The Sea of a Thousand Currents
He had heard plenty of stories of the Tsunami Flats, of its lush flora and clear waters with abundant fish, but the image before him was a stark contrast to what Smokey had expected.
Harpies, Longnecks, and even the occasional Serthis dotted the desolate landscape, a particularly large group of the first having made camp in a modest tidal pool that had dried out, cracks running along its surface. None of them were even native to this region. He knew that there were small pockets of Serthis to the very north of the Sea of a Thousand Currents, but apart from that, none of them should have been here.
The rumours were true, then. The Tidelord, for whatever reason, had abandoned his children.
While there were plenty of clans to be seen in the various pools, there was a desperate air to them, hostility clear as guards were set up to keep watch at all times. Smokey couldn't help but note that far too many of them had ribs showing through their thick hides.
But it was the local wildlife that shocked him the most. Not the Maren that flitted through the pools, wary of both dragon and beastclan; not the Pronghorn Stomper that had patches of fur falling out, looking dead on its feet.
It was the rivers that ran between the pools. The smallest of them had all but dried up, with sardines, guppies and trout alike lying dead at the bottom; but it was the larger ones that made the fire on Smokey's back flare in shock. Longweed had all but swallowed up large sections of the rivers, choking off the pathways and allowing further debris to get tangled up in it. He saw a Riptide Clipper on its last legs desperately trying to snip its claws at the tangled mess around it; a Daydream Puffer lying on its side, eyes wide open, not a bit further; a Raptorik snacking on the remains of a Reef Snail; a blue mess that he suspected had once been a River Muck…
Smokey’s stomach turned, and with a roar he unleashed a torrent of fire at the Raptorik, who flew up just in time to only get slightly singed. They glared at each other for a tense moment, before the Raptorik seemed to decide better of it and backed away, taking off as soon as the distance allowed it.
He surveyed the area. A lot of eyes, dragon, familiar, and beastclan alike, had turned to him at the display. The bear sighed mournfully. He'd have his work cut out for him.
---
Smokey straightened his already immaculately positioned hat, and turned towards the nearest tidal pool. The dragons floating within were eyeing him warily, though a few were curious enough to swim to the nearest edge to get a closer look at him. First things first, he decided. If he wanted to have any chance at helping out here, he would need to gain the trust of those who lived and breathed this region.
He inhaled deeply, his flames lowering in intensity with each passing moment until they licked low at his fur, the fire on his paws going out entirely until they were merely searing hot. Slowly approaching a few dragons that were tilting their head at him, he grinned wide to add to his attempt to be as non-threatening as possible.
A green-blue Guardian covered in algae immediately jumped out of the pool with a loud roar, startling Smokey sufficiently to have his flames rise again.
Breathe, he thought to himself.
And perhaps less teeth, more smiling. He adjusted his expression accordingly, and the Guardian squinted at him suspiciously, though her shoulders seemed to relax infinitesimally nevertheless. The Guardian must be the leader of the clan watching from behind the safety of her huge frame: as she allowed Smokey to slowly approach her, more dragons came to the edge, some even climbing out on land.
He tugged at his hat once more, very much aware of all the eyes on him, other clans' dragons trying to get a closer look, some even stepping onto the land. It seemed this Guardian was quite influential indeed, even amongst other clans. It was probable that everyone would judge him based on his interaction with this clan. He couldn't get too close to the Guardian--not because he was afraid, but simply because despite his above-average stature, he would look ridiculous trying to look her in the eye (he could already tell he would get a crick in his neck as it was).
"Why have you come?" the Guardian said without preamble. "You do not belong here."
He took a deep breath, making sure to look her in her narrowed eyes. "I am a direct assistant of the Flamecaller. We have heard tales of your predicament, and want to lend you our aid." Smokey made a significant effort not to shift on his feet or adjust his hat yet again. Formal speech and diplomacy were not his forte.
There was a long silence, broken when the Guardian finally snorted in derision. "What can
your deity do for
us? Fire has no place here." Smokey was sure she had intended it to come across as harsh, but there was a clear dejected undercurrent to her tone, and her eyes betrayed her weariness.
He couldn't blame her. He wondered what he would do if their Flamemother suddenly vanished without a trace and found the concept too painful to even entertain. It couldn't have been easy, he thought, trying to keep everyone safe when there were threats closing in on you from all sides. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a small commotion behind her, and when he craned his neck around the Guardian to see the cause, he spotted a Tundra, two Mirrors, and a Coatl moving restlessly at the edge of the pool, sharing frustrated, yet resigned looks. Their eyes were all a bright amber.
Smokey perked up at the sight of them. "If you'll allow me to demonstrate?" Without waiting for an answer or any regard for potential hostility, he trotted off to the downcast Fire dragons. Their heads collectively snapped up at his approach, but they didn't retreat or show aggression; if anything, they seemed curious. He stopped at a respectful distance from them, giving them his best smile (no teeth, he reminded himself).
