Peril
(#63040091)
it is the things we love most that destroy us
Rancor
Spoiling Scorpio
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 0/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Light.
Female Skydancer
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
5.11 m
Wingspan
3.34 m
Weight
764.03 kg
Genetics
Garnet
Starmap
Starmap
Crimson
Constellation
Constellation
Sanguine
Opal
Opal
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 5 Skydancer
EXP: 4561 / 5545
STR
4
AGI
5
DEF
4
QCK
15
INT
27
VIT
4
MND
9
Lineage
Parents
Offspring
- Blister
- Blaze
- Burn
- Prophecy
- Destruction
- Blaze
- Vengeance
- Pride
- Valor
- Warrior
- Comet
- Charmer
- Littlejaw
- Mineshadow
- Sorcerous
- Heretic
- Bloomthorn
- Nightfire
- Rageclaw
- Heart
- Slitherstrike
- Venture
- Essex
- Atrasia
- Battlemyst
- Dancingspirit
- Sorcery
- Hawkhorn
- Raindrop
- Pumpkin
- Angelsky
- Poisoner
- Soulcatcher
- Stormbone
- Rainscale
- Duskshine
- Sweetleaf
- Instigator
- Flamechaser
- BloodCry
- Ridgeback
- Fissure
- Rowan
- Serephen
Biography
peril 
it was time to live up to her namesake.
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peril wrote: you okay? i'm okay. crazy, huh? crazy. uh. we're doing good. we're doing well. (i know. i know. i'll go to hell.) being good has got me nowhere, being good is never fine, being good just means you're content to stand still while siblings die. a rose is beautiful in bearing yet rarely lasts beyond a week. and thorns that drag, with cutting jags, enchanting 'til you're in deep sleep. a mirror shows one's own reflection smiling back with little stress, a mirror is a smooth impression 'til it's glass shards, a bloody mess. "you're being selfish and unkind," "people would kill to save a life!" well i'm ending them, with the mirror's knife watch out for glass, glinting dead-bright. |
   
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It began with the setting of the sun and the rise of the moon. As the stars poked out of the clouds and Peril stood alone on the cold sandy shore, staring at the distant waves, she wondered where it went so horribly, terribly wrong.
It began, like all adventures, with the best of intentions. Foolhardy and reckless as their mother told them, irresponsible as their father said, but brilliant all the same.
It began with a sister, a friend, and a lover. An idea hatched in the schoolyard on a hot summer day, a bond and a pledge formed beneath the shadows of an oak tree. A promise to each other and the world.
It began when her sister sat down next to her and said, “Do you want to rob a bank?”
“What are you talking about?” Peril asked, not bothering to look up from her book even as her sister leaned heavily against her. Hazel had always been like that, the younger sister and so apt to get in her way. By now, Peril was used to her antics and barely blinked. She turned a page and shifted her book slightly to see past Hazel’s enormous head. The things she did for family.
“We should rob a bank.” Hazel tilted her head back, leaning her full weight against Peril’s arm and catching Peril’s eye. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“A bank,” Peril repeated dully, but she dutifully closed her book and set it aside, shifting to a more comfortable position with Hazel leaning against her shoulder instead. “Alright,” she said, ruffling Hazel’s feathers affectionately. “You have my attention. What exactly are you going on about now?”
“Well,” said Hazel, preening, “you know how the Arcanist is pretty much all about, ‘why not’ what with his whole signaling the Shade and all that? Well, Roan—you know Roan, right? That cute boy who lives across the way—he says that some crazy corrupt dragons were making this loan shark business, and that they were raising the interest so high that people ended up having to sell their entire lair to pay it back. And then I said, ‘That’s not right, they shouldn’t be taking people’s treasure like that.’ And Roan said, ‘There was nothing we can do about it,’ because he’s always such a downer. I swear that boy doesn’t do anything but complain. So I said, ‘Let’s do something about it, because if the Arcanist taught us nothing, it was that we should do it.’ Besides, it’s not a bad idea if a deity did it, you know? If anything, this is like getting the Arcanist’s blessing, or the closest thing to it.” Hazel paused, brows furrowing. “… Do you think the Plaguebringer gives out blessings? Maybe we should go with her ideals instead, but I think that involves a lot of killing off nature and stuff? And I like flowers, thank you very much. No offense, Plaguemomma,” Hazel added, glancing at the sky. “But anyways, that’s it! That’s my idea. So yeah or nah? You wanna rob a bank together?”
“Whoa, what.” Peril sat up so suddenly that Hazel fell over with a soft oomph, not that Hazel looked bothered. If anything, she looked thrilled. “You want to rob a bank because the Arcanist told you to?”
“No,” Hazel said, crossing her arms petulantly. “I want to rob a bank because it’s the right thing to do.” Hazel rolled her eyes, even as she took a second to brush dirt off her outfit. “I swear, nobody listens to anything I say.”
“I’m sorry,” Peril said wryly, shaking her head, “I was a bit caught up on the fact that you said the Arcanist would say it’s a good idea.”
“Well, he would,” Hazel muttered. “Are you in or not? ‘Cause Roan and I, we’re gonna do this. At least I assume we are. Roan kinda looked at me with his weird squinty eyes, but he didn’t say no, so I’m totally taking that as a yes. And you better say yes too ‘cause I swear, if you say no, then I’m going to—“
“Alright, stop. Stop,” Peril said, waving a hand. “Just stop talking for one second. You want to rob a bank.” Peril shot her a hard look. “Do you even know how you’re gonna do that?”
