Mirkon

MIRKON / THE LOST BOY / HE/HIM

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SCENE: Scene TBD

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"My gods, Mirkon-- stay close, stay close, I'm here!"

His mother held him tightly, pearl clasped in her other claw. They were practically the same size, he and her pearl, and he clung to it. His claws slipped off the pearl's slick surface. He felt strangely wanting; he had yet to regurgitate his own pearl. The rain beat around him, but Mirkon was spared the brunt of the winds in the shadow of his mother. Her wings-- colossal compared to his tiny body-- curled around him as she searched desperately for somewhere to hide from the storm.

Mirkon made a sound halfway between a coo and a cry. His mother ran a claw across his face and through his tiny mane, shushing him.

"It's alright, dear one. Your father-- where is your father?" She jogged along the cliff's edge, looking out over the Thousand-Current Sea. The gale winds coursing along her back served as a reminder of Wind's power. She looked down, holding Mirkon and her pearl close. This was the part of the Sea where the water was drawn into the delta that eventually became the rivers below the Reedcleft Ascent. The rapids weren't as harsh as the Ascent, but they were still dangerous. Someone as small as a Pearlcatcher, as her husband, could--

--a glimmer of a lost pearl far below caught her eye--

As she stared, a great gust of wind caught her open wings from behind, sending her sprawling forward over the cliff edge. In the face of the rain and the wind and the cold shock of loss her claws slipped, and her pearl and her child tumbled over the cliff.

"My child!" Her pearl was worthless compared to the loss of her only hatchling. A dark blur suddenly leapt past her, diving as swift as he could-- her husband!

"Fly, my darling!" She called, with every ounce of her voice. "Fly swift as the wind!"

He dived, faster and faster, wings tucked into his body. But something went wrong, or something had gone wrong while he was lost, (a torn wing, a head wound, anything, anything) and he lost control, falling into a turbulent tumble before the rocks rose up before him and--

"You'll still be too late," she whispered, her eyes wide, her limbs frozen.

Mirkon opened his wings and closed his eyes as he fell, crying futilely into the stormwinds. He plunged, deeper and deeper, falling unconscious where the rain and the gale met the sea, where wind met water.

Some dragons of the first generation are born from magic. The rest are born from loss.

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Mirkon awoke with a pearl half-stuck in his mouth. He shuddered to life, his claws sinking into the sand as he stood. The ocean lay bare before him. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he spat out the tiny pearl in his mouth. It barely made a crater in the sand, covered in black mucus. Mirkon sniffed at it, then recoiled.

He looked around, as if searching for something more pleasant to behold. He found it almost immediately: a huge pearl, bobbing in the shallow waters. Toddling forward into the tide to grab it, Mirkon yelped as his claws left the sand and grasped at water. He started paddling immediately, his sudden burst of speed a clear product of his Water heritage.

Mirkon grabbed onto the great pearl. How beautiful it was-- so lustrous, so fine, shined to a perfect sheen by the seawater! It was even more beautiful compared to that little yucky thing on the beach. He knew, faintly, what it was and what it meant-- and, clearly, this pearl was way better than the one he found in his mouth. He awkwardly floated it back to shore, nudging it up onto the sand.

Now... Where was his mother? There were lots of dragons flying far overhead. Mirkon rubbed the water and sand from his eyes, but still couldn't see them well through the noonday sunlight. He squinted into the bright light, his nose tingling. He sneezed-- and suddenly jumped, yelping in surprise. What was that? A wave of terror overtook him, and he looked around frantically. He almost started crying, when a huge thump sounded a ways away from him.

Mirkon peeked over his pearl. A gigantic dragon-- twenty times his size-- walked over the windy shore, peering around as if looking for something. The great dragon's grey hide was so shiny (but only in some places-- how odd!), Mirkon almost wanted to go and touch it, but he couldn't shake off the terror that collected in his tiny bones.

The colossal dragon suddenly perked as if noticing something, plucking a large, shrimpish thing from the sand. It sat back on its haunches, cradling the shrimp in its claws. Mirkon, still cowering behind his pearl, rolled it forward to get a better look.

His vision was still blurry, and it was hard to see between the wind and the sunlight, but he could still see the great feathers of the dragon's wings and the dragon's fluffy tail. Mirkon didn't know whether to flee or charge or cry, but just then the dragon's tail twitched. Mirkon's gaze locked onto the fluff spreading over the sand, and a moment later he pounced, completely missing the tail and faceplanting into the sand. He pulled himself out of the sand but a moment later, diving for the fluff and latching his toothless mouth onto the tail.

"Hm?" The great dragon turned around, his tail dragging little Mirkon over the sand. "Hello there, little one." His voice, low and loud, was still soothing, and Mirkon peeked up at him, frozen as if he had just been caught getting into trouble.

The dragon chuckled, setting down the shrimpy-thing, which skittered curiously over to see what all the movement was about. Mirkun slowly unlatched his jaw, letting the clump of fur stuck in his mouth fall to the ground, before scampering back over to his pearl. The great dragon sunk forward to peer at the little hatchling, his claws sinking into the sand.

"Are you lost, little one? Where are your parents...?" Mirkon shrunk back behind his pearl at hearing the dragon's voice, booming in comparison to the sounds of the wind and the surf. The dragon held out a gigantic hand, gently touching Mirkon's pearl. Mirkon hissed-- for reasons he couldn't entirely understand-- and attempted to pull the pearl away, instead just managing to slip off of it repeatedly.

"Ah, I'm sorry." The dragon withdrew his hand. "Do you need help...?" The dragon looked around quizzically, completely unsure of what to do until Mirkon slowly tottered a bit closer to him.

"You'll do fine with me, little one. My friends and I will help you." He spoke as carefully as he could, knowing full well only the tone of his words would be understood by the baby dragon-- and even just barely that. He outstretched his hand again, a bit less than he had done so previously. It was one part the wind and one part his own infantile curiosity that pushed Mirkon to toddle up to the great dragon, half-laying on his hand.

Mirkon closed his eyes as the dragon rumbled with quiet laughter, letting the pulse of it draw him to sleep.

---

Maxwell tapped a claw against the great pearl, his ear twitching as he listened to the pearl ring.

"What does it say?" Eros, whose great bulk could barely fit in the foyer of Maxwell's library, cradled the sleeping hatchling in one hand.

"A name that is not his own," Maxwell murmured. "And yet, his name is there too. I've seen things like this before, but rarely, so rarely..."

"What do you mean?" Eros asked, a bit gruffly. He hated whenever Maxwell couldn't get to the point.

"A stolen pearl."