Natakus

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He woke up surrounded by the faces of unfamiliar concerned dragons, some unfriendly, some pretending not to be. A Guardian with deep green scales placed her orange wing lightly yet firmly on his shoulder.

"Get off me," he snarled, using his left wing to knock hers away. He shot up off the soft platform and immediately smacked into a cold stone ceiling.

He fell to the floor and grimaced, staring into the eyes of the lesser dragons. Almost all of them were the soft green of the Wind flight, the spawn of the Tidelord's ancient enemy. The enemies of his Father.

There were some other flights scattered here and there too: twin Nocturnes peered over the heads of larger dragons with violet eyes. A Mirror with intense orange eyes - almost as bad - watched him curiously. A few Arcane dragons were here too, and was that red he spotted on a dappled Pearlcatcher?

What was this place?

“You’re on - or rather, under - the Windswept Plateau.” The voice came from a grinning Skydancer with feathers the colour of orchids and - was that... gembond on the ends of his feathers?! Mysteries of the Spiral Keep, what kind of clan was this? Taking in gembond-afflicted dragons and all kinds of flights?

“I know you probably have many questions,” the gembond dragon continued. “My name is-“

“Silence,” he hissed. This dragon was not worthy of speaking to him. He would only speak to one of his subjects, or perhaps another like him. The latter would probably be impossible to find here, but surely, with all these flights together, there had to be a Water flight representative he could get a reliable answer from. Who did that gembond think they were, speaking for all the other dragons in the room? Who did the other dragons think they were, letting themselves be spoken for by a certainly foolish and stupid dragon, a genetic mistake? They did not have any right to talk to him at all. He should have them killed. Yes, that would make him feel better, and show the onlookers he did not tolerate that kind of behavior. He pushed past the weak dragons and flew out of the cave, looking for the exit so he could get back home to the Sea of a Thousand Currents.

A female Spiral blew past him. Crinkled papers and parcels tied loosely together with twine threatened to fall out of the satchel tied just above her back leg. Her scales and wings were the rich blue of the sea, mixed with splashes of white that reminded him of crashing waves. A ceramic jar tied to her other side sloshed water. Finally, a dragon who would recognize his superiority and bow to him!

“Sorry, pardon me, pardon me, excuse me! Coming through! Lots of messages to deliver!” she shouted, clearing a path through the crowd of dragons like a knife. He was right on her tail, determined to talk to someone who understood.

“Letter for Dayspring!” she called out, and a letter from her satchel detached itself at just the right second and landed at the entrance to someone’s lair. The gembond Skydancer poked their head out and picked up the scroll with a smile.
“Package for Amethyne!” With a practiced air, she swished her hips to the right, loosening a large package in time for it to land in front of another dragon’s door. A giant Imperial with offwhite scales and crystalline wings sweeps the box into his lair with his tail.
“Kynigos, your friends from the Boneyard sent in something that reeks. I left it at the door, because I can’t have it stinking up everyone else’s packages.” A blue Mirror with dark red eyes grunted. “Hey, don’t blame the messenger. Last time I carried it with the others, the whole clan stank for days. Get your buddies to send nice-smelling things next time if you want them sent to your door.”

She was a little snarky, wasn’t she? Maybe not the best dragon to expect absolute devotion from.

The Spiral checked the scroll she clutched in her front paw and turned around, ready to toss a thick envelope to a lair somewhere behind her. “Letter for… oh.”

There was a dragon named O in the clan? It truly was a horrendous place to be.

Then he noticed she was staring at him, right into his eyes. Or more likely at his eyes. They were certainly unique, and a source of great pride, but she should know it’s impolite to stare, especially at someone like him. “Oh,” she said again, softly. Her disgusting big green eyes looked unblinkingly into his clear blue ones. What, did she think that was his name? Was she going to throw an envelope at him and zip away? Forget him, in this job that took her across Sornieth, seeing so many faces? It surprised him when he felt a pang of sadness, and then he quickly realized that any god would fear being forgotten. This simple Wind flight Spiral disguised as a water dragon is just one dragon in an infinite sea of them. Her opinion of him didn’t matter.

“What?” he barked, snapping her out of her daze.

She shook her head quickly. “It’s just… you’re new,” she finished lamely.