“Well,” Hazel said, and Peril was really starting to dread hearing her sister say that. “See, Roan actually knows Trist, who knows Han, who knows Fizz, and Fizz says that his brother in law actually works at the place, and was complaining about how lax security was and all that. So I figured we’d kinda just waltz in there and be like, ‘Bam! We’re robbing the place!’ and then we’re out. Easy peasy.”
Peril stared at her. “… There are so many things wrong with that, that I don’t even know where to start.” She sighed, shaking her head. Alright, well, say somehow that works, which it won’t”—she glared at her sister when she opened her mouth to argue—“No, listen. What are you going to do then? We’re not a bunch of kids anymore, we can’t just go to our parents and say we made a mistake. This is an actual criminal offense that has actual consequences.”
“I think you’re making this into a bigger deal than it is.”
“Am I? Because you are the one who wants to rob a bank.”
“Look, sis,” she said, crossing her arms. “You gotta look at the big picture. We save these dragons, give them back their money from the people who stole it, and we’re scott free. And for the rest, I dunno, maybe give it to charity? I’m sure we’d find something to do with it. Heck, who knows, maybe we could use it to fund a new group or something. A group to free the oppressed and all that. Or— Oh my god, and we could become our very own Robin Hood!”
“He’s a fictional character,” Peril said, but Hazel wasn’t even listening anymore.
“Wouldn’t that be so cool?” Hazel gushed. “We’d be like, the saviors of dragonkind! And everyone would love us, and there’d be stories and plays written about us. Do you think we’d get famous? Or—“
“This is such a terrible idea,” Peril said, staring in askance at the sky. “Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna do this no matter what I say?”
“Oh, ‘cause I totally am,” Hazel said, grinning and playfully shoving her. “C’mon! It’ll be fun.”
Peril was the older sister. The responsible one, the person always keeping her sister out of trouble. She’d done it her whole life, and would always do so. She knew the smart thing to do would be to whack Hazel over her head and drag her back home and vow never to talk about it again. But the way Hazel looked, eyes so bright, so determined. It was hard to say no in the face of her enthusiasm, harder even to think of keeping her from trying when she so desperately wanted to.
If anything, when it didn’t work out, Peril could say she told her so. Until then, the least she could do was make sure her little sister didn’t get killed.
“Alright,” Peril said with a sigh. “Alright, sure. I’m just there to keep you out of trouble, mind you.”
“Yes!” Hazel squealed. “I knew you’d agree! This is going to be so great! I’ll go tell Roan!”
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and despite herself, Peril found herself smiling at her sister’s antics. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “And if we die, I’m blaming you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” her sister said, waving her off. “You just wait and see! It’ll be great!”
Looking back, Peril still wasn’t sure how they had been able to pull it off. She’d gone over the day countless times in her memories, replaying it over and over, and still, she never could figure it out. A combination of luck and skill and Hazel’s optimism. A mishmash of pieces that shouldn’t have worked, and somehow did.
Perhaps the guards were particularly lax that day, barely blinking as three dragons rushed them with masks on and roaring. Perhaps something else was at work, an inside man who pulled some strings to make it easier. Perhaps Hazel did more than threaten the bank teller into letting them into the vault. Perhaps Roan did more when he smashed the bank’s security cameras.
Perhaps, somehow, they actually worked well as a team despite meeting only once the day before to go over the plan, the sun beating down on them as they bent over the spare bit of parchment, words hastily scrawled in Hazel’s chicken scratch, and Peril shaking her head because it would never work and who were they kidding.
It worked as perfectly as Hazel had envisioned, escaping with bags of treasure, Hazel giddily laughing and Peril unable to believe they’d actually gotten away with it.
It worked as Roan carted away the piles of goods with a list of names in hand, promising to give it to the dragons who’d lost the treasure in the first place
It worked as Hazel began receiving fan mail, dragons thanking her for what she’d done, sharing their heart-wrenching stories of losing everything they had just for a stupid loan from a shady bank. Of living on the streets and starving, begging for any bits of coin just to feed their hatchlings. Of how they were going to pay it forward, to share her kindness with others, how grateful they were that she showed up when she did..
It worked too well, the ball rolling and tumbling, and suddenly Peril found herself dragged on adventure after adventure, Hazel touting another story from another needy dragon about some shady dealings or corrupted officials or oppressed workers.
Suddenly Peril found they were the new owners of an entire building, filled to the brim with people all eager to help, and Roan standing beside her, directing another shipment of supplies that arrived to feed everyone. Meanwhile Hazel was off on another adventure with an entire band of volunteers to save yet another town from yet another evil overlord.
Roan glanced at her, and something must have shown on her face because he raised an eyebrow and asked, “You okay?”
“Fine,” she said, shaking her head, wondering for the hundredth time how they had come so far. “What did you need again?”
It was hard to believe that their small group had expanded from just the three of them, to five, to ten, to suddenly a few dozen, all because they believed in Hazel’s vision when Peril still wasn’t quite sure what her sister’s plan was.
Let’s free these people, Hazel said, and two days later would say, We can’t leave them behind! That’s mean! A week passed and she said, Let’s make a place for them! Then, We’re helping people, that’s all that matters!