"I would love your assistance, if it's not too much to ask!" The dragons shared looks amongst each other once more, looking faintly baffled, as if this was the first time someone had recognized special value in them and requested their help. Smokey really hoped it wasn't.
The Tundra shuffled forwards first, thick white fur dripping water behind him, with the sunset-coloured Coatl flying over to him only moments after. The two Mirrors--siblings, he'd wager, with their identical dark hide and similar red patterns--muttered quietly to each other before sharing a nod and coming over to rest beside the Tundra.
"Excellent!" Smokey clapped his paws together in excitement, and in an instant flames were licking back at his fur. He winced, ready to apologize, until he saw that none of the four had backed away or even flinched--if anything, there was a distinct sparkle in their eyes as they gazed at the fire on his paws. He grinned at them once more, all teeth, and this time, there were no hostile roars.
Aware of the Guardian's watchful eyes on his back, Smokey took the four dragons back to the spot where he'd scared off the Raptorik earlier. With a frown, he spotted the Riptide Clipper, still bravely--but futilely--struggling against the mess of Longweed, branches and mud that were keeping it captive.
He jumped in without a second thought, what little dampness remained on the riverbed evaporating under the heat of his paws. Approaching the Clipper with cautious steps, he eyed the mess it was constricted in. The crab froze, clearly assuming him to be another predator in want of a snack. Smokey winced, but against all instinct refrained from saying anything to reassure the creature; this would be easier if it remained as still as possible.
Concentrating intently on his paws, he got the flames down to a calm licking along his fur. Careful not to get too near to the Clipper, he grabbed handfuls of Longweed, smiling as they melted into wet ashes in his paws with a satisfying hiss. The crab watched him with obvious shock as he worked meticulously to burn the weed, branches and leaves to a crisp, removing small stones and mud with them as he went. At last he got to the remaining tangled of Longweed. He doused the fire on his paws entirely, and slathered them in cold mud for good measure; only then did his claws move in to separate weed from exoskeleton.
When he finally hopped out of the riverbed, holding the trembling Riptide Clipper, whose eyes were wide with wonder, Smokey heard a distressed cry from one of the tidal pools further along the coast. Almost before he could blink, a Skydancer was landing in front of him, cooing at the small creature in his paws, feathers instinctively curling around it. He couldn't even get a word out before the Clipper was being pried out of his paws ever-so-gently, and the Skydancer flew off again towards his own pool, dipping what had to be his lost familiar back into the water with a care usually reserved for newborn offspring.
It brought a smile to Smokey's face, to know that he had been able to save at least one life, but it quickly turned into a grimace as he took in the rest of the river bedding; the blue goo, the half-eaten Reef Snail, the bright colours of the Daydream Puffer... There were none left to be saved down here.
Gritting his teeth, Smokey tugged down his hat more tightly over his head. He could do nothing for those already lost, but he
could prevent more loss from happening. With that in mind, he turned to the four dragons behind him.
They looked positively mesmerized by what they'd just witnessed. Smokey forced the smile back onto his face. He'd been sent here to help, and by the Flamemother, help he would. "As you see, fire can be destructive, but even its destructive properties can be used for good." His eyes moved past the four in front of him and back to the Guardian, who was tilting her head, looking intrigued despite herself. Smokey held her eyes as he said, "Longweed can't take root in an incessant current. When the continuous waves of the Tidelord waned, it was only a matter of time before they choked out the local flora and started blocking the rivers."
He clapped his paws again. "But! That's were me and my valued assistants come in! You see, with the precise burning of the Longweed, we can free the rivers up again, and reintroduce the fauna. Not only that, but the ashes from Longweed work excellent as fertilizer, so we can distribute it on the land to help the growth of new, healthy plants!" The dragons stared at him, not seeming to share either his enthusiasm or optimism, but at least they were willing to give it a shot.
---
He wasn't surprised that the Coatl was the first to get some fire going. She looked at it in wonder and no small amount of delight, preening when the other three looked over, clearly impressed. It didn't take long for the Mirrors to get it then after, the continuous banter that flowed back and forth between them designed to hype each other up, until a burst of fire left their maws at the exact same time, igniting the dead plants between them. They startled back a little before grinning wide at their small audience, all teeth.
The Tundra seemed to have a significantly harder time of it. Every few minutes or so, he would cast a mournful look at the other three dragons as they practiced control over their fires under Smokey's encouragement. Finally, the bear decided that some assistance might be required. He padded over to the Tundra, giving him a bright smile when the dragon looked away in shame.
"Hey, don't feel bad! You've never practiced before now, right?" He got a shy look and the tiniest shake of a furry head in response. "Let's try something, then! Here, just focus on the fire between my paws, and try to think of nothing else but the heat. Then try and take that to create your own."
From the look the Tundra gave him Smokey might as well have asked him to go off and find the Tidelord, but he nevertheless complied, digging his strong paws in the ground and squinting at the flames Smokey was holding out in front of him.
