Arch

He’d never had a name.

In the little dragon’s mind, things with names had homes. He had no home, so therefore he needed no name. Just a little nameless hatchling on the streets of a seaside town, peddling for coins any way he could - many times, that meant copying street dancers as they worked, but they often shooed him away out of knowledge he'd steal their show. So he did what he could to get by, echoing little melodies he'd heard from the performers, or the townsfolk, or the ocean.

The ocean sang him songs, and he played them out to those around him with unbridled joy. One day, a dragon stood next to him, listening to his melodies, seeming to get lost in the sound of the sea. As he finished, she looked down at him. "Where did you hear that song, little one?"

"The ocean sings. Don't you hear it?"

After giving him a strange look, she shook her head. "It seems you have a gift, little Sea Prince."

And thus was his name.
He was an adolescent when he met her - Alizia. A shining and beautiful skydancer whose smile could light up a room. She would often stop on her days of wandering just to watch Prince’s amazing performances, and he would always work a little bit harder when her shining feathers in the crowd caught his eye. At times she would sneak away from her rich family just to catch Prince at the tail-end of his performances so she could talk to him. They would stare at the sun sinking into the dark depths and they would laugh together, until Aliza’s parents came calling for her and she’d hurry off before they found out the reason for her rendezvous.

On one breezy day, Alizia was finally prepared to show Prince to her parents. Even though they’d likely disapprove, Prince agreed to it - he wished for their meetings to be more than midnight trysts.

Unfortunately, this would never happen.

Prince had been doing his usual dances in the street when a loud explosion occurred in the town's small shopping district. The crowd all swing their heads toward it, all manner of scales and feathers abristle in shock. Prince slowly stopped his dance and joined the crowd in staring up at the smoke column that rose a few blocks away.

Then another explosion boomed.

Then another, further away. Alizia.

Prince took flight. Ash and smoke blew in the air in stray winds that knocked his fragile frame around, but he flew through it.

Boom. More explosions shook the earth. Prince’s ears rang from the numerous blasts. The seaside town was set alight like kindling, buried in an ocean of flames and soot. Dragons flew up and away in a panic, Prince could see the occasional panicked dragon shoot out of the smoke, their wings smoldering and their face holding back pain.

He was relieved to find Alizia’s home intact when its grand form became visible to him through the hazy air. He winged his way down to it, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Alizia running to him. She called out to him, but he couldn’t hear.

Prince started running over to her and smiled as Alizia ran at him, oh how amazing that she’s come out unscath- boom.

Her house had been one of the buildings rigged to explode. Prince stared as the mansion erupted into flames with an explosive force. He was knocked away, but not by the blast. He looked forward and saw her: Alizia, her arms outstretched, standing right where Prince had been seconds before. She’d pushed him out of the way.

Like in slow motion, Prince watched the hot flames engulf her. The smoke hid her face as she shrieked, and Prince was filled with dread. He forced himself up from the singed grass and ran to the smoke and fire. His eyes watered. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t see anything through smoke. A second explosion went off before he could find Alizia, and he felt its hot heat blow into his face. Searing ash scorched his face but Prince hardly felt the pain. He was searching the area, but the flaming grass burned his feet and smoke choked his throat.

He remained determined to search, but his body could not force itself any longer. Prince collapsed onto the ground, his lungs burnt and his breathing shallow. He could no longer move, yet his burning eyes still searched the ground in front of him until he finally lost consciousness.

The fires had been caused by raiding bandits, who now scoured the destroyed city in search of any survivors. These bandits were the first to encounter Prince. Perhaps it was a cruel joke, or maybe the leader truly saw some potential in him, but the group didn’t kill the weak pearlcatcher. Instead, they took his unconscious body with them - they had bigger plans in mind.

An underground gladiator ring operated deep in the hot underground of the ashfall wastes. A hidden cave entrance and a spacious inside made for the perfect location. Inside, dragons were made to fight in the ring for the twisted entertainment of the bettors and gamblers outside.

Prince woke up to voices speaking around him. He still could hardly move his limbs, but when he tried, he could tell he was being held.

“Sir Marel, that doesn’t look like a volunteer.” One of the voices said flatly. Prince stole a look up, and saw a bothered looking blue-green coatl with a scroll and a pen.

“Naw,” said the other voice that held him. It was a much larger dragon than Prince or the coatl, and it had a gruff voice. “Look’em. He’s raring to go fight, he’s even awake now! Only a few hours after we hit his town, too. Strong fella, ‘specially fer a pearlcatcher.”

“Marel… please don’t lie to me. I’d say he looks… hmm… dainty, even.”