But when do you plan to stop? Peril had implored, cornering her sister for the few scant minutes before she dashed off to who knows what new idea she had next. This has been going on for a while, don’t you think maybe you should stop?
But her sister just brushed her off, called her a downer and said, You know you can leave if you want. The door’s right there.
“We need help unpacking,” Roan was saying, pointing to the boxes in the corner. Food for the volunteers who lived here full time, ther crates already gone ahead to wherever Hazel was that day to help pass out to the needy. “You down?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling as if she had somehow been relegated to being her sister’s personal assistant. “I can do that.”
Roan peered at her, his brown eyes narrowed so much he was practically squinting. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You’ve looked a bit peaky since Hazel took off.“
“It’s fine,” she said, sighing. Then, “I thought I would be doing something else with my life.”
“Oh, same,” Roan said, grinning as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed all casual and cool. “It’s great, isn’t it? Doing something like this, making a difference. Thought I’d follow in my dad’s footsteps, open up a shop. ‘Cept now I’m here. Can’t really see myself going back after all this, ya know?”
Peril swallowed. It was just her then, wasn’t it? “I suppose,” she said, forcing her voice to be light and airy. “I’ll get started. Did you need anything else?”
“Nah.” Roan shook his head. “That’s it for now. Probably be more to do once Hazel comes back. She might bring some more folk who’ll want to join.”
“That’s good.”
Peril watched as Roan ambled off, whistling a jaunty tune, and she sighed again. It felt surreal, everything that had happened. Just a few months ago and things were normal and made sense. Now, it was like they were in their very own storybook, saving princesses and fighting bad guys.
Now it was like Peril stood out of her depth while her sister took to it like a duck to water, not even looking back, not even caring as she rushed headlong into adventure.
Was it ever going to end?
“Hey,” her sister greeted, grinning, having just returned from her adventure that day. “Crazy day, huh?”
Peril was sitting by her desk, a book spread open and the moon just visible in the window. She scooted her chair back a bit, turning to face Hazel as her sister shut the door behind her.
“Crazy,” Peril agreed, even though she did nothing more than inventory supplies. The most interesting thing that had happened was when she lost her pen and found it half an hour later dropped between some boxes. “How did it go?”
“Oh, it was great!” Hazel gushed as she dumped her things in a heap by the side of her bed. “We did so so much! We gave some supplies to the poorer areas in town, and after that we hit up one of those fancy mansions to steal some stuff. Nothing too big, obviously, but still! Every bit counts! And then on our way back, we ended up stopping by that cute cafe down the street for some cakes. I’ll bring you back some next time, promise. Their cakes are to die for! But enough about me, what about you?”
“Oh, nothing,” Peril said, casting around for something nicer to say than boring. “Quiet for sure.”
“Yeah?” Hazel tilted her head. “Ya know, Roan mentioned you were a bit off today? Like, I dunno, quiet? Or weird? He’s not the best at words. But, you know you can tell me if anything’s wrong, right? We’re sisters, we’re in this together.”
Peril pretended she didn’t notice the way Hazel’s voice softened when she mentioned Roan, until it wasn’t just Roan, but Roan. “I know,” Peril said, and she did. It was just Hazel got so enthusiastic, so chirpy that Peril wasn’t always sure if she could get through to her. “I think I’m just homesick.”
“Aww,” Hazel said, eyes softening. She flopped down onto Peril’s bed—apparently Peril’s bed was softer and comfier by far, even though Peril had offered to swap on more than one occasion—and knocking the pillow onto the ground. “Whoops,” she said, scooping to pick it up. “But, Peril, you know we’re doing good, right? Like, this is important. People would kill to be able to do what we’re doing, and we’re making such a big difference right now.”
“I know,” Peril repeated, glancing away. She’d had it repeated to her hundreds of times by now, heard it on the lips of everyone they met. And yet…
“It makes sense to be homesick, I’d be too,” Hazel continued, idly picking at the pillow in her hands. “But don’t you think it’s a little bit selfish? To be thinking about yourself when there are so many people suffering? There’s so much we could be doing to help instead of just wishing for something else. You know what, why don’t you help us tomorrow? There’s this place two towns over with this crazy corrupt official whose making everyone’s life horrible. Maybe being able to see that will help. You’ve been cooped up for a while. I didn’t mean to make it seem like you couldn’t come with, you must’ve felt so left behind. That’s completely on me. I’m sorry. But, you’ll see, it’s good.”
Good. Yes, of course they were doing good. Except—
“You don’t think the place is getting a bit… crowded?” Peril ventured. They kept getting more and more dragons looking for a better place to live, or something to believe in. But it was starting to be overwhelming, people crammed into little rooms sometimes five at a time, more if they could fit it. There weren’t even enough beds for everyone.
Thankfully Peril, Roan, and Hazel’s rooms were still their own. But did that make her selfish too? To be glad that their rooms weren’t overcrowded as well?
She knew what Hazel would think. She knew how Hazel would do, that disappointment, the shake of her head. I didn’t think you were selfish, Hazel would say, and Peril would wince because she wasn’t, she just wasn’t as giving as Hazel was. Did that make her selfish?
“It’s not crowded,” Hazel said, frowning. “Like, sure, there’s lots more people, but that’s normal. Of course it’d seem more crowded than when it was just us three. You’re just not used to it yet. You’ll see.”
