Roane

(The first half of this was written by Trippfaerie. Everything not in italics was written by me.)

Meet Roane, a beautiful mirror. He was born on the wrong side of the tracks. Scrapping by. Doing things he wasn't proud of just trying to survive. He knew his life was measured in years and not centuries like most dragons. Until the day he met her...

Wisp. His savior, and she doesn't even know. She came to his shady side of town to try to save the little ones. She gave them homes and a purpose. Blankets and food went to the ones she couldn't take with her. And he watched over her from a distance. Never knowing such kindness from those more elite than him, he was touched by something and given a new meaning on life. He vowed that he would change everything he was to be the kind of dragon Wisp deserved. First came the shimmer, then the tiger genes. He was starting to save up for his skydancer scroll, the final piece in his plan to win his love over, when something truly terrible happened...

Guardian. Born everything Roane was not. The injured war veteran came into Wisps life and swept her of her feet. She is head over claws for this dragon and never even knew all the work that Roan put into himself to be that guy.

Roane is lost, heartbroken, and any other adjective of the most depressed. As leader of my clan it is up to me to see to the welfare of my children and I know Roane cannot be happy as long as Guardian and Wisp are happy.

The following story occurs slightly after Roane wandered from his clan to find guidance.

If you wander into the lands that most consider inhospitable, the lightning lashed desert of the Shifting Expanse, without adequate preparation, don’t expect to survive for long. Between the raging storms, the blinding haboobs, and the intense temperature differentials from night to day, things get disorienting and dangerous fast, even if you manage to find and follow a rare stream.

Roane didn’t care. Lost to sorrow, he desperately sought a sign, a message that his life was worth more than what it seemed. He’d heard of the dragons who had come to the desert, seeking wisdom, visions, or, if all else failed, the electric temptations of the underground cities. If he determined himself to be worth nothing, he would carve himself a niche in the glowing caves. The Stormcatcher’s followers were always looking for more workers for their projects. Work, at least, would let him forget the pain, give him purpose, even if it was false purpose.

But before all hope was lost, he’d give it one more shot. He hiked deep into the desert, running at first until he tired of finding spines from the indigenous plant life were working their way between his scales due to haste. Slower, he moved onward. The sky was clear this far out, though storms threatened on the southern horizon. He could smell rain, and realized just how parched he was. Taking a sip from his waterskin, he sat down on a rock as far away from the closest jumping cactus as he could. The water tasted flat, uninteresting. Roane could remember a time when every sip of water carried the promise of flavor, when every food he ate was awe inspiring, every color brilliant. But that had been before…

Now, there was little left of inspiration. Sorrow welled up, threatening to overtake him. Wisp. She’d been everything, given him hope. He’d shed his identity for her, transformed himself. Now, now he wondered if he had any identity left at all. The air was dipping in temperature as the night came on, but Roane’s blanket sat with his pack, forgotten.

For a long while, he sat there, still, waiting. Soon, the stars would come out. Perhaps then, he’d know. As the first glimmering lights began to show, he willingly gave himself over to the feeling of sorrow. He examined it, turned it this way and that from the inside, feeling it, feeding it, letting it overtake him. Soon, the brilliant desert starscape was a blurred glow in vision clouded by tears.

“Why?! Why couldn’t you have loved me? I would have been everything you wanted! I would!”

The only reply was the soft scratching of a rodent somewhere nearby. He waited, tears streaming down his muzzle, hoping for some shred of enlightenment. There had to be something, some meaning, some hope! But as the weather cooled and the night stretched on, there was still nothing.

The sudden crash of thunder, the smell of rain on soil and sand, and the feel of moisture on scales startled the mirror. He’d been so engrossed in his feelings that he hadn’t noticed the storm gathering, and now it was upon him! Hastily grabbing his pack, he began to race through the desert, seeking cover. There were caves, he knew there were. But he couldn’t find them. What he was finding in abundance were more spikey plants, and he couldn’t seem to avoid their prickly painful attacks. Another flash of lightning and peal of thunder sent him into a panicked state.

Even running at full tilt, he was shivering, the night air and the rainwater sapping his body of energy and warmth. He had to find shelter or he’d not survive the storm. Even if he did, a small voice in the back of his mind reasoned, he was hopelessly lost now. He’d never find his way back out of the Expanse.

Perhaps it was desperate luck, perhaps the gods were being kind, but the next flash of light showed a rocky outcropping nearby! He raced for it, half limping now from embedded thorns and spikes. As soon as he reached it, he began searching frantically for the doorway. He’d nearly given up. Perhaps this was just a large rock and there was no door at all, no dwelling entrance or even rock house. He fell inside. It wasn’t an easy fall, either, the first several bodylengths were steeply sloped. He only stopped his descent by crashing into a curve in the wall. He thought he saw light before exhaustion overtook him and the chill was too much.

***

“Is he going to be alright, Mama Ria?”

“Hush, child, of course he will. Though what he was doing out in that storm…”

***

At first, Roane thought he was dead. He was in some afterlife, that had to be it. He remembered pain, and wet, and cold, and now there were none of those things. Until he moved. Then the pain was back.

“Aagh!” Four eyes shot open and he looked around, trying to figure out where he was and why it felt like his body was being lightly electrified.

“Mama Ria!” a voice called out. “He’s awaaaaake!”

“Who are you?! Where am I? What’ve you done?”

The voice from before promptly became attached to a young guardian leaning down from an overhang. The light was behind her, but she was most definitely a guardian.

“You shouldn’t move around so much or the bandages’ll come off. Then we’ll have to redo the whole poultice.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in.

“Bandages? Poultice?”

“Yeah. You fell into the back entryway. Made a really big noise what with all the crying and crashing.”

