Raz

---

Many, many years had passed since Phosphorescence brought Raz into the Tempest Plains- and not once had he set a claw out of their borders. There was simply no need, nor desire. And so, traveling from the vast deserts of Dragonhome to the bamboo forest trail that now laid before him hadn’t been his idea- but Ambrosia’s.

“Write everyday. Then when you come back, you can tell me of all the amazing things you’ve seen.

It had been three days since Raz arrived at his destination. Shrouded in fog and tucked away amid an endless sea of bamboo shoots, Zephyr Temple was quite different from the open, vast desert lands that defined his home.

Personally greeted by their matriarch, Cea, the Mirror was warmly revived by the rest of the clan and treated to a feast of seared Reedhopper legs and steamed Morning Stars. Local delicacies as they put it.

He hadn’t fully adjusted to the difference in time yet, but as he lay sprawled on his back, the constant chirping of birdsong let him know it must have been daybreak. Abruptly rolling onto his side, the Mirror pushed himself up from the thick, lavish cushions that filled the hollow pit that was his bed and ambled towards the curtained doorway. The scent of blackened fish and simmering fruits lingered in the air, along with the faint chatter of dragons echoing down the hall.

“...well, I was going to ask him if he wanted to see Nelu’s Pond since the lilies are still in bloom right now and she’ll probably want to give him something! But then Kasso suggested I just bring him the map!”

The chipper voice that grew louder as the soft clicking of talons drew near had grown somewhat familiar for him over the past few days- and as a distinct form rounded the corner, his guess was confirmed. With dull obsidian scales that contrasted starkly against their vibrant regalia and banner, a Nocturne came into view.

“Good morning, Caiyun.” Raz called, pulling the dragon’s attention away from the flaxen-colored Guardian that slowly treaded beside her. Judging from his attire, he too must have been one of the clan’s scouts.

“Oh! Good morning, Raz! Me and Shiren were just coming to get you!”

The Guardian beside her nodded briskly.

“It is good to meet you, Raz! I’m sorry I couldn’t be there the night you arrived. It took me longer to return from my mission than I expected!”

Joining the pair as they came closer, Raz offered a polite greeting to Shiren as they changed their course back towards the foyer and onwards to the dining hall.

“Anyways, they’re still getting breakfast ready, so we wanted to discuss what you wanted to do today!”

Gliding over to a large stone table, Caiyun withdrew a large scroll from their robe and placed it on the surface. Gingerly undoing the scarlet twine that held it closed, they waved one wing motioning for the Mirror to come closer.

“This is a map of all of Lower Reedcleft,” they explained, standing aside.

Whoever had crafted it had clearly put much love into their work, as it was adorned with an intricate illustration of the Windsinger along its border. The names of various locations were written in a decorative script, with small illustrations marking the features of the territories.

“I know I already told you about some of the cool spots we have the night you came, but a friend suggested we let you have a look for yourself! If some place catches your eye, I can tell you about it and we can check it out if you want!”

Eyeing the map carefully, Raz mulled over its numerous pathways, caves, and trails. Finally, his eyes settled upon a mark not far from the shoreline. Written in fanciful golden ink was rather curious name: Terror Trench

“What’s Terror Trench?”

“Well...Terror Trench is where a lot of ships have sunk!” Caiyun began, flicking their tail excitedly. “Because Windswept is such a hot spot for trading, it’s had a long history of pirates! Rumor is a lot of strange things happen in the area-“

“- and there’s treasure to be found.” Shiren added, glancing down at the teal Mirror. “...or at least that’s what some of our friends say.”

He was speculative, but the faintest of smiles graced Raz’s maw. “...I think I’d like to go.”

And so it was settled. Terror Trench would be only one of the numerous locations Raz would find himself either dragged to or stumbling upon during stay with the Zephyr Guardians. As promised to Ambrosia, he wrote considerably. So much so, that Caiyun gifted him a larger journal, secured by a brass clasp.

“You still have other places to go right? ‘Be a shame if you ran out of space.”

And as days rolled into weeks, then into a month, the time eventually came for Raz to move in again. Sent off with a breakfast feast and saddled with the many trinkets he found along the way, a intricate map was given to him to guide him to his new destination: The Scarred Wasteland.

---

It took a while for Raz to figure out that the map he was given wasn't quite right. It seemed that whoever made it didn't consider that the "city" Raz had decided to venture to wasn't a permanent affair. Raz was sure he was in the right place. All the other landmarks lined up, but the tents he was looking for were nowhere to be found.

This prompted him to wander. But his supplies were running low and he was clueless as to where to go to find this place, if it even existed. When all seemed lost, he found it. It was astonishing. It was the right place. It matched the overhead view the map gave, but it was not only in a completely different place, it was on top of a gigantic spider-like creature that looked like the fleshy ground of the Wasteland had grown a great many legs.

