Caoilte

(Sssh - he's pronounced Kveel-che)

It began here.

Oh, come on, The Shade sneers. For real, deities? You think a little more magic defeats me.
It shudders, though, when it tries to reach for the realm. It's too late already; in a matter of seconds, the magic energy has surpassed the level The Shade's comfortable dealing with. The raw magic hisses and sizzles, and It draws back before It gets weakened again.
Despite still being to weak to enter the realm, The Shade laughs to Itself. Did you think entering your realm myself was my only option? Pathetic, It scoffs.
With that, It turns away; they don't need to know any more. It can wait. It already knows what to do, has long spun the threads of connection to the deities' island. All It has to do is wait. It has not only one chance, but eleven. One will succeed, and even if not, they don't know what will happen in the meantime. If all plans go wrong, they will still cause enough trouble to, maybe,...
The Shade laughs as it imagines the chaos It will cause. It curls itself together and tightens It's grip, concentrates on the eleven pathways, and sends It's power through.
Arise, my prophets. The time has come.

The plan is perfect - perfect, except for one thing: The Shade is not cut out to be a babysitter. Somehow, It always overlooked that detail in planning, that tiny, stupid fact that dragons were not born as mature adults.
On the contrary: those oh-so mighty beings are not even able to talk when they hatch. Much less, to understand language. Not even this 'common draconian' stuff It had learned especially for this moment.
And while It doesn't need to rest, which is a big plus, It can't keep the dumb, clumsy hatchling from chasing the snowflakes of it's hatchplace. The ocean isn't far enough away, but It still doesn't worry about that much. The bigger problem are the elemental energies surounding the plushy kid.
Failure. I can't accept that, The Shade growls softly. Suddenly, eleven seems like a terribly low number for so terribly many ways to die, so many crazy clashings of energy. And the power is still growing.
It considers abandoning the hatchling, starting over, maybe one of the others is cut out better to survive. But It quickly realizes that this won't do. It can't lose even one of It's threads, and the place where the hatchling stumbles around is the biggest out of all of them. The chance to meet a deity-corrupted dragon is low, after all. And the chance to get caught in a battle of elements is lower than anywhere else.
So, The Shade has no choice but to watch the hatchling tumble around, and send an occassional wave of pain when it gets too close to the water.

It seems like the battle is over for now, but Caoilte doesn't dare to come out just yet. After the rampage of wind and ice lasted four days, it seems too early. Too risky. Ice primals and neo-gaolers are still lurking around, and the zephyrs... better not get Shady started on the zephyrs.
On the other hand - after sitting still and cowering in fear for four days straight, he's starving, and he knows that it'll take him a while to find leftover plants under the snow. The primals don't eat, but none of them care about the plant life any more. Except maybe for the nature primals Shady's told him about, he doesn't know that yet.
Move, The Shade commands him in a gruff voice. Caoilte knows It's getting impatient after the battle, and he senses the feeling of uneasiness It gives off. Seeing the elemental showdown isn't easy for him, either.
"I can't", he explains softly, hoping that the falling snow will smother whatever bit of his voice escapes the hole he's dug. "They're still around."
You know you don't need to be afraid of the gaolers, It snaps.
"Probably not-"
Definitely not!
Caoilte pauses and grinds his teeth. "Fine, whatever, your blessing and blah. But the zephyrs can still-" And that's when he notices that he messed up.
Those darned wind critters, The Shade rants. I will show them. No, you will show them. It's about time you learn to rip some throats!
"Uh-huh."
He knows it's better not to say anything. Shady's been that way since he was almost killed by a zephyr that discovered him in the snow when he was barely a day old, and he doubts It will ever shut up about it. Apparently, some gaoler saved him accidentally, but he doesn't remember it that way. What he remembers is feeling a oppressive desire to kill oozing from the frozen ball of fur, and then landing on he ground and a sharp pain jolting through his leg. Mostly the pain. For a hatchling this age, breaking a leg usually meant death. Heck, for a common-eyed hatchling like him, meeting a neo-gaoler meant death. But he'd survived, thanks to Shady's powers, it seems. Having It in his head isn't that useless after all, although he'd never admit that.
Now get up, you bunch of useless fur! If you're that afraid of wind critters, you can just go die., The Shade ends his tirade in a dangerously low tone.
Caoilte sighs. He knows that at this point, he has to move or It will threaten to abandon him again. And while he's gotten a bit more independend lately, he knows he won't be able to survive for long if It does.
"Fine", he mutters and climbs out of his hole. He limps away as far as he can, just in case they discover him. They can't freeze his heart, but he'll be powerless as any dragon if they decide to trample him. And he especially won't be able to escape if they do. Shady or not.
Said presence grunts in annoyance. You know, you could try taking a bite out of some of these critters. Can't be that bad.
Caoilte, for the first time in days, almost laughs. "Eat meat, and some full of elemental energy on top of that? I'll pass, Shady."
Don't call me that.

