had removed it to avoid the hassle in the future.
Otherwise, this cave was bland. It was clearly Fulmar's home, judging by the extinguished pile of charred wood, a few animal bones (or maybe even dragon bones), and some etchings on the wall. He would have found it rather ominous if not for the sympathy he felt for the wyvern. Her outburst was likely born of a misconception leading from a troubled past.
"Hey! Take me seriously!"
"Huh? What? Sorry, I got distracted." Uh oh. That made her mad.
"You can't be serious. Why aren't you terrified? Your plan failed! Your life is mine!"
"Fulmar, there is no 'plan'. I was just trying to help you socialize. Maybe it was a bit too much at once, and I guess I could have handled that better. But I don't get what you think I was doing." She sputtered out nothing, bewildered.
This only demonstrated to Bract how many people in this world had trauma to deal with. He had felt very alone in his problems—without a home to turn to, friends and loved ones mentally imprisoned—but some other dragons didn't have homes to start with, let alone any confidants.
It was a great tragedy...if he was anything more than a face in the crowd, he would seek to repair the world.
His captor's hold had lessened considerably as she was lost in thought, staring at nothing. However, she soon grit her teeth, and the pressure on his ribs returned. Bract didn't panic; oddly enough, he was really calm right now. Perhaps it was the chill of her scales freezing his nerves rather than exciting any anxiety.
"You should be afraid of me. I'm a horror! They've always been scared! It's just another trick, huh? Trying to lower my guard with confusion. Well I'm not going on your trophy wall!" That was some fierce language...she had to be hurt badly by something in the past.
"Fulmar, I'm not scared because I can tell that you're really a good person. You've just been misled by mean people. That's all." Like the PoisonWings...the Hive isn't responsible for the actions Wasp makes them perform. Though I guess that shouldn't excuse them from punishment...
"Good?! Hah! You honestly believe that...I...good...?" Her icy expression became even more distant and melancholy. To his surprise, Fulmar released him, trudging towards the rear corner of the dim cave almost in a trance. The wyvern sat (awkwardly with her condition) and remained stagnant thereafter. Bract could hear faint muttering as she tried to rationalize what was going on.
Well, there would be no luck reaching her in this state. Instead, he sought to rectify the cold in this cave, which was swiftly becoming unbearable with the howling winds outside.
The LeafWing got up, rubbing the pain away from the soft grooves she had dug with her claws. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no good way to start a fire in this desolate place. He was not lucky enough to be one of the Pyrrhian tribes with flaming breath, or a flamesilk for that matter. Maybe rubbing sticks together? Someone had mentioned that was a thing.
Hmm...he noticed a small pile of black rocks sitting near the remains of the campfire. Their placement seemed deliberate. Not wanting to bother his 'captor' as she thought things over, Bract grabbed two and began to experiment.
They had a rough texture, hard to scrape at. A chalky surface too, that left his scales dusty and colored black. Heat came by friction, right? LeafWing education didn't stress the mechanics of fire and heat, given that it was threatening to their former livelihood in the Poison Jungle, but he knew that much. Things get warmer when you rub them together really fast.
He tried to do the same with these rocks, but they were uneven and too tough to get a good rubbing motion. This had to work. She had these out for a reason.
Finally, on a whim, the LeafWing decided to just smack the rocks, and flinched when a few orange sparks flew off of the metallic substance. Of course! Not sustained friction, but a sharp and sudden application would work.
Excited to have discovered a foreign concept all on his own, Bract used the new skill to kickstart a fire. It was meager, given the low amount of fuel in the small pit, but he felt the burst of heat it offered and sighed in gratitude.
He was at attention when Fulmar abruptly stood from her position, decisively turning towards him. She had no anger, but certainly no happiness either.
"You are a mystery, leaf guy." Leaf guy? Ouch. "You throw out the element of surprise, can barely succeed in trying to capture me, and don't even fight back to protect your life."
"What? I-I think you're getting the wrong idea here, I had no intention—"
"Clearly, you're an incompetent mess. So I'm willing to overlook your offenses so long as I get to monitor you in the future. Can't have you messing things up any further."
Huh? Just...what? He couldn't get a bead on what she was talking about at all. Fulmar had evidently thrown out that concept of her being a good person, no doubt believing it was a lie. Why did people have to be so complicated? This made no sense on her end either. If she believed him to be bad, why do any 'monitoring'?
However, after some befuddlement, he did manage to internalize that bit about incompetence. What is it that I've done? Laze around in a peace-loving tribe, ignoring the sins of our past? Run away to Sanctuary to eat fruit and learn pointless factoids? Get completely sidetracked in my mission by getting involved with some dragoness that's got a few scales loose?
What a lame story. Who would ever want to read about that? No; Bract wanted to do something interesting now. He wouldn't be some side character.
In destroying his self-confidence, Fulmar had remade it completely anew.
The determined LeafWing stood, gazing out into the snowstorm. It seemed pretty rough, but this cave wasn't that far into the tundra. He could get back to those warriors on the coast. Join them, finally join a just cause. Be a part of something.
"Now what? I swear it's like trying to stop lemmings."
"Do what you want, Fulmar, Grotesque, whatever you want me to call you. I've got myself a motivation now, so I'm off. It's time to cure that incompetence."
With a deep, calming breath, he jumped out into the winds, letting them catch in his wings and start the journey west. Sure it was brash, a rushed decision, and maybe a little irresponsible. Sure, it felt like he wasn't the only dragon to take some risks recently. But surely it was a good thing if other people were trying it.
And it would most certainly make him valuable.
"Hey, get back here! You're not surviving a day in this! Puffin pellets, you are so frustrating, leaf guy!"
"My name is Bract!"