“I guess,” Peril said, wondering why she felt so twisted inside anyways. Hazel was right, though. There were a lot who were out there that had it worse than them, and here they were, sitting on a pile of gold and giving it away. They were good, even if it wasn’t perfect. But nothing was perfect, was it? They were just doing the best they could with the things they had, and that was all that mattered.
So why then was her heart still beating such a rickety rhythm? Why did something inside her feel so horribly off?
“Peril.” And here Hazel sighed, hugging the pillow to her chest. “I love you, you know that, right? I’d never do anything to hurt you. But you have to remember that this is so much more than just us. It’s about the world. Come with us tomorrow. It’ll be better, I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”
“Alright,” Peril said. “Alright, that sounds like a good idea.” She had been cooped up for a while. Maybe it was time to see them in action, to remind herself of why they were doing this.
This was fine.
Hazel was right. The things they were doing were so wonderful, so extraordinary. Regular people couldn’t do this. Regular people couldn’t make this out of nothing. Who was she to be constantly questioning things? To be whining and sulking about how nothing was pitch perfect, to be so ungrateful for the chance she was given when they were doing so much for so many.
She was right, and Peril was glad to watch as everything grew and developed. To see Hazel so happy and proud of what they’d done. Time passed in a blur, and there was nothing they couldn’t accomplish. The world was their oyster, and everything was at their fingertips.
Hazel was right up until she wasn’t. Until she decided to take on someone too big and powerful, someone with too many resources when they had too little information. Until there were more guards than they anticipated, the vault not in the study like they were told and instead on the other side of the mansion.
Hazel was right until she decided that the best course of action was to reconvene on the beach, everyone splitting up and taking a portion of the loot. They can’t chase all of us, she said, with a cheeky wave and a too wide grin. C’mon, we haven’t lost yet and I don’t plan to.
Hazel was right until Peril stood alone on the beach, the wind whipping through her hair, and the others having long given up and left to wait for them back at base, shaking their heads and telling her she was worrying too much, that Hazel would be fine, just wait.
Hazel was right until the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the sky painted orange and purple and the moon poking its head out, and still she was nowhere to be seen. The air was cooler now, and Peril stood, listening to the waves crash against the shore, alone. Waiting.
Please, she prayed to someone, anyone. Please.
No one answered her except the distant cries of the gulls, the moon shining so brilliantly, so mockingly down at her in the dark, cold night.
Please.
She was alone, and no one was there to see her shatter.
Roan found her there the next day, the morning air cool and foggy. Sand crunched beneath his steps, slow, steady, and too loud in the oppressive morning silence. Peril barely stirred as she blinked blearily up at him from where she’d collapsed the night before.
“Hey,” he said, awkwardly, nervously. “You okay?”
Peril opened her mouth, swallowed, shook her head. She couldn’t say anything. Didn’t want to voice what was running through her head. To acknowledge it. If she did… her tenuous control would slip and she wouldn’t be able to stop. If she said it, she’d never stop crying.
It. As if that was all she was now. An it instead of a her and to never be there again. Just a footnote at the end of the chapter, just a blip in history. No longer Peril and Hazel, and Hazel and Peril. Just Peril, alone, and sobbing, and—
Peril swallowed, throat dry and blinking rapidly to hold back the tears.
Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.
“So uh,” Roan was saying, and Peril had almost forgotten he was there. “Wasn’t all bad, ya know? Got a lot of stuff last night, even though Hazel”—he coughed, maybe realizing she didn’t want to hear it—“well, anyways. It wasn’t in vain is what I’m saying. We did good.”
Good.
Good. The mantra Hazel had pounded into her head for the past few years, had said time and time again every time Peril wavered and faltered and questioned. They were so good, so righteous. Everything Peril had struggled against, everything she’d thought, Hazel had always said that it was so so good.
Didn’t we do good? Hazel had asked after that first heist so very long ago. So vibrant and exuberant and free. Can you believe it?
We’re doing such good work, Hazel said, smiling as she carried a crate full of food towards the truck on the way to the next town over. Look at all the people we can feed!
It’s for the greater good, Hazel said, frowning and shaking her head, staring at Peril with that disappointed look that made something twist and churn inside her. Try to remember that, okay? This is more than about you. It’s about them.
Was it good that this happened? Was it good that this was how she felt? Fractured and shattered, a broken picture frame on the ground, glass shards glinting and wood splintered. Her whole world was gone and it was good?
“… Roan,” she croaked, surprised by how steady her voice was, throat dry and scratchy. Her hands shook, and she curled them into fists and she looked up at him. “You should go.”
If this was good, then she didn’t want any part of it. If this was good, then Peril was going to make her own way.
“Why? What are you going to do?”
Being good didn’t protect her sister. Being good didn’t do anything except break and burn, kindling and flames and far too volatile.
But that was alright. Peril was done dancing to her sister’s tune. She was done forcing herself to be good, when good never brought her anything except pain and suffering, of watching her sister bend forwards and backwards all for the greater good.
“Nothing,” she said, standing, her legs unsteady like a newborn colt yet sure all the same. “Nothing at all.”
She was done being good, when all it did was take her sister away from her.
It was time to do something else for a change.