Long moments passed until the silence became plain awkward. The Tundra squinted even harder, as if the narrowing of his eyes was directly related to his magical potential. Smokey cleared his throat. "Er, perhaps you could try to--" He was cut off by a low growl in the dragon's throat, his maw opening; the bear didn't have a chance to give so much as a peep before the Tundra inhaled deeply, the flames moving with the force of it. The next thing he knew, an enormous firebolt shot out of the dragon's maw, exploding in a flurry of fire on the side of the riverbed. The fire spread rapidly, consuming everything it touched, leaving nothing but ash, mud and bones.
Smokey grinned wide. He heard various noises of shock and astonishment around them, and turned to congratulate the Tundra--except the dragon in question didn't seem to know whether to be horrified or astounded, and was thus currently wearing an uncomfortable grimace comprised of both. He patted the soft fur beside him. "See? You just needed a little encouragement!"
They both froze at the sudden loud calls coming from the east. The dragons weren't the only ones who had been eyeing the fiery display. Small pockets of Beastclans were congregating, recognizing the threat to both the territory they'd claimed and their food sources.
A massive roar sounded out behind him, and Smokey whirled around, his flames automatically flaring up to their fullest potential. As he'd thought, it was the Guardian--but her eyes weren't focused on him, rather than the plentiful members of the Beastclans that were now brandishing their weapons and claws. She roared several times more, head swiveling around to look at every tidal pool in sight, and as dragons of all kinds started to jump and heave themselves out, shaking off the water, Smokey recognized the sound for what it was.
A call to arms. A call for unification.
Bit by bit, he noticed that the call had not only moved the dragons into action. A pack of Rabid Grinfin was prowling alongside a group of Snappers and Fae, several Shalebuck pushing forwards slowly but steadily with some Woolly Walrus. The ground shook beneath him, and Smokey's eyebrows disappeared underneath his hat as an actual Wartoad stomped her way towards the invaders of her region, looking thoroughly irritated (then again, he wasn't sure he could ever remember having seen a Wartoad look
anything resembling happier than 'not currently in the mood to squish you').
His elation was short-lived, however. The Beastclans seemed to have built up a decent immunity to water magic during their extended stay in the Sea, and the battle was raging for barely half an hour before the Guardian roared once more, recognizing the need to retreat and regroup.
They had only just made it back to the now-scorched river when a new wave of dragons arrived from behind them. The Guardian looked briefly annoyed, then surprised when she noticed the unmissable hues of their eyes. Vivid red. Bright yellow. A summery green. Sparkling pink.
Judging by the way the dragons scratched at the ground underneath them, the sounds leaving their throats, it was clear they were as eager to defend their home as the Water dragons. The Guardian gave them a nod of respect, and that was all it took for them to rush forwards, although when she let out a growl in turn and charged head-first into the battle once more, several Water dragons were emboldened to follow in her wake despite their disadvantage.
With almost the entirety of the Tsunami Flats' dragons now fighting for what was rightfully theirs, the battle was over before it even began. Curtains of shadow fell over the Beastclans, bolts of ice and lightning blindly being fired at the dark, though judging by the resulting sound, they found their targets. A bright beam of light dispelled the dark, quickly followed by whirlwinds, disorienting them even further. When the Fire dragons came in to scorch the land in front of them, the Beastclans were already retreating back into the woods.
Cries of victory and relief sounded out. Smokey's hat was barely hanging on still, and his cheeks hurt with how wide he was grinning. It didn't help when he noticed the shriveled remnants of a dead plant just feet away from him. He trotted over, and on sheer gut feeling, toed the burnt pile out of the way. His grin softened when he saw that in its place, a very small, but perfectly healthy sapling now had the breathing room to right itself, reaching towards the sun.
A loud commotion abruptly drew his attention. A large group of dragons had gone back to the scorched river, though from this distance he couldn't discern the reason. It didn't take long to find out. His eyes widened as he saw that the Tundra's massive firebolt had spread far enough to reach the main obstruction of the river, and water was now starting to steadily pour through. The dragon in question looked in awe of what he'd accomplished, and Smokey nudged him with a smile.
"Go on. Finish it." Those simple words caused the first truly happy expression to bloom on the Tundra's face. He grounded himself into the earth, as if he had done so a hundred times before, opened his maw, aimed--and a wild burst of fire hit the Longweed straight on, shriveling up in a matter of seconds. Water flooded down the bedding, and perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Smokey almost thought he could already see it healing the cracks in the earth.
They weren't out of the woods yet--but now, as he watched Maren slip in and out of their pools as quickly as possible, depositing some of the local wildlife they seemed to have preserved into the river, he thought they had hope. Smokey vowed to stay and teach the various Fire dragons as long as necessary until they could control the weeds on their own.
Of course, they'd have some weaponry to clean up now, and a few camps to break down, too. But that was nothing a little fire couldn't take care of.
