Invy

Invy could have bet her left wing that someone was watching her as she stood on the border of the Churnscar Wharf and the Magma Sanctum waiting for Bale, who was unfathomably late, to arrive. Her legs already ached from sitting for so long, but she was afraid to move. Dragons from all walks of life tramped down the wetted sand before her as they joined the wiggly amoeba of dragons visiting the Post. The large wooden namesake post stood far over her head, and she could hear the calls of the waterbirds native to the Sea of a Thousand Currents. Fresh air, moist and poignant with the smells from the food vendors, ushered the dragons closer. Noon sun reigned over the beach, beating down the brows of every dragon unfortunate enough to be out of the shade. The air around Invy crackled and snapped from the jets of flame coming from her eyes. Once again, she reminded herself to be calm, and the flames retreated somewhat. That didn't stop the sand from melting underneath her claws, however.

After what felt like hours, she noticed the faded pink and bright gold shroud Balestrieri favored shifting between the many dragons crowding into the post. He saw her watching and waved, coming closer.

“The next time you decide to be this late, save me the trouble of coming with you.”

“C'mon, you know you would've missed me.”

“Like I would've missed getting my hairs plucked out one by one, or the in between of my toes scratched down with sandpaper. What was the point of coming here if you just wanted to waste my time?”

“It's a certain crotchety someone's hatchday today, and I've gotta get her a nice gift before she bites my head off and eats it for hatchday dinner.”

“Hatchdays.” Invy cut the word off in her mouth, stating, “I don't need you to celebrate my existence. The fact that I'm still existing is celebration enough.”

“That's why we celebrate it. Humor me and come along like a good little tyke.” Bale simpered at her, miming holding her hand.

She kindly suggested where he could put his humor, and he laughed in response. “Now I want to follow you even less.”

But follow him she did, and into the Post they went. Dragons of all shapes and sizes crowded around each other, missing, brushing, and bumping each other as clamor tried to settle into peace. Shouts echoed about durable armor, quality emu fiber, and even unopened chests, full of riches and wonder and absolute junk. Well, they wouldn't shout the junk part, but Invy knew what was really in those chests.

Bale led carefully through the throng of dragons, stepping confidently and keeping his wings tightly folded. Invy followed suit more carefully, having rarely visited such a crowded place herself. She desperately wanted to inspect the chest-sellers wares closely, but she didn't want to lose Bale in the crowd. More than one Ridgeback forged paths through the dragon-made river, their spines quivering as the stallowners kept close watch on them.

Invy couldn't help but stare at the chest seller. He wore a bandanna over his purple-red feathers, his eyes glinting a bright blue. He called out again, attracting young and inexperienced dragons. The dissonant and murky-sounding Coatl accent barely tinged his voice, and she wondered how many times he must have advertised for his accent to disappear so completely. He beckoned dragons closer to his chests, pointing out rusted and gilded chests alike, gesturing to come try your luck and see what you'll get.

A Pearlcatcher bumped into her, muttering an apology as she went past. She looked, but Bale had vanished into the crowd, belonging so naturally to the mass of dragonflesh. They'd find each other here or back at home, she supposed. A silver garland caught her attention as it swayed in the wind.

“Welcome! Take your time looking.” The Tundra behind the stall had an honest smile, and Invy felt herself being drawn closer to the bowls of brightly colored petals. The fragrant flowers seemed to burst out with an impressive amount of variety and freshness. She could still see some morning dew on them, and the water below the stems nearly tipped out of the bowl when she looked. She rarely left the clan's grounds anymore, too incensed at the many liars and thieves in places just like this. Everyone was expected to keep to their own, and many left the markets unscathed, but some fell for cheap tricks or were stolen from. The thought of resellers who bought mass-produced items and tried to hawk them as quality infuriated her.

But as she stroked the soft petals and felt the delicate magic laced into every stem, she knew this seller was no cheat and even had a love for her occupation.

“Be careful. You're getting too close to that garland.” Invy immediately ducked her head out from under the stall canopy and damped her flames down as she saw one of the beautiful garlands was beginning to smoke.