Raz knows she is The Shade's favourite, and she isn't about to give up on this position. But this? This is plain ridiculous.
"You want me to what?!"
Heal him. He'll be useful., The Shade snarls impatiently.
"This... isn't what I do", she explains carefully, knowing fully well she's on thin ice. "You know that. I kill primals. I do not save them."
Which is true; the main reason she gained her position is that her kills already are in the dozens, maybe hundreds, despite hatching only a month ago. Another reason is that she's immune to the spreading plague that has already killed at least one prophet. She only knows this because The Shade was a little more grumpy than usual that day.
It sighs, sounding disappointed, and Raz knows she screwed up. Exactly, It hisses. But you are inefficient. Only killing one primal at a time, and you're still at a loss when you're up against an abberation. A lot helps a lot, as you should know.
"I... you want me to recruit him?"
We'll see. For now, we need to increase your fighting abilities.
"But- but I already am the strongest of all prophets!", Raz protests. "I don't need it! The others need teaching, not me!"
You're the best, The Shade agrees. Which is exactly why you need it. You're the most promising warrior, I can't afford to lose the damage you cause. Since you're talented, I expect you to be able to grow even stronger. But, you need to keep one thing in mind. I the end, you're a prophet, not a warrior.
Raz scrunches up her nose when she notices It says lose the damage, not lose her. Which means she's still replaceable. "I get it. You want to promote me."
When It answers Yes... and no, it sends a chill down her spine.
You see, Raz... your task as a prophet isn't exactly to kill, but to cause destruction. And while you're superior to the others in the former, there is one dragon that rivals you in the latter.
"What?!", she cries out.
I won't interfere with your way; if you want to be a fighter, you can. I want to make sure you can use your full potential. Let me or not let me, it's your choice. The Shade chuckles.
Raz' heart is racing, almost exploding in her chest. "Who is it?!", she demands. "Tell me their name. No, tell me which territory they're in! Let me go there and kill them!"
She makes more demands, each one more ridiculous than the one before. But It doesn't answer to any of them. Not until she growls, and falters, and finally realizes that of course It won't allow her to know more about this other prophet.
With a flick of her tail, she points to the unconscious primal on the ground. "So why him", she huffs. "It's just another one of them. Why not at least take an abberation, or a zephyr?"
There is no talking sense into them. They've gotten too close to the sun.
Raz peeks at the dense blanket of clouds.
...that's a saying., The Shade explains gruffly. Anyway, this dragon wasn't born a primal but made one, so his connection to the elements is weaker. I should be able to control him if you suppress his consciousness long enough.
"You mean KO him."
I knew you'd understand.
Raz can't help but smile.
The Shade, though, isn't done talking, and It's next words sting like thorns. But since you're not capable of keeping him alive, we'll need the help of another prophet. Her name is L'vana. Since you're the sturdier one, you'll have to go and take her here.
"Take her here...", she mutters. "The plague alone will kill her."
The Shade surely hears her, but It chooses to stay silent.

L'vana can't believe it at first. And with 'it', she means two things: one, that a prophet is coming here, and two, that The Shade is actually talking to her.
"You're... what?"
I'm not repeating myself, It snaps. Did you understand me?
"A... a prophet is coming here", she stutters. "Because they need me to... heal a primal?"
Exactly. Maybe you're not useless after all, The Shade hisses, and L'vana still can't believe she's hearing It again. Now listen up. This is your only chance to prove yourself. If you fail, I'll abandon you once and for all. That means good luck surviving without my blessing. It pauses. But if you succeed... I shall grant you even greater powers.
"I will not disappoint you!", she promises quickly.
That, we'll see.
And with that, It's gone, and she's alone once more.
Healing a primal. L'vana's heart beats faster from just thinking about it. She knows her healing abilities aren't good enough to justify the faith The Shade puts in her, but this only means that It has no other choice. It means that even if her healing abilities are subpar, she's still the best healer out of all prophets.
...which makes sense. Being Shade's prophet is not about healing, not at all. It's rather about destroying. But even so, L'vana has learned something that probably no other prophet knows about: that while they're The Shade's ambassadors, they're also still dragons, and dragonkin helps each other.
She sighs. This is exactly the kind of thought It abandoned her for in the first place. It didn't bother her at first, because at the time, she wasn't alone, but now...
L'vana gently touches the bones dangling from her wings. "I'll succeed", she mutters, and it sounds like and apology of some kind. "I'll complete your mission, I promise. But I need The Shade for it, the greater power it promised. I'm certain that's why it didn't work before." She pauses and gazes towards the back of the cave. But she can't bring herself to go there. It's still too painful.
"Why it didn't work with you.", she says, her voice small.
Then, the dragon stretches herself and shakes her head, as if to chase away the thought. "I need to prepare", she tells herself. "I only have about a week until the other prophet is here. I should meet her at the border so she won't have to deal with more burgeons that necessary. And I'll need herbs, too."
L'vana scurries into the undergrowth and disappears from view.