“Are you calling my fighter weak?”

The coatl let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Ripgut is fighting tonight. He’s the champion, you know? I’ll make sure your fighter is actually awake to fight him… and remember you get a cut of the profits from the match, so better hope it’s actually enjoyable to watch.”

With that, the coatl grabbed the stumbling Prince and headed toward a hole in the cave wall. Before he could make it far, though, he stopped and turned back at Prince’s original captor. Able to get a good look at him, Prince saw a massive ridgeback dragon wrapped in bandages and skulls. He felt ill just looking at the ridgeback, and quickly looked away.

“What?” Grumbled the ridgeback.

“We need a name to introduce him with.”

Prince tried his best to speak. “P- Pr-” he sputtered, but the coatl thwacked him with his wing.

“That’s not up to you. Marel, what name?”

After a brief thought, the Marel’s eyes lit up. “Call him Archmelis. Always wanted to see someone with that name fight.” him and his buddies with him chuckled a bit, like it was some sort of inside joke.

He focused all he had on walking with the coatl after that, trying not to pass out... or simply pass. Although Prince had a fairly sure view of what was about to happen, and he knew he was likely to pass once he got in the ring. He couldn’t move his legs properly and had burns on half of his body - How could he fight a dragon named Ripgut?

A small part of Archmelis longed for the ocean. He looked across the flowing lava plains and closed his eyes, imagining that the hot air was a gentle sea breeze caressing his burnt face.

It didn’t work.
The heat just made him uncomfortable, reminded him of her. Of the shrieks he couldn’t hear. How he never saw her body.

“You’ve a fight tonight, Arch.” a voice said, coming out of the cave behind him.

Arch turned to see familiar greenish feathers. “I know, Wetlands. I’m just-”

“Afraid you won’t win?” The coatl, Wetlands, finished. He let out a grumble and continued. “Dear mother, this again?” His crest fell flat in annoyance. “Have you considered you don't have a choice? Or are you being serious about it this time? You’ve won every other time; I'm beginning to think this is a joke.”

“It’s my arms.” Archmelis sighed. He raised his battle scarred arm, which shook with strain and wouldn’t stop shaking. “My wings are the same. I can’t fight like this. The crowd will just watch the champion of many years get crushed by some newcomer.”

“Well, that is an issue. We’ll have to find another- wait, what’s that?” Wetlands squinted across the lava fields and pointed at the trail in the distance. Arch’s eyes followed the direction of the point, and saw what had caught Wetlands’ interest.

“Newcomers.”

“Yeah, and a few of them. If they’ve got a fighter with them you may well be saved.” Wetlands hurried back into the caves to greet the visitors, and Archmelis cautiously followed. Wetlands took his position at the front and they waited patiently together for them to arrive.

When the group finally arrived, they were led by a loud and brash female skydancer. “So, this is the fighting arena I’ve heard about? Talk about a hole in the wall.” Her posse laughed along with her as she sauntered up to the main desk. “Sign me up, desk-guy.”

Wetlands’ crest raised in shock. “You? You want to sign up? Not a prisoner or anything?”

“You heard me. Put down my name, Green, I wanna brawl.”

Wetlands’ tongue flicked angrily. “Fine. Will do. I also need to know the fighter’s name, for the curious, mine is Wetlands - not Green.”

“Call me Vull.”

A quick swish of the pen and the paper had been filled out. “Alright then, ‘Vull’, you’re all ready. You’ll be fighting Pike, who is-“

“Nah, I won’t. I’m requesting to fight your champion,” the skydancers said confidently. Arch tensed up upon hearing a mention of him, and he moved a little closer to the wall.

“The champion isn’t available now,” Wetlands sighed.

“Yeah, he is,” argued the Vull, whose yellow eyes looked in Arch’s direction. “He’s right over there.” She pointed at him stared with her piercing eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of fear in years, and his arms, still shaking, seemed stuck to the floor.

Wetlands stood between Arch and Vull. “Listen, woman, I never said he wasn’t here. Just that he’s not available.”

“Well, listen here, Green,” Vull growled, getting into Wetlands’ space. “This is personal. You don’t know what it’s like to have a subordinate go missing, only to find out they've been killed by a stranger in some underground deathmatch. I’m going to fight that pearlcatcher, whether it’s official or not.”

“I’ll fight you.” Arch hadn’t even realized that he spoke. Or that he’d moved to be face-to-face with the skydancer. Maybe it was an unconscious desire, a will deep within him saying Please, stranger, take your revenge. Enact upon me all of the pain I've caused others. His expression was confident, but for the first time in a while, Arch was unsure of the battle’s outcome.

