Thirteen

Thirteen …

The unluckiest number. Irrational; not perfect. Cursed.

From the moment of hatching, it did not take long to determine why. The stares. The whispers. The avoidance by the rest of her clan. Even her family kept their distance.

Marked, out in the open for all to see, there was no way to deny it. The runes spoke the truth.

At first, she tried to deny it. To prove all others wrong. But it was difficult to change ways of thinking when no one else listened, and after a time and despite all her efforts, she knew what she had to do.

She’d heard tales of the Windswept Plateaus, and found them friendly enough upon arrival, accepting. She might have stayed, too, had she not overheard talk of one who, she hoped, might help. A gifted, experienced oracle living in the Sea of a Thousand Currents who was able to see the future. She ignored the warnings of their mysterious ways and unwillingness to share what they saw. She needed answers.

The moment the waters came into her view, she felt a change. A peace and calm that she’d not ever felt before. At first, she believed herself being watched, but she saw no one when she looked around. She traveled deeper in, still searching. The few dragons she met along the way were polite enough, even kind to the point of directing her to the Fishspine Reef, home to the oracle, but she could see in their eyes that they, too, believed she would find no satisfying answers to her quest.

Arriving at the Reef some months after her initial departure from her home, she was startled to find that it looked so … normal. She wasn’t certain what she expected; the Water Clan were some of the most renowned oracles in all of Sornieth; but they appeared to live common lives.

“What brings you to the Fishspine Reef, my child?”

She looked around, the sudden voice catching her off guard. To her left, a kindly looking older Snapper watched her with keen eyes. There was a softness around her face, a gentleness that put her to ease immediately. “I came seeking Mosswind,” she explained. Nodding at the runes that marked her, she added, “I came seeking answers, if she would be so generous.”

The older dragon lumbered forward, nodding her head slowly, her dark eyes moving as they read. “You are the one,” she murmured after several long moments.

“I am what?” Thirteen’s eyes widened, shocked by this pronouncement.

A soft chuckle shook the air around them. “I am Mosswind, child,” the Snapper explained, “and you are the one that the Tidelord came to me in my visions and promised would come to assist me.”

It took a long minute for the words to register. “But … I was told …?”

The chuckles bloomed into full-scale laughter. “You have been chosen, young one,” Mosswind explained, “by the Tidelord himself, no less.” Her head lowered slightly as she spoke his name, bobbing in respect. “As was I in my youth. That tells me you are welcome here among us.”

Welcome. After so long, the concept left her fuzzy-headed. When Mosswind nodded for her to follow, she managed to stumble along next to her. “And … my runes?” she asked after a time, finally recalling the reason for her visit. “My name?”

Smiling broadly, Mosswind assured her, “You will find, child, that here, the number thirteen is the luckiest of all ….”