Gaea

Gaea lounged on her favorite branch, swatting flies lazily with her long tail and watching the birds flit around her in the cypress tree. A family of chickadees foraged on her back, catching the flies she couldn’t reach and voicing their displeasure whenever her massive tail swung too close to their tiny feathered bodies. The female Imperial stretched out a wing, letting her muscles relax in the heat of the midday sun, which glinted off the glassy shards embedded in her wings. Her entire body shone like molten emeralds, and her supple yet strong wings were as delicate and beautiful as a butterfly’s. Cicadas sang loudly, filling the air with their vibrant hum, lulling Gaea into a drowsy stupor.

Just as her eyelids began to droop shut, a branch snapped in the shrub surrounding Gaea’s favorite cypress tree, and the female likewise snapped to attention, curious as to the source of the noise. A half-hearted sniff of the air revealed the presence of a young male Wildclaw, and a moment later, a dragon of that description broke through the thick foliage surrounding the tree and stepped into the clearing directly beneath it.

Gaea could tell this male was not from the Gladekeeper’s Realm, but his body language suggested no cause for alarm, so the Imperial remained reclined on the large branch above his head, lowering her own to rest on the solid tree, a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes as she watched the male below her.

Having visitors was not uncommon for Gaea, due to the fact that she was, well, something more than a dragon. Not a goddess exactly, but some kind of indescribable hybrid between supernatural and natural. She had been blessed by the Gladekeeper, or created by him, as some claimed, and had dwelled in a secluded region of the Viridian Labyrinth for more years than anyone could remember. Rumors of her supernatural powers had spread over Sornieth and occasionally, in a time of hardship, desperate dragons would seek her help, hoping she would save them from whatever calamity they had, more often than not, inflicted upon themselves. Of course, there were also those who came to Gaea for a different reason. Power hungry dragons yearning to make a name for themselves by slaying a demi-goddess and hoping to somehow inherit her powers themselves. None of these dragons were ever seen or heard from again.

But one look at the Wildclaw below her was enough to convince Gaea that he did not fall under the latter category. He was clearly scared beyond reason, trembling slightly as his eyes roved over the gigantic tree in front of him. Camouflaged as she was due to her coloration, Gaea watched him with amusement, waiting for the Wildclaw to adjust himself to his surroundings before she flicked her tail at a particularly annoying fly and made her presence known.

The Wildclaw responded by nearly jumping out of his skin in surprise and then immediately bowing as low as possible to the ground, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the grass at his feet in a gesture of extreme reverence. Gaea gave a small laugh, and flicked the end of her tail under the Wildclaw’s chin, gently granting him permission to meet her gaze.

Although he raised his head, relaxing his posture slightly, the Wildclaw still refused to meet Gaea’s gaze, making it quite clear that he was utterly at the mercy of the gracious Imperial. After first requesting permission to speak in a shaking voice, the Wildclaw proceeded to introduce himself as Crayton and explained that he had come from a clan in the Starfall Isles, which was (of course) in need of her assistance, should she feel compelled to give it. Gaea sighed, bracing herself for boredom as the male continued. Whenever a dragon came to her like this, they were almost always pleading for more prey, or begging her to inflict damage upon a warring clan. And Gaea almost always refused their pleas. Not because they were beyond her capabilities, but because they were, quite frankly, unimportant. Nothing hard work and common sense couldn’t fix.

But this Wildclaw had not come in search of free handouts. His clan’s plight was of a far darker nature, and Gaea raised her head slightly in interest as he divulged his reasons for seeking her aid. According to his tale, all of his clan’s hatchling’s had been dying of some mysterious illness. Each nest would remain perfectly healthy until the eggs had hatched, and then, after only a day or two of life, the hatchlings would suddenly begin to waste away, despite the best efforts of the clan’s accomplished healers. In fact, Crayton had sought out every healer in the Starfall Isles that he could find, but none of them had been able to help. The devastating blow of losing so many hatchlings had cast a dark cloud over his beloved clan. Some of them had come to believe that their clan was cursed forever, and that somehow the Plaguebringer was behind it all. All of them had refused to breed, unable to bear the pain of watching their young die and being helpless to stop it. Then, Crayton heard rumor of a mysterious, yet supposedly powerful demi-goddess hidden somewhere deep in the Viridian Labyrinth that had been gifted with the powers of the Gladekeeper himself. Crayton had set out for the Gladekeeper’s Realm the very next day, fueled by his love for his clan and a desire to save them from their unending torture.

Gaea listened intently and when Crayton had finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over them both. This was curious indeed. Instinct told Gaea that this was no ordinary illness. A sneaking suspicion told her this was the work of someone almost equal in power to herself, and, if she had to guess, someone loyal to the Plaguebringer. Anger began to build deep within her. From the way Crayton had shown genuine respect for her, Gaea knew that his clan was not one that deserved to suffer this way. And this injustice made her rage flare brighter. Turning her eyes, now filled with fury, to the Wildclaw below, Gaea delivered her response.

It took her merely a day to reach the Starfall Isles-- a day in which her rage had time to grow from a flickering flame to a roaring inferno. And when she arrived, her rage was unleashed. In a matter of hours she had tracked down the Plaguebringer acolyte responsible for infecting and killing the hatchlings. In a matter of seconds, the acolyte became a pile of ash.

Never before had anyone seen Gaea’s fury in action, and now that they had, she knew her powers would no longer remain rumor. Word would spread, and although many would come to her seeking only help, others would seek to test her abilities, to see just how far her power could extend. She realized that Crayton’s clan would now become a target for those hoping to bring her down, and although she had loved her beautiful, secluded cypress tree in the Viridian Labyrinth, ensuring the safety of the innocent was a far greater prize.

And so, ever since that day, Gaea has remained with the clan, their sole protector and guardian. And not once has she let them down.