1/3 ever, only active and unexalted

Cassiopeia always knew she was special.

Her father was a demigod, her mother serving in the ranks of the Gladekeeper.

Her coloration did not reflect the icy land where she had been born, but did she not have the royal insignia, emblazoned across her head and wingtips? Therefore she was destined to rule, she thought.

Others felt differently. They mocked her for her brown body, “Unworthy of the power of the stars,” they said. They feared her for her parentage, “Daughter of flame and shadow! She will be a powerful force for evil.” As an Ice clan, they looked askance at any dragon that did not blend in with the scenery. And they pretended not to notice her crown, as it blended in with her starry body so well that it was easy to overlook.

She took no notice of them. Petty fools! They would soon see. She would work to become the best mage, warrior, scholar, and bard of all, so that dragons would flock to her court to learn.

But her fighting ability soon proved very weak, and the power of the stars that some thought was in her claws...well, if it was there, she did not know how to use it. Her voice would not go where the singing tutor directed, but continued warbling and humming off-key in the manner of her species. She did not have difficulty reading the scrolls that were present in the clan, but they dealt so much with the affairs of the demigods that she did not see what practical application they could possibly have. And obtaining more was...difficult.

She found that there was one thing in her favor. She could be very persuasive. She learned how to wheedle the traders that passed through to sell her any scrolls they might have on hand. She learned how to wheedle her fellow clan members out of their treasures. She learned the most effective timing, the best times to let out one of her flutey warbles, when to pause, when to let the listener assume the rest of her sentence, when to prattle on about nothing and when to let an important piece of information drop.

The others began to have a different opinion of her. “She’s not that ugly. She usually gets what she wants. She’s nice to talk to. She might become clan leader someday.”

The clan leader heard about this, and, fearing a coup, immediately banished her from the icebound lands. She vowed revenge, but all she had was her wits.

Her wits carried her along through the lands of the Windsinger, where she met fast-talking dragons who could almost out-wheedle her. They carried her through the lands of the Arcanist, where she learned, finally, how to do something with the power within her. It was not as great as it might have been, but it was enough. She headed south through the Plaguebringer’s lands, where she learned to survive in the hardest of circumstances. Then she determined it was time to return home, to have her revenge.

She passed over the Sea of a Thousand Currents, stopping down every time she saw the tip of an underwater mountain peak above the water. As she reached the southern edge, she thought perhaps a Water seer might have some advice for her.

A mid-sized clan on the shore of the Sea had a seer from the depths of the ocean. The seer gazed on Cassiopeia for a long moment, then turned to her scry glass.

“Life without love is hard to bear.
The knowledge you’ve gained, the crown you wear,
The struggle you’ve had, the power within,
The starmap that marks you, the crocodile grin,
The lessons you’ve learned, the revenge you seek
All these will be lost, and your life come to grief.
For without a mate to rule at your side,
You will think, at the last, that you wish you had died.”

Cassiopeia did not understand what that meant. “So I should give up my quest?”

The seer replied,
“A life with love is much better to bear.
The knowledge you’ve gained, the crown you wear,
The struggle you’ve had, the power within,
The starmap that marks you, the crocodile grin,
The lessons you’ve learned, the revenge you would get
All these will be lost, but without a regret.
For with a mate beside you, helping you on,
You will think, all those things, they are better now, gone.”

The seer was silent. Her mate spoke up, seeing that Cassiopeia was still confused. “She sees you at a crossroads. You can continue your quest for revenge, and gain all you desire, but in the end you will regret it. Or you can settle down with a mate, far from your homeland, and no longer need all the tricks, spells, survival skills, and powers you have gained. And if you do this, you will think it worth the loss.”

“I see,” Cassiopeia said, although she didn’t really. She left the cave, pondering the seer’s words. She was so lost in thought that she did not even see the Skydancer until it was too late.

“Oh, excuse me!” he said, picking himself up off the ground. “I should have been looking where I was going.”

She was about to respond, when she noticed that he had a rather odd look on his face. “What is it?” she asked.

“Your feathers,” he breathed. He ruffled his own, also marked with a starmap. “I--I’ve never seen another one. I thought I was the only one…”

“Of course not,” she said.

“And your wings! They are beautiful. Like the reflection of the sky on the sea at night.” He blushed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t had said that.”

“No one has ever said that anything about me was beautiful before,” she responded. “Thank you.” She began to wonder if it really would be such a bad tradeoff, to stay here and forget all about her past.

Balkan, the Skydancer, soon became her mate. Together they worked with the hatchlings in the clan, for that had been his job, and she assisted the clan’s archivist and helped to keep the records clean and tidy. She found that persuasive charm was extremely useful in wheedling a hatchling to do just what it didn’t want to do. And sometimes, at night, she and Balkan would fly out over the sea, and she would cast harmless spells that floated down and turned the air to glittering, icy beauty, but only for a moment. She never had to fight to survive again.