“I know you were staring at my eyes. I’m not blind, or stupid,” he hissed.

“Well, I’ve never seen a dragon with eyes like yours. Sorry, but I was curious. I’m done looking now. I’d say it was nice to meet you, but I’d be lying.” Her last words were laced with a venom similar to his own, and as she looped away, he noticed the ceramic jar attached to her waist again. An engraving of a fish pattern was barely visible under the scraps of fishing nets tying it to her side.

“Is that a spirit jug?” he exploded, unable to rein in his fury.

She looked back at him boredly. "Yes. It's a spirit jug. My spirit jug. I'm almost certain you're a water dragon who should definitely recognize an artifact from your own flight."

The sarcasm irked him, but he tried not to show it. "That was a rhetorical question. I meant, what are you doing with one?"

She froze and glared at him with a fury that mirrored his. "You mean that I look like a wind dragon, not a water dragon, so I shouldn't be allowed to have one."

He relaxed slightly. "Yes, exactly! Only water dragons are worthy enough to possess a spirit jug, definitely not wind dragons. Finally, something we agree on!"

"Well, consider me worthy, then. I might have green eyes and a little bit of control over wind, but other than that I don't feel any real connection to the Windsinger. I've always wanted to explore, but I just want to swim all the way down to the Spiral Keep. I'm a fast flyer, so I must be a decently fast swimmer, too! I'm a water dragon, no matter what my eyes might tell you."

He snorted. "I like plants. Does that make me a nature dragon? Of course not! You're no different. You can't choose your flight." The nerve of this dragon.

"I think I did." A ripple passed over the surface of the water in the jug. Was that her doing? No, of course not. She was probably only using the wind to move the water to trick him into believing her. Or he was probably so angry that he was unconsciously manipulating his element.

His power surged, and so did the spirit. A column of water burst out of the jug, racing to meet him, curving in a beautiful, perfect spiral around his hovering body. The end of the stream curled in on itself, forming the head of a fish. It continued to bloom into long fins and an elaborate tail, water rushing from the source jug infinitely. There was more water streaming around him than there had been in the dormant jug, an incredible, impossible feat of water magic. The fish swam through the air around him playfully, refracting shimmering light onto his golden scales. He knew that the other Spiral was watching the display just as much as his eyes, which no longer mimicked still pools of water. A full-on storm was raging. The blue of a perfect sea rippled, creating waves that floated around his eyes in spirals. They crested and crashed back into the blue, flowing so fast they turned to whitewater.

Finished, he sent the fish swimming backwards into its stream, dissolving it back into dormant water. It unspooled from his figure and crashed back into the jug on the Spiral's hip. When the last drop landed, the surface went completely still, and the waves of his eyes crashed soundlessly back into stillness.

"Oh Windsinger," the awed Spiral said breathlessly.

"Tidelord, actually," he said with a confident smirk.


"So, are you a water primal or something? We have a couple primals from other elements in our clan."

He chuckled. "I'm more than a water primal. I'm a god."

Hurricane looked at him curiously. "Mm, I don't think so."

"Fine," he huffed. "I'm a demigod. A direct descendant of the Tidelord's pure lineage."

"Really."

"Yes!" he shouted indignantly. "My mother and grandmother both have the power that I do, but to a greater magnitude. My great-grandmother and great-grandfather were blessed by the Tidelord himself, creating Fae with the power of the ocean in their souls. I never met my father, but he doesn't matter. The only thing he gave me was my breed."

Hurricane rolled her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to hide it. "Hey. I'm not joking. You saw what I did with the spirit jug. Not just any water dragon can do that!"

"So you have strong water magic. We used to have a wind dragon like that. He did a lot of things, but he never called himself a god."

"Where is he? I want to speak with him."

She fixed him with a glare. "He's dead. Thanks to his own ambition and cockiness, he was killed by a dragon with very little connection to magic."

If he was a dragon like that, he would have gulped. But he was no mere mortal. "He was an idiot, then."

"No, he was just unlucky. But don't let Toxinflare hear me talking about her like that," Hurricane whispered conspiratorily.

"Who?"

"Her." She pointed to a grey-striped Mirror with contrasting light green wings. "She killed Copperwing with her bare claws. Right. Under. This. Spot." Hurricane patted the ground in front of her for emphasis.