Envelope

“ When one conjures up an image of a plague-born dragon in their mind, they tend not to think of a sweet maned spiral with large innocent eyes and an affinity for roses. And yet that’s where Envelope’s story really begins. In the war-ravaged plains of the Scarred Wasteland, where more conflict was brewing than ever on the day of her hatching. Envelope opened her eyes to her mother standing protectively over her nest.

The sounds of snarling, gnashing teeth, and clashing weapons penetrated her ears and dust billowed up to sting her eyes, overwhelming and overstimulating for the newborn. Envelope could only cower as she tried to squirm toward her mother’s hind leg. The elder dragon had already pounced into a cloud of dust rising from the skirmish. The baby spiral whimpered and buried her head in her claws.

A sharp female voice spoke from somewhere in front of her. “Get her out of here!”

Confused, disoriented, and dazed beyond comparison, Envelope was lifted by her back into the mouth of a larger dragon. Accompanying the sound of large beating wings, she was lifted, stroke by stroke, into the air and away from the carnage below.

There was a warning shout, and the large wings came around her body, protective, as she heard the awful sound of metal spearing flesh, and suddenly she was falling. Falling. Down, down, she tumbled through the sky with those big wings protectively around her. When the dragon holding her collided with the ground in a lifeless heap, Envelope crawled desperately out of his wings.

This is Envelope’s first and only terrible memory. Because not long after being abandoned on the battlefield, she was picked up by a courier who’d been traveling overhead and taken to safety. The courier was a young skydancer who called himself Moon, and he was a jovial, kind soul who took his job seriously. He’d narrowly avoided the spears and arrows to safely retrieve the tiny spiral.

Though he was very young himself, Moon raised her the way he would raise a sibling. He was gentle and protective of her, and he spent all his free time teaching her how to survive. The skydancer even took her back to his homeland in arcane, the Starfall Isles. There, he taught Envelope to fly, though more often than not, he’d simply tuck her into his messenger bag and tell her to protect the letters there. He was the dragon who would give her a name. He was the one who loved her and assured her that she was going to be alright.

Moon was a courier. He took Envelope on his travels across Sornieth, delivering letters and packages for any dragon who needed him. Envelope loved every moment of the travels. She loved the responsibility that Moon was granted when he took on a job, and she started perfecting her navigation and flying so that one day, she could do the same on her own.

However, it was when Envelope was traveling alone one day to a local market that her destiny and her path in life became crystal clear to her. She walked into the market to purchase some insects for herself and for Moon, but froze when she overheard a conversation between a freelance courier and his potential client.

“How could you be so incompetent?” The courier snapped, turning his head away.

“I- I’m sorry it- it was just a simple favor, sir, I didn’t mean-”

“What’s going on?” Envelope could not contain her curiosity. Or her irritation at the harsh tone of someone who wore Moon’s title.

The citizen, a young coatl, dropped her head in embarrassment. “I just wanted him to wr-write a letter for my father. He’s off at the front lines of the Scarred Wasteland and I miss him- I’m not good with words and never learned to write on my own…” She stepped back with a low hum as if she might turn and run away.

“And it ain’t my job,” the golden nocturne replied sharply. “Now beat it.”

The coatl sniffled and turned to go, but Envelope laid her talons on her shoulder as the courier snorted and shuffled off. “Today it’s my job,” she produced a quill and parchment from her messenger bag. Gingerly, she held the pen between her claws, pinning it against a rock for balance. She turned a wide, curious gaze up to the distressed coatl. “What would you like to write for your father, my friend?”

So it began. A purpose. Many dragons in Sornieth couldn’t quite find the right words for the feelings they wanted to express. Many of them struggled even to write at all depending on their education and upbringing. Envelope wanted to be there for all of them. So she began writing and delivering letters to every dragon who had something they wanted to say, but, for whatever reason, couldn’t.

Envelope returned to Moon some weeks later and shared the news. He was incredibly proud of her, and he told her this so enthusiastically and earnestly that Envelope had never been more sure what path she should follow. She thanked him for all he’d done for her, and the duo said tearful farewells, promising to visit and keep in touch.

Envelope would eventually join up with a large clan in the Starfall Isles, but she spends much of her time traveling across the region- even across Sornieth. She has seen the entire world, its beauty and its pain, and she has learned how to speak for it. When a dragon struggles to come up with the proper words, Envelope will be there, pen in hand, to help them.”