Vull was briefly taken aback by the pearlcatcher’s sudden change of heart, but a smile crossed her face. She looked at Arch with her searching eyes before turning to Wetlands and letting out a hearty laugh. “Great, all’s well then! Looks like I won’t need to cause any problems.”

With an angry glare at Vull, Wetlands slinked off to take the original fighter out of the prep room. As he passed Arch, he shot a confused expression in his direction, but looked away quickly. Arch sighed and slowly turned - he didn’t notice Vull steal a glance at his shaking arms as he walked away.

As he was preparing for the fight, Arch heard a shuffle in the room. His ears attentively shot up and his head immediately swung in the direction of the sound. It was Vull. Arch tensed up immediately. “Fighters aren’t supposed to-”

“I don’t care.” She waltzed over. “Your arms look awful. How many years you been fighting?”

Arch instinctively pulled his arms out of her view. “Lost count.” He replied. “I was in these caves for years. When I got out there’s so much smoke in the sky. I can’t see what day it is.”

“Ever thought about leaving?” She suggested.

Arch looked at her, struck by the suggestion. “Where would I go? This is my home. I have a name here. I couldn’t even fly away if I wanted.” He lifted his weak wings a little bit to show Vull.

“I see,” she sighed. She got up and walked back to the room’s exit. “Guess we’ll meet in the ring, then. I wish you luck, prince of the ring.” With that, she slipped out of the room.

Upon hearing those parting words, Arch began to sob. He hadn’t heard the name in years. Prince… she called him prince. She called him prince. Alizia. He didn’t bother preparing for the fight. He would face whatever came next as it came to him.

As he walked out into the ring, he saw her there. Silhouetted in the lights. The crowd around the pit was roaring, laughing, betting, gambling. While Arch was used to the noise, on this day he found it disorienting. He heard the signal to start, but couldn’t find the strength to move.

Vull launched herself at him, claws bared. He tried to defend but his arms wouldn’t move. He heard the crowd. Why was today different? Why couldn’t he just fight her? For the first time since that initial fight long ago, he blocked out the match happening around him. It was all he could do to dodge.

His movements were slow, too slow. Vull cut him, again and again. They were small cuts but they added up - Arch could tell she was an adept fighter. Before he could force himself to attack, she changed her tactics. She hit him with a quick and heavy blow to the head, and he fell to the ground. He tried to get up, but his vision was growing dark at the edges. I’m just too weak-

Before he could finish his thought, there was a sound he’d hoped he’d never have to hear again. Boom. An explosion, close by. In the cave. In the cave. There was shouting. There was yelling, the stomping of feet. Arch couldn’t bring himself to move even as the roof collapsed. This is a fitting end to me…

Arch smelled the scent of the sea. He thought maybe he’d died. Why else would he be smelling the sea? There was no sea in the ashfall wastes.

“Oh! Vulley, he’s waking up!” It was an unfamiliar voice. Arch could hear the sound of seagulls squawking far in the sky. Waves. Water. It sang to him.

Then there was another voice. He recognized it. “Oh, is he?” With great effort, Arch opened and blinked his blurry eyes and saw Vull from before. The dragon standing over him was a starry brown coatl with concern in his eyes.

“Well, sorta…” the coatl replied.

“Wait-” Arch forced himself to speak, and both the dragons looked at him intently. “Why didn’t you kill me? The explosion. Your revenge…”

“Oh please,” snapped the skydancer. “I could see the moment you volunteered for the fight that you felt the retribution was deserved.”

The coatl joined in with a chuckle. “Yeah, cap’n isn’t gonna kill someone who isn’t deserving, that’s for- '' He was interrupted by a bonk on the head by Vull.

“Tasaren, at least let me introduce myself first. Anyway,” she turned back to Arch. “The explosions were planned regardless of whether I killed you. The guy who ran the ring owed me money, and most of the people there were awful anyway. We saved the other guy who was being forced to fight, too.”

Still a bit out of it and wary of his surroundings, Arch looked around. They were indeed out at sea, and the gentle rocking told him that they were on a boat. A little further away on the deck, there was another dragon being tended to by a different coatl. Arch finally asked the question that had been resting his mind. “Who are you?”

With a confident smile, the skydancer did an elaborate bow. “Pirate captain Vullesaire Templar-Siph, of the (no name yet) pirates. Also known as your new boss… at least until we reach land again. You can leave then-”

“Please let me stay!” Arch blurted out, but then he looked away, embarrassed by his own outburst. “Sorry, I-”

“Welcome to the crew.”