Raz landed at one of the edges of the creature's back and cautiously approached the tents. Seemingly out of nowhere came an Imperial wearing light armor and whose face was completely hidden. "State your business." The other dragon commanded in a flat tone.

Hesitantly, having to hold back his urge to attack, Raz showed the Imperial his map, pointing out where he'd circled, explaining that he was a traveler looking for this city. The Imperial laughed at the word 'city'. "We are no city, this is a hospital. And an inn. You are welcome to stay as long as you want and as long as you can pay for your room. What counts as payment is flexible and at the discretion of the innkeeper." The Imperial then pointed towards a very tall tent. Really, it more resembled one of those large buildings common in Lightning territory, but covered in stitched canvass instead of metal.

Raz met with the Pearlcatcher sitting just inside the structure. It was decided he would work odd jobs while he stayed. The space he was given was cozy with all the amenities a dragon needed, but with that Wasteland flare of many things being built on a base of twisted bark and bone.

Raz was bounced around when it came to who he was helping. Everyone needed some kind of help it seemed. For a brief period, he was let into the hospital and tasked with delivering food, but that didn't seem like a good fit. Nothing seemed to play off his strengths and personality for a while... until...

The chef sent him to hunt so they could replenish their meat supplies, giving him a homing device so he wouldn't get lost in the Wasteland. That decision solidified Raz's work for the rest of his stay.

He was a fantastic hunter, brought back large hauls consistently. It was asked if he wanted to stay permanently, but the time was coming for him to move on.

The night he left, he was unsure where he was going next. Instead of a traditional map, he was given something that would guide him wherever he wanted to go.

---

Despite his grand adventures across Sornieth and the opportunity to see every part of the world, Raz found himself longing for Ambrosia's comforting warmth by his side at night. He wrote in his journal every day, his handwriting scrawled and unpracticed, about his many new experiences and the many new faces he'd seen, but it just wasn't the same as hearing her voice or watching her expression as he spoke.

By this point he had made it to the northernmost edge of the Starfall Isles, flying long distances from peak to peak of the Crystalspines and resting uncomfortably on the shores of the nearly-uninhabited crystal islands. Then, in the distance, he noticed the glimmer of civilization built into the stone face of an upcoming mountain, decorated elaborately in the colors and banners of Dragonhome. He wondered if an Earth clan had expanded its reach southward, encroaching upon the pink sands of the Arcanists's domain. As he approached, though, he realized the kingdom was clearly aligned to Arcane, but grandly decorated for the Rockbreaker's Ceremony. Peculiar, he thought, for an Arcane kingdom to celebrate in honor of the Earthshaker. Curious, he dove to land just outside the city's edge.

On either side of the main road a guard stood watchfully, taking note of his arrival. "Welcome, traveler," said one, "What brings you to the Z'Arduani?"

"I am returning to Dragonhome," Raz answered truthfully, his voice and expression plain, "but your banners caught my eye."

"Ah, yes!" said the other guard, "Here at the Z'Arduani we celebrate every major elemental holiday to accommodate our guests and our citizens. You've arrived just in time for the Rockbreaker's Ceremony!" The Spiral spoke quickly and with an excited vigor. "Feel free to stay at the inn and partake in our festivities for the next few days. I'll inform the innkeeper of your arrival in case you need a room, and of course you can't miss the hawkers on the square if you'd rather just buy a few supplies and head on your way. Just straight ahead, there! Enjoy!"

It took the Mirror a moment to take in all of the guard's rapid sentences, but as the words settled upon him he took the time to look down the street at the square. The Spiral was right; several carts and stands lined the street, manned by dragons shouting to passers by in an attempt to draw their attention. Some stands brandished Earth-clan symbols, touting idols of the Earthshaker and a wide array of crystals and stones for sale.

Raz was uneasy at the bustle of the town at first, his instincts telling him that there was danger in crowds, but his reluctance eventually faded into awe that such a gathering of dragons could go-exist comfortably. After some contemplation, he stayed at the inn for the duration of the Ceremony. It was interesting to see dragons of all creeds come together to celebrate on behalf of one another with an air of community and respect. Even after the holiday had ended and the townsfolk began to take down their banners, the square remained fairly busy. He spent many days dragon-watching there, and even got to know a few of the shopkeepers’ faces. Eventually, though, the tight-knit community only reminded him more of the distance between himself and Ambrosia.

He finished his journaling, said his goodbyes to the innkeeper, and bartered for a ticket onto the ferry that crossed the bay between the Starfall Isles and Dragonhome, and made his way back to the one who he could call family.