Naunet

Far from the Viridian Labyrinth...

Silence hangs in the nesting chamber as thick and as oppressive as the shadows within it. Once it was a welcoming place of warm shallow pools and brightly colored coral that echoed the swirling tile patterns embedded in the walls. These patterns told a story, informing curious hatchlings of the great deeds of their divine forebears. Stepped as it was in ancient history, the chamber was a welcoming place fit to be the first home of the children of gods, but now it was not so. The waters had gone cold, the coral faded and dying. In the gloom, the benevolent faces of the gods seemed harsh instead of compassionate. Deep within the chamber where no one dared to go now, save for one dedicated guardian, sobbing could be heard.

Could someone be born unfinished? That was the question that seemed to boggle the priesthood for months on end. They tried to ease the hatchling's discomfort just as they tried to banish the fog that surrounded her, but both had been born of the same egg, and their efforts faltered. Her destiny was elsewhere that much was certain. She would not be long for her mother's embrace or her father's protection or even the love and reverence of her people. If they wanted her to survive, they would have to send her away, and with a heavy heart, they did just that.

Seven moons ago...

There had been a shriek and a crash, and Thereos had raised his great shaggy head to sigh. "Elana? Come here, youngling. I told you to leave that well enough alone." There was no real anger in his voice for the Tundra was aware that his workshop was a veritable mess that only he (and probably his mate) knew how to navigate. He did not often indulge visitors, but Elana was young, the youngest of their Clan and Thereos could not find it in his old heart to dissuade her from her curiosities. When there was no response, he left his brew, picking a path through the stacks of rotted leather and other odds and ends. Turning the corner, Thereos saw that the crash was a result from an overturned chair and cowering behind it was the young Pearlcatcher.

"It was humming, and it cracked. I didn't touch it. I swear! On the Gladekeeper's beard, I didn't touch it!" Elana peeked out at him from behind a curtain of green hair. Her Plague primal eyes were glowing faintly to show her distress.

"Be calm, young one. I believe you." He pushed the chair away to one side as he approached, laying a paw on her head. Not five feet away from them was the Spiral rune. Cracked as Elana had said. Thereos had long since given up on keeping all the runes in one place. They had a life of their own and would turn up when a potential bearer was nearby. Most had been claimed, but he had never seen one splintered. "Come, let us go and get some fresh air hmm?" Thereos suggested kindly. There would be plenty of time for mysteries. The rune did not look in danger of disappearing or exploding, and he deemed it safe enough to put it behind tending to Elana in his list of priorities. "We can watch Kruger feed his birds."

That morning...

"This fog is not a natural one. I suggest you stay behind me."

"Haunted, you are an Imperial and I a Fae. I have to stay behind you no matter what the danger." The speaker's voice was monotonous, but his brightly colored fins moved lazily to denote sarcasm. Curled up on his mate's back he looked up at his two companions. "I can sense that it is not natural but, as it has not killed any of the plant or sea life, it is probably not a danger. We should leave it be to confuse the Maren."

"But it is not only the Maren who are distressed. The Tree Wardens are well-meaning but, Nature dragons have no business proclaiming what is wrong with the water."

"And besides it'll be an adventure!" The Fae could sense that there was some annoyance in his mate's words for Cloud was a Nature dragon, but they both knew what Haunted meant. "And it clings to our territories so-"

"Hush! What is that sound?" They had reached the water's edge, and he pulled himself up onto Cloud's head to look at the sight that greeted them. The shadows were dense here, despite the rising sun but he could barely make out a figure caught in the reeds. It was a hatchling...?

Present time...

More than the shouting and angry voices, the confused smells were giving him a headache. Thereos glared at nothing at all as the argument that was sparked by Louks' comment of there being too many Imperials in the Clan carried on and on and on. Looking to the left, he picked up a dusty but hefty tome and slammed it on to the table. In the ensuing silence, Thereos gave his judgement.

"Louks, take your regiment out on patrol. You are behind schedule and Kaletia would not be pleased when she returns from the Mire and finds out."

"Haunted, have Consiee bring the hatchling to me." This arrival could not have been a coincidence. As the rest of his Council filed out, he walked across the large room and took the splintered Spiral rune. "I had thought you would belong to a Spiral, but perhaps I am not a fool just yet." Thereos was laying out the rune on the table when Haunted returned with his mate. Consiee carried a softly sobbing bundle in her arms and looked hesitant when Thereos instructed her to put the hatchling down next to it. As soon as she did though, the rune splintered off completely a portion of it fading into the little body as it was claimed. The sobbing stopped. The hatchling calmed, and Thereos looked uncomfortably at the runic pieces that were left. Well, that was part of a mystery solved at least.

"Be welcomed in Clan Warwillow young one."

"Naunet." The hatchling's voice was soft and hoarse from all the crying. "My parents named me Naunet. I would like to keep it."

He could see the uncertainty in her watery eyes and the resolve underneath it. "It is not my place to strip you of the last thing you own. Welcome home, Naunet."