In the end, Peril was glass. Fragile and whole, beautiful and shimmering. Smudged a little bit, the edges worn, but she was whole.
With Hazel gone, she broke. Her edges sharp and jagged, cutting everyone around her and watching the blood run dry. In time, maybe her edges could have been worn smooth.
In time, perhaps Peril could have found something new to fill the hole. Not perfectly, never perfectly, but something else. Something that would fill her for a little while before reality crashed upon her and she was left scrambling to hold on as water slipped between her fingers.
Instead, Peril sharpened her edges to a shiny point, a knife’s blade with an artisan’s precision. Instead, Peril fashioned herself into her own weapon, deadly and smooth and all too bitter.
She was gone, too bad, too sad, and it was time to live up to her namesake.
She was gone, and woe is her, but she would make the world burn for what it did to her.
She was glass. Glinting and shimmering, deceptively pretty. But her shards were sharp and piercing, her words lashing and smile crooked and eyes a touch too cold.
She was glass, a funhouse mirror and a distorted reflection. A shadow that twisted and warped, all terrible fangs and pretty white roses.
After all, glass was only fragile until it broke.
It began, like all adventures, with the best of intentions. Foolhardy and reckless as their mother told them, irresponsible as their father said, but brilliant all the same.
It began with a sister, a friend, and a lover. An idea hatched in the schoolyard on a hot summer day, a bond and a pledge formed beneath the shadows of an oak tree. A promise to each other and the world.
It began when her sister sat down next to her and said, “Do you want to rob a bank?”
“What are you talking about?” Peril asked, not bothering to look up from her book even as her sister leaned heavily against her. Hazel had always been like that, the younger sister and so apt to get in her way. By now, Peril was used to her antics and barely blinked. She turned a page and shifted her book slightly to see past Hazel’s enormous head. The things she did for family.
“We should rob a bank.” Hazel tilted her head back, leaning her full weight against Peril’s arm and catching Peril’s eye. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“A bank,” Peril repeated dully, but she dutifully closed her book and set it aside, shifting to a more comfortable position with Hazel leaning against her shoulder instead. “Alright,” she said, ruffling Hazel’s feathers affectionately. “You have my attention. What exactly are you going on about now?”
“Well,” said Hazel, preening, “you know how the Arcanist is pretty much all about, ‘why not’ what with his whole signaling the Shade and all that? Well, Roan—you know Roan, right? That cute boy who lives across the way—he says that some crazy corrupt dragons were making this loan shark business, and that they were raising the interest so high that people ended up having to sell their entire lair to pay it back. And then I said, ‘That’s not right, they shouldn’t be taking people’s treasure like that.’ And Roan said, ‘There was nothing we can do about it,’ because he’s always such a downer. I swear that boy doesn’t do anything but complain. So I said, ‘Let’s do something about it, because if the Arcanist taught us nothing, it was that we should do it.’ Besides, it’s not a bad idea if a deity did it, you know? If anything, this is like getting the Arcanist’s blessing, or the closest thing to it.” Hazel paused, brows furrowing. “… Do you think the Plaguebringer gives out blessings? Maybe we should go with her ideals instead, but I think that involves a lot of killing off nature and stuff? And I like flowers, thank you very much. No offense, Plaguemomma,” Hazel added, glancing at the sky. “But anyways, that’s it! That’s my idea. So yeah or nah? You wanna rob a bank together?”
“Whoa, what.” Peril sat up so suddenly that Hazel fell over with a soft oomph, not that Hazel looked bothered. If anything, she looked thrilled. “You want to rob a bank because the Arcanist told you to?”
“No,” Hazel said, crossing her arms petulantly. “I want to rob a bank because it’s the right thing to do.” Hazel rolled her eyes, even as she took a second to brush dirt off her outfit. “I swear, nobody listens to anything I say.”
“I’m sorry,” Peril said wryly, shaking her head, “I was a bit caught up on the fact that you said the Arcanist would say it’s a good idea.”
“Well, he would,” Hazel muttered. “Are you in or not? ‘Cause Roan and I, we’re gonna do this. At least I assume we are. Roan kinda looked at me with his weird squinty eyes, but he didn’t say no, so I’m totally taking that as a yes. And you better say yes too ‘cause I swear, if you say no, then I’m going to—“
“Alright, stop. Stop,” Peril said, waving a hand. “Just stop talking for one second. You want to rob a bank.” Peril shot her a hard look. “Do you even know how you’re gonna do that?”
“Well,” Hazel said, and Peril was really starting to dread hearing her sister say that. “See, Roan actually knows Trist, who knows Han, who knows Fizz, and Fizz says that his brother in law actually works at the place, and was complaining about how lax security was and all that. So I figured we’d kinda just waltz in there and be like, ‘Bam! We’re robbing the place!’ and then we’re out. Easy peasy.”
Peril stared at her. “… There are so many things wrong with that, that I don’t even know where to start.” She sighed, shaking her head. Alright, well, say somehow that works, which it won’t”—she glared at her sister when she opened her mouth to argue—“No, listen. What are you going to do then? We’re not a bunch of kids anymore, we can’t just go to our parents and say we made a mistake. This is an actual criminal offense that has actual consequences.”
“I think you’re making this into a bigger deal than it is.”
“Am I? Because you are the one who wants to rob a bank.”