Embarrassment crept up the back of his neck.

“Not to mention the fact that you looked like you tried to hug all the cacti in the Expanse.”

More embarrassment. He’d been at his utter worst and someone had seen him.

“But don’t worry! Mama Ria, er, Fulguria -- she’s the lair leader-- she and my mom and dad and the Chronicler and Refract and Sapphira and a buncha the others, we got you in here and numbed you up and took out all the spikes!” The young female seemed quite happy about this, but the revelation that not one but multiple dragons had seen him make him squirm.

“Where am-”

“You best not have woken him up just so you could talk to him!” The new voice was even higher than the young one’s, and no wonder, for it belonged to a very quick moving fae female. She flew in, a flash of bright blue and orange, and perched nearby, digging through a box on a table he’d failed to notice.

“I, uh…” He looked at the young female for any help understanding what was going on.

“That’s Fulguria! I told you she helped you!”

“That’s right, but then a lot of us did. Now sit still, I’m going to tend to your bandages.” She moved quickly, skillfully, and with a bit of magical assistance with some of the wrappings. He found himself staring when he could keep an eye on the blur. She didn’t look like much of a Lair leader. Tiny, oddly colored.

“You took a very bad fall. Not to mention the other injuries. Next time you journey in the desert, be sure to take a map and steer clear of the plants.” He cringed, waiting for more, but there was none. She just went about her business, mostly talking to the guardian. He lost track of the conversation, for most of it involved names of dragons he’d never met and business and jargon. Finally, the tiny fae left, gone as quickly as she’d arrived with a final bit of advice to drink a lot of warm fluids and sleep more.

He sunk back into the cushions he was resting on. That had been utterly exhausting. And now he was thinking again, his mind threatening to veer back to familiar territory.

“You sure don’t seem happy.” Crud, that guardian was still there.

“Well, there might be a reason for that. But you’re too young to understand, so just drop it.”

There was the sound of scales on rock as she shifted positions up on the ledge.

“I understand quite a lot, actually. You’d be surprised.”

“Still. I was told to rest.”

“Well, it seems to me that you’d rest a lot easier if you talked about it.”

“Look, kid, I fell in a bunch of plants and then down a hole. Why would I be happy?”

“That’s silly. I’d be really happy if this all happened to me.”

That was boggling enough to make him actually stare up at where she should be for a moment.

“...What?”

“Well, you are in the best lair ever. This is the Vision Clan.”

“I don’t follow.” Vision. Could this all be a vision? Could he be dreaming? No, this was too odd to be a dream. And too painful.

“I mean most clans wouldn’t find a wounded foreign dragon and take him in. I mean, yeah, they might patch you up, but you’d have to leave after that. You don’t, here.”

“I?”

“We welcome strangers here. Especially those who need help.”

“I don’t need your help! And besides, what if I was dangerous?”

“You aren’t dangerous. You got beaten up by plants. And not even the kind that move on their own.”

This time he was too annoyed to be embarrassed.

“Look,” she went on, oblivious to the scathing looks he was sending up, “you say you don’t need help. But the evidence says differently. I know you don’t trust us. You have no real reason to. But you can talk to me. I won’t tell anyone your story. I promise.”

The promise of a young female. How much could that possibly be worth. And yet… she seemed earnest. He didn’t know why, exactly, but he found himself wanting to tell her what happened. If this was a con, it was devious. But what if it wasn’t? What if this was his one last chance?

“It started years ago, when I met the love of my life. Only she didn’t know…” He went on, detailing his efforts to improve, his love, his joy in being near Wisp, his desperate despair when she pledged her love to another. Through it all, the girl was silent but for an occasional encouraging word. Finally, his story closed. “And I woke up here…”

“Wow. I’m sorry. It sounds like you’ve been through a lot.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. Sounds like you would have changed everything to be what she wanted.”

The words were an echo of his thoughts the night before. He winced.

“Maybe I would have, is that so wrong?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, it is wrong. You would have been whatever she wanted of you. And she probably would have loved it if this other dragon hadn’t come around.”

“I fail to see where this is a problem.”

“She wouldn’t have loved you for who you are. She’d only have loved the play. The act. Look, I don’t know you. I don’t think you really know yourself. But stay here and we’ll help you figure out who you are.” She hopped down then, landing heavily and shaking herself all over. Seen in the light, she wasn’t at all what he’d expected.

Her light, cream scales were striped. Bright blue wings and bluegreen scales on her neck that vanished beneath her tabard made her look almost comedic. She almost looked inverted!

“Um.”

“Don’t worry, I get stared at a lot. But it’s okay, I’m used to it. Anyway. I meant what I said about staying. And you can leave, too, if you want. Whenever you want. But you really should get some rest.”

She was heading to the doorway when his thoughts caught up with him.

“What’s your name, anyway?”

“I’m Joy.”



Update:

Over time, Joy and Roane became friends. The mirror found himself welcomed into the Vision Lair and his sorrow and anger slowly gave way to purpose. Though he was not adept at lens or glasscraft, he could help with other work in the labs and lair and found he was incredibly good at guarding the shipments that were taken to delivery. His experience on the streets and sharp reflexes helped avert disaster more than once.

Joy has been a constant source of kindness and happiness. As she grew, she blossomed from awkward child to competent, gentle adult. Still, there is a sense of unfulfilled destiny about her, as though she has yet to settle on a path in her blooming adult years. Roane often finds himself wishing he could help her. His friendship with her is the truest one he's ever known. He can't let her down. It seems Roane has finally become a dragon he can be proud of. Unfortunately, he's realized that the difficult part is staying true when the old urges to be just what a friend needs are rising up.