“I was being careless, allow me to buy the garland as recompense; I doubt anyone would buy it singed.” She apologized to the florist, keeping her head well away from the stall.

The Tundra frowned, saying, “I'll let you buy it, but only because the flowers like you.” She smiled quickly before continuing, “And you like them, yes?”

The garland was silver, her favorite color. Invy felt a spurt of flame rush from her eyes out of embarrassment as she replied, “I do.”

After the transaction was done, she turned to the Fae who had warned her, intending to thank him. “Invy. What are you doing here.” Ayden's crests were rigid, all four as straight as sticks. “You never leave the base; I didn't expect to see you.”

All at once, the good mood brought about by the florist and her well-kept stall dissipated. She snapped, “What does it matter to you if I stay or go? You have no obligation to keep track of me like I'm one of your hatchlings.”

Ayden's inner crests became lopsided, and the outer crests dropped halfway. “Well, if you had said you were coming with us, we could have gone together.”

“And why would we need to go together? We have no relationship to speak of, and I don't think you want to be around me at all.”

His outer crests flared straight. “Because—“ He fell silent, his claws digging into his hands. “It was nice to see you. I have to get going now.”

Invy's eyes flamed as she said, “Isn't that true? You don't like me. You can say it right here; I don't mind. I. Don't. Like. You.” He turned around, swiftly disappearing into the swarm of smaller dragons flying above the Post.

“Coward!” She shouted at his back. The Tundra behind the stall was staring at her concernedly, but Invy stomped off without a backward glance.

She walked blindly, turning corners she didn't know and taking alleys without any hesitation. When she found herself in a deserted street, she said loudly, “You can come out now.”

When the presence that had followed her since she had flown to the Post didn't make itself known, her anger flared, and she roared, “Come out!”

The air flinched, becoming strangely shimmery. Finally, a peach-colored claw removed the cloak, and Sunfire folded it over his back.

“What did you want with me?” Invy's patience was thin, especially with him.

Sunfire stiffened, his snout tipping up and his ears flicking as he said, “I don't know what you're-”

“Stop. Lying.”

“I'm sorry, do-”

“Lying.”

Sunfire snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. Finally, he removed a small bag from his shoulder and tossed it toward her. “Happy hatchday.”

Invy peered into the bag. It was a tail bow, the same warm pink color as the dragon who gave it to her. “...thanks. Next time, save yourself the trouble.”

Sunfire frowned, his tail swishing. “What do you mean 'trouble'? It's your hatchday, you should be receiving many presents. I always expects presents on mine. Expect.” He coughed into his neck before smoothing his mane.

“Not many dragons choose to celebrate my hatchday.” Invy picked up the bag, slinging it over her own shoulder.

“Oh. Well.” He shifted his feet. “I assumed you would be surrounded by well-wishers. I'm sorry that there are not more. Such a wonderful dragon as you deserves it.”

She scoffed, “How sweet.”

“I know.” He misunderstood.

And they were silent.

The two stood in the alley, waiting for something to happen, as if somethings happen without outside influence. Somewhere, the birds screeched, fighting over scraps from the food booths, and dragons yelled intelligibly, faithfully advertising their wares. The moist air made their scales itch. The sand was not as packed down in this street, and the early morning rain had left it hardened like clay while the sun threatened it back into fluffy grit.

“I have somewhere to be. I'll see you around.” Sunfire broke the silence first.

“Don't count on it.” Invy watched as he wandered out of view, his tail swaying as he walked.

“Surprise! Did you like it?” Balestrieri came out of nowhere, swinging a leather satchel from his tail.

Invy started, “Like what?”

“The day was your gift; you really want more?” He tisked his tongue, pulling a grilled fish out of his bag.

“You actually took the time to get me something? The whole day, and you came up with grilled fish?”

“No, the fish is for me.” He stuck the fish in his mouth, eyes closed in rapturous delight. “But this,” He garbled, pulling out a piece of amber with a fogflower trapped inside, “Is for you.”

---