“Look, sis,” she said, crossing her arms. “You gotta look at the big picture. We save these dragons, give them back their money from the people who stole it, and we’re scott free. And for the rest, I dunno, maybe give it to charity? I’m sure we’d find something to do with it. Heck, who knows, maybe we could use it to fund a new group or something. A group to free the oppressed and all that. Or— Oh my god, and we could become our very own Robin Hood!”
“He’s a fictional character,” Peril said, but Hazel wasn’t even listening anymore.
“Wouldn’t that be so cool?” Hazel gushed. “We’d be like, the saviors of dragonkind! And everyone would love us, and there’d be stories and plays written about us. Do you think we’d get famous? Or—“
“This is such a terrible idea,” Peril said, staring in askance at the sky. “Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna do this no matter what I say?”
“Oh, ‘cause I totally am,” Hazel said, grinning and playfully shoving her. “C’mon! It’ll be fun.”
Peril was the older sister. The responsible one, the person always keeping her sister out of trouble. She’d done it her whole life, and would always do so. She knew the smart thing to do would be to whack Hazel over her head and drag her back home and vow never to talk about it again. But the way Hazel looked, eyes so bright, so determined. It was hard to say no in the face of her enthusiasm, harder even to think of keeping her from trying when she so desperately wanted to.
If anything, when it didn’t work out, Peril could say she told her so. Until then, the least she could do was make sure her little sister didn’t get killed.
“Alright,” Peril said with a sigh. “Alright, sure. I’m just there to keep you out of trouble, mind you.”
“Yes!” Hazel squealed. “I knew you’d agree! This is going to be so great! I’ll go tell Roan!”
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and despite herself, Peril found herself smiling at her sister’s antics. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “And if we die, I’m blaming you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” her sister said, waving her off. “You just wait and see! It’ll be great!”
Looking back, Peril still wasn’t sure how they had been able to pull it off. She’d gone over the day countless times in her memories, replaying it over and over, and still, she never could figure it out. A combination of luck and skill and Hazel’s optimism. A mishmash of pieces that shouldn’t have worked, and somehow did.
Perhaps the guards were particularly lax that day, barely blinking as three dragons rushed them with masks on and roaring. Perhaps something else was at work, an inside man who pulled some strings to make it easier. Perhaps Hazel did more than threaten the bank teller into letting them into the vault. Perhaps Roan did more when he smashed the bank’s security cameras.
Perhaps, somehow, they actually worked well as a team despite meeting only once the day before to go over the plan, the sun beating down on them as they bent over the spare bit of parchment, words hastily scrawled in Hazel’s chicken scratch, and Peril shaking her head because it would never work and who were they kidding.
It worked as perfectly as Hazel had envisioned, escaping with bags of treasure, Hazel giddily laughing and Peril unable to believe they’d actually gotten away with it.
It worked as Roan carted away the piles of goods with a list of names in hand, promising to give it to the dragons who’d lost the treasure in the first place
It worked as Hazel began receiving fan mail, dragons thanking her for what she’d done, sharing their heart-wrenching stories of losing everything they had just for a stupid loan from a shady bank. Of living on the streets and starving, begging for any bits of coin just to feed their hatchlings. Of how they were going to pay it forward, to share her kindness with others, how grateful they were that she showed up when she did..
It worked too well, the ball rolling and tumbling, and suddenly Peril found herself dragged on adventure after adventure, Hazel touting another story from another needy dragon about some shady dealings or corrupted officials or oppressed workers.
Suddenly Peril found they were the new owners of an entire building, filled to the brim with people all eager to help, and Roan standing beside her, directing another shipment of supplies that arrived to feed everyone. Meanwhile Hazel was off on another adventure with an entire band of volunteers to save yet another town from yet another evil overlord.
Roan glanced at her, and something must have shown on her face because he raised an eyebrow and asked, “You okay?”
“Fine,” she said, shaking her head, wondering for the hundredth time how they had come so far. “What did you need again?”
It was hard to believe that their small group had expanded from just the three of them, to five, to ten, to suddenly a few dozen, all because they believed in Hazel’s vision when Peril still wasn’t quite sure what her sister’s plan was.
Let’s free these people, Hazel said, and two days later would say, We can’t leave them behind! That’s mean! A week passed and she said, Let’s make a place for them! Then, We’re helping people, that’s all that matters!
But when do you plan to stop? Peril had implored, cornering her sister for the few scant minutes before she dashed off to who knows what new idea she had next. This has been going on for a while, don’t you think maybe you should stop?
But her sister just brushed her off, called her a downer and said, You know you can leave if you want. The door’s right there.
“We need help unpacking,” Roan was saying, pointing to the boxes in the corner. Food for the volunteers who lived here full time, ther crates already gone ahead to wherever Hazel was that day to help pass out to the needy. “You down?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling as if she had somehow been relegated to being her sister’s personal assistant. “I can do that.”
Roan peered at her, his brown eyes narrowed so much he was practically squinting. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You’ve looked a bit peaky since Hazel took off.“
“It’s fine,” she said, sighing. Then, “I thought I would be doing something else with my life.”
“Oh, same,” Roan said, grinning as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed all casual and cool. “It’s great, isn’t it? Doing something like this, making a difference. Thought I’d follow in my dad’s footsteps, open up a shop. ‘Cept now I’m here. Can’t really see myself going back after all this, ya know?”
