Desastre

Desastre wishes he could spend more time with the hatchlings he raises. Most of them migrate away as soon as they reach the age of travel. It’s difficult to keep contact with any, so he misses the hatchlings he becomes friends with—often being the hatchlings’ first. Desastre has moments of reminiscence, employing Antaxis’ company to wait out the thoughts of their safeties and well-beings in a quiet, comfortable spot of their personal lair.

Desastre makes sure to tell stories of past hatchlings to his newest charges, one thing he’s found to keep their memory alive and vibrant while keeping newer generations entertained.

Desastre is from a line of Ice dragons who have a deep capacity for magic. Unfortunately, during an awful snowstorm, he was thrown off his mother’s back at the floes’ edge. He couldn’t fly. Being born on the move, he had no idea where home was. It felt hopeless being separated from his family, and he didn’t know magic.

He spent the rest of his adolescent life traveling forward, eventually to the edge of Plague. He couldn’t stay in Ice any longer. No one was looking for him.

He knew the heat of Plague, but believed he could find some solace from the constant reminder of his lostness if he were in sun instead of snow. His stubbornness led him to pass out one day in a disoriented walk, and it was a wonder he was found at all.

They do eventually become partners. When he was first rescued from that desert, Desastre thought he would leave once he was healed. Something would make him mentally postpone leaving later and later. The warmth, the food, the shelter, and… eventually he admits to himself, Antaxis. Antaxis spent more time listening to him than anyone else Desastre ever met. It was nice. It was comforting, and it gave him, for the first time in a very long time, hope that he would be happy.

It helped that Antaxis didn’t really fly around everywhere. Desastre had trouble befriending fly-happy dragons, who hardly had any time for the ground. So when one day Viudremesh left to deliver a message to a distant friend, Antaxis and Desastre spent the weeks together, slowly tending the den (which didn’t need much tending, really).

It helped build Desastre’s strength to clean and restore the ancient lair, and it helped build the bond between the two on the shared experience of healing and hope. Antaxis was excited to have someone to talk to about lazing and the fuzzy feeling the world would give him sometimes. Desastre was waiting for the same.

He wears an old softened banner to keep his wings from touching the cool, dry winds of the forest. This spot in Plague is colder than most, bringing about the perpetual autumnal colors of the local trees. The forest is the hardiest for miles, evolved from ancient survivors of the encroaching Contagion.

But that’s neither here nor there. As he walks, his horns scrape branches supporting scores of red and orange leaves. He uses his ice pick to scale the barren rock faces along his journey, and uses his staff to assist himself onto his hind legs, signal others in the distance, or simply take an extended breath above the tree line.

He carries food and water along with him on his tail—just enough to satisfy with room for dinner.

Desastre can cuddle for days on end if he wanted. Meanwhile, Antaxis needs regular breaks every few hours or so for a snack. His voracious Mirror metabolism won’t stop for literally even doing nothing.

So, Desastre prepares all of Antaxis’ favorite snacks in advance. Every time, he collects food to sustain his Mirror through a long day of planned cuddles.

In their small, personal lair of dusty stone (no matter how much they sweep), strewn quilts of old banners, and crudely handmade quilts, they can be found holding gently onto one another.

Antaxis preens and softly describes what he loves about Desastre’s wings when Desastre doesn’t have the energy to preen them himself. And when Antaxis wishes he had a body big enough to hold an Imperial proper, Desastre assures him that anything his Mirror could give is more than enough for him to feel loved.

Whenever Desastre heartaches over his unusable wings, Antaxis comforts him.




As far as the pain goes, he thinks about what he could’ve had with the wings his instincts long for. But, if his home had been in the sky, he would have never have found Antaxis on the ground.

He isn’t so heartbroken after knowing what he’s gained.