Sparkbug

“Hello? Hello down there! Are you a repairderg? Shine your light up, I think I’m right on top of the break you’re looking for… No, that flickering isn’t the break, it’s me! Why, yes, yes, I am a Sparkbug! Did you see any others— oh. I’m the first you’ve ever seen? Oh dear. No, my swarm was checking this area and I got separated, no one saw my flashdance. Yes, I do mean the flickering. I don’t have a light; I’ve got little reflective bits all over. It’s great for signaling when there is any light at all, we’ve got a whole bees-to-the-blossom thing we do whenever one of us finds something the others need to know about. And they needed to know— we could have fixed this before the tube-lamps dimmed all the way out, but, I guess it was already too dim when I found it. No one saw me. They must be days away now. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave all on my own. No… no, I’m not doing very well. We don’t, um, we don’t do well on our own.”

Sparkbug Veilspun don’t distinguish between work and play. They thrive on doing together— be it repair and maintenance, wildcraft, or celebration— absolutely any kind of hands-on collaborative activity. Their name comes from the way light blinks off the ultrareflective spots and dots along their skin patterns and streaming hair. From a distance, each Sparkbug appears to be a mini-murmuration of sparks within the macro-murmuration of the Sparkbug swarm. The same system of flashdance signals that keep a swarm coordinated while spread out seeking food in the Scrub also makes them brilliant collective learners. They have a special love for repurposing scraps and finding new ways to combine old things. Assign a new task to a swarm of Sparkbugs and you’ll see them streamline it down to the most efficient sequence of movements. It's truly a pleasure to watch them run a lab, clean a kitchen, or dance in the rain. But don't make the mistake of thinking they have no individuality. Sparkbugs may be any manner of chatterbox, comedian, philosopher, geek, or quiet lurker, they just all have the gift of being in the right place at the right time in relation to one another. The more, the merrier, as far any swarm is concerned… it’s the Sparkbug without a swarm who needs to be concerned.

“Oh, no, I haven’t had anything to drink in days. That’s very kind, yes, please, I’d love a little water, thank you so much. You know— if you’ve never seen a Sparkbug, you must never have had Sparkbug tea? There’s a thermal-line right behind you, just heat that water up and let me rub a couple of my petals into it…There! This will perk us both right up. And… after we’ve had our cup, maybe I could hold that light for you while you look at this mess? I’ve been here so long without being able to do anything about it, I’d love to help fix it.”

An isolated Sparkbug is in dire need of a protector-companion, at least until they can return to their swarm. They will seek to attach themselves to any goal-oriented dragon who seems friendly and is at least four times their own size. It’s a literal attachment; from the outside, a Sparkbug partner appears to be part pet, part jewelry. They go everywhere curled up prettily on their partner, never venturing farther than the shadow of their wings. Wearing a Sparkbug has become quite the status symbol; these tiny Veilspun are thought to have a real gift for spotting up-and-coming dragons who have what it takes to get things done, whatever their field. The truth is that Sparkbugs only feel safe with dragons who listen to them. A dragon going around wearing a Sparkbug has the advantage of a fulltime personal consultant. After all, the Sparkbug is now pouring everything it took to keep casually in touch with a huge crowd of their own kind into this one very different dragon. If there is a way to move more efficiently, use the resources at hand more creatively, and get better cooperation, a Sparkbug is sure to spot it. Plus, these insights are typically delivered over a shared cup of Sparkbug tea.

“Careful not to chew the petals! Just leave those for me, they’ll help me grow more. And here we go. Oh, that’s good. This is what I’ve been needing. You feel it, too? That sense of being… grounded. Gets you the focus to put your energy just where you want it. Opens you up for inspiration to strike! No, no jitters, and no crash. You’ll be all the way awake for twice as long and then sleep twice as deep for half as long. Boosts the immune system, too. Oh, thank you. No, really, thank you! We never drink alone— not our tea, anyway. We always put that very first moment of clarity into just being grateful for the company. Before you showed up, I was wondering if I would ever share a cup again. A biscuit? Lovely! But just break a bit off for me and you have it. For you it’s a morsel, for me it’s a meal! Now let’s get to work— and remember, anything delicate you need done, I’ve got just the hands for it.”

A quaint custom, it seems, the ritual of two Sparkbugs each taking a fresh petal from their branches and crushing them together into hot water to be shared around, or a single Sparkbug crushing two of their own petals for tea with a dragon of another kind. They can do this a few times a day with how quickly the petals regrow, as long as they eat the petals afterwards. Indeed, Sparkbugs have been seen giving their hatchlings, their elders, and the sick among the swarm raw petals straight from their branches. It’s sweet, really, how seriously those dragons who have partnered with Sparkbugs seem to treat these short little tea ceremonies. Many partnered dragons get into making teatime even more special with beautiful cups and tasty treats, and they all carry battery-powered or enchanted kettles. Few things are more adorable than seeing a mighty Ridgeback reverently sharing a dainty demitasse with “their” Sparkbug. That said, it is a bit odd how those dragons who have lost the longterm companionship of a Sparkbug seem most bitter about the loss of teatime. No one pays much attention to those dragons, though. Just as being adopted by a Sparkbug is seen as a sign of coming success, to be deserted by one is an omen of doom. A Sparkbug enjoying a deep bond of mutual respect will not leave their partner even to rejoin a swarm. Only dragons that become cruel and careless will lose the good fortune a Sparkbug can bring, along with the Sparkbug themselves. It must be terribly lonely to have had such loyal support and driven it away. That must be why such dragons show all the signs of depression— dull and foggy thinking, constant exhaustion, even getting sick more often.

“We’ve done it! The lamps are back on! Hee-hee— yes, this is my happy flashdance. Let’s wait a few minutes to make sure the fix holds. How about some more tea?”

No Sparkbug ever stops longing for the company of their own kind. Truly devoted partners will make great sacrifices in order to get their companion a chance to spend time with other Sparkbugs. These are the very dragons most likely to end up with two or three or even more Sparkbugs. They have the best tea parties. Sparkbugs who share their protector-companion with even one other Sparkbug are noticeably happier, healthier and more confident, and the larger dragon to whom they are collectively devoted is assured of even greater success in their endeavors and radiant good health.

“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Cheers!”