Peril swallowed. It was just her then, wasn’t it? “I suppose,” she said, forcing her voice to be light and airy. “I’ll get started. Did you need anything else?”
“Nah.” Roan shook his head. “That’s it for now. Probably be more to do once Hazel comes back. She might bring some more folk who’ll want to join.”
“That’s good.”
Peril watched as Roan ambled off, whistling a jaunty tune, and she sighed again. It felt surreal, everything that had happened. Just a few months ago and things were normal and made sense. Now, it was like they were in their very own storybook, saving princesses and fighting bad guys.
Now it was like Peril stood out of her depth while her sister took to it like a duck to water, not even looking back, not even caring as she rushed headlong into adventure.
Was it ever going to end?
“Hey,” her sister greeted, grinning, having just returned from her adventure that day. “Crazy day, huh?”
Peril was sitting by her desk, a book spread open and the moon just visible in the window. She scooted her chair back a bit, turning to face Hazel as her sister shut the door behind her.
“Crazy,” Peril agreed, even though she did nothing more than inventory supplies. The most interesting thing that had happened was when she lost her pen and found it half an hour later dropped between some boxes. “How did it go?”
“Oh, it was great!” Hazel gushed as she dumped her things in a heap by the side of her bed. “We did so so much! We gave some supplies to the poorer areas in town, and after that we hit up one of those fancy mansions to steal some stuff. Nothing too big, obviously, but still! Every bit counts! And then on our way back, we ended up stopping by that cute cafe down the street for some cakes. I’ll bring you back some next time, promise. Their cakes are to die for! But enough about me, what about you?”
“Oh, nothing,” Peril said, casting around for something nicer to say than boring. “Quiet for sure.”
“Yeah?” Hazel tilted her head. “Ya know, Roan mentioned you were a bit off today? Like, I dunno, quiet? Or weird? He’s not the best at words. But, you know you can tell me if anything’s wrong, right? We’re sisters, we’re in this together.”
Peril pretended she didn’t notice the way Hazel’s voice softened when she mentioned Roan, until it wasn’t just Roan, but Roan. “I know,” Peril said, and she did. It was just Hazel got so enthusiastic, so chirpy that Peril wasn’t always sure if she could get through to her. “I think I’m just homesick.”
“Aww,” Hazel said, eyes softening. She flopped down onto Peril’s bed—apparently Peril’s bed was softer and comfier by far, even though Peril had offered to swap on more than one occasion—and knocking the pillow onto the ground. “Whoops,” she said, scooping to pick it up. “But, Peril, you know we’re doing good, right? Like, this is important. People would kill to be able to do what we’re doing, and we’re making such a big difference right now.”
“I know,” Peril repeated, glancing away. She’d had it repeated to her hundreds of times by now, heard it on the lips of everyone they met. And yet…
“It makes sense to be homesick, I’d be too,” Hazel continued, idly picking at the pillow in her hands. “But don’t you think it’s a little bit selfish? To be thinking about yourself when there are so many people suffering? There’s so much we could be doing to help instead of just wishing for something else. You know what, why don’t you help us tomorrow? There’s this place two towns over with this crazy corrupt official whose making everyone’s life horrible. Maybe being able to see that will help. You’ve been cooped up for a while. I didn’t mean to make it seem like you couldn’t come with, you must’ve felt so left behind. That’s completely on me. I’m sorry. But, you’ll see, it’s good.”
Good. Yes, of course they were doing good. Except—
“You don’t think the place is getting a bit… crowded?” Peril ventured. They kept getting more and more dragons looking for a better place to live, or something to believe in. But it was starting to be overwhelming, people crammed into little rooms sometimes five at a time, more if they could fit it. There weren’t even enough beds for everyone.
Thankfully Peril, Roan, and Hazel’s rooms were still their own. But did that make her selfish too? To be glad that their rooms weren’t overcrowded as well?
She knew what Hazel would think. She knew how Hazel would do, that disappointment, the shake of her head. I didn’t think you were selfish, Hazel would say, and Peril would wince because she wasn’t, she just wasn’t as giving as Hazel was. Did that make her selfish?
“It’s not crowded,” Hazel said, frowning. “Like, sure, there’s lots more people, but that’s normal. Of course it’d seem more crowded than when it was just us three. You’re just not used to it yet. You’ll see.”
“I guess,” Peril said, wondering why she felt so twisted inside anyways. Hazel was right, though. There were a lot who were out there that had it worse than them, and here they were, sitting on a pile of gold and giving it away. They were good, even if it wasn’t perfect. But nothing was perfect, was it? They were just doing the best they could with the things they had, and that was all that mattered.
So why then was her heart still beating such a rickety rhythm? Why did something inside her feel so horribly off?
“Peril.” And here Hazel sighed, hugging the pillow to her chest. “I love you, you know that, right? I’d never do anything to hurt you. But you have to remember that this is so much more than just us. It’s about the world. Come with us tomorrow. It’ll be better, I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”
“Alright,” Peril said. “Alright, that sounds like a good idea.” She had been cooped up for a while. Maybe it was time to see them in action, to remind herself of why they were doing this.
This was fine.
Hazel was right. The things they were doing were so wonderful, so extraordinary. Regular people couldn’t do this. Regular people couldn’t make this out of nothing. Who was she to be constantly questioning things? To be whining and sulking about how nothing was pitch perfect, to be so ungrateful for the chance she was given when they were doing so much for so many.
She was right, and Peril was glad to watch as everything grew and developed. To see Hazel so happy and proud of what they’d done. Time passed in a blur, and there was nothing they couldn’t accomplish. The world was their oyster, and everything was at their fingertips.
Hazel was right up until she wasn’t. Until she decided to take on someone too big and powerful, someone with too many resources when they had too little information. Until there were more guards than they anticipated, the vault not in the study like they were told and instead on the other side of the mansion.
Hazel was right until she decided that the best course of action was to reconvene on the beach, everyone splitting up and taking a portion of the loot. They can’t chase all of us, she said, with a cheeky wave and a too wide grin. C’mon, we haven’t lost yet and I don’t plan to.
Hazel was right until Peril stood alone on the beach, the wind whipping through her hair, and the others having long given up and left to wait for them back at base, shaking their heads and telling her she was worrying too much, that Hazel would be fine, just wait.
Hazel was right until the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the sky painted orange and purple and the moon poking its head out, and still she was nowhere to be seen. The air was cooler now, and Peril stood, listening to the waves crash against the shore, alone. Waiting.
Please, she prayed to someone, anyone. Please.
No one answered her except the distant cries of the gulls, the moon shining so brilliantly, so mockingly down at her in the dark, cold night.
Please.
She was alone, and no one was there to see her shatter.
Roan found her there the next day, the morning air cool and foggy. Sand crunched beneath his steps, slow, steady, and too loud in the oppressive morning silence. Peril barely stirred as she blinked blearily up at him from where she’d collapsed the night before.
“Hey,” he said, awkwardly, nervously. “You okay?”
Peril opened her mouth, swallowed, shook her head. She couldn’t say anything. Didn’t want to voice what was running through her head. To acknowledge it. If she did… her tenuous control would slip and she wouldn’t be able to stop. If she said it, she’d never stop crying.
It. As if that was all she was now. An it instead of a her and to never be there again. Just a footnote at the end of the chapter, just a blip in history. No longer Peril and Hazel, and Hazel and Peril. Just Peril, alone, and sobbing, and—
Peril swallowed, throat dry and blinking rapidly to hold back the tears.
Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.
“So uh,” Roan was saying, and Peril had almost forgotten he was there. “Wasn’t all bad, ya know? Got a lot of stuff last night, even though Hazel”—he coughed, maybe realizing she didn’t want to hear it—“well, anyways. It wasn’t in vain is what I’m saying. We did good.”
Good.
Good. The mantra Hazel had pounded into her head for the past few years, had said time and time again every time Peril wavered and faltered and questioned. They were so good, so righteous. Everything Peril had struggled against, everything she’d thought, Hazel had always said that it was so so good.
Didn’t we do good? Hazel had asked after that first heist so very long ago. So vibrant and exuberant and free. Can you believe it?
We’re doing such good work, Hazel said, smiling as she carried a crate full of food towards the truck on the way to the next town over. Look at all the people we can feed!
It’s for the greater good, Hazel said, frowning and shaking her head, staring at Peril with that disappointed look that made something twist and churn inside her. Try to remember that, okay? This is more than about you. It’s about them.
Was it good that this happened? Was it good that this was how she felt? Fractured and shattered, a broken picture frame on the ground, glass shards glinting and wood splintered. Her whole world was gone and it was good?
“… Roan,” she croaked, surprised by how steady her voice was, throat dry and scratchy. Her hands shook, and she curled them into fists and she looked up at him. “You should go.”
If this was good, then she didn’t want any part of it. If this was good, then Peril was going to make her own way.
“Why? What are you going to do?”
Being good didn’t protect her sister. Being good didn’t do anything except break and burn, kindling and flames and far too volatile.
But that was alright. Peril was done dancing to her sister’s tune. She was done forcing herself to be good, when good never brought her anything except pain and suffering, of watching her sister bend forwards and backwards all for the greater good.
“Nothing,” she said, standing, her legs unsteady like a newborn colt yet sure all the same. “Nothing at all.”
She was done being good, when all it did was take her sister away from her.
It was time to do something else for a change.
In the end, Peril was glass. Fragile and whole, beautiful and shimmering. Smudged a little bit, the edges worn, but she was whole.
With Hazel gone, she broke. Her edges sharp and jagged, cutting everyone around her and watching the blood run dry. In time, maybe her edges could have been worn smooth.
In time, perhaps Peril could have found something new to fill the hole. Not perfectly, never perfectly, but something else. Something that would fill her for a little while before reality crashed upon her and she was left scrambling to hold on as water slipped between her fingers.
Instead, Peril sharpened her edges to a shiny point, a knife’s blade with an artisan’s precision. Instead, Peril fashioned herself into her own weapon, deadly and smooth and all too bitter.
She was gone, too bad, too sad, and it was time to live up to her namesake.
She was gone, and woe is her, but she would make the world burn for what it did to her.
She was glass. Glinting and shimmering, deceptively pretty. But her shards were sharp and piercing, her words lashing and smile crooked and eyes a touch too cold.
She was glass, a funhouse mirror and a distorted reflection. A shadow that twisted and warped, all terrible fangs and pretty white roses.
After all, glass was only fragile until it broke.
Lore by Rosoidela!
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