Moving On
For the most part, Ayla helped gather and store food in the larder. But when their small medicinal herb garden started to fail, she stepped in. Turns out she had learned something from her mother's herbology lessons after all.
It wasn't long until she was holding classes of her own to instruct the earth dragons how to prevent similar die-offs. Turns out, their herbologist had recently gone to Nature to collect more seeds for their plot. Unfortunately, they left behind no one fully capable of troubleshooting crop die-offs.
This display of skill earned Ayla a spot in the clan. She felt almost at home, like she belonged, for the first time since she'd left home. At least, until the resident gardener returned.
"What in Gladekeeper's name happened to my garden!" The irate nature tundra demanded.
Though she was still young, Ayla was physically much larger than the tundra... but she somehow managed to feel so much smaller as she approached. "I'm sorry, I did my best."
The tundra fumed, giving her a baleful once over. "And who left you in charge? Where is Gar? He should know better than to leave my precious medicines in the hands of
younglings," he spat.
Ayla's hackles rose a bit at that. "I beg your pardon?" she still managed to remain civil, as much as she wanted to yell right back.
"What did you even do? These plants are hardy enough to survive in a desert! Did you
burn them?" He had just noticed a small patch of charred ground near the garden where Ayla did in fact build a small fire to burn the infected plants. She opened her mouth to defend her actions, but he just raged on. His outrage-fueled tirade continued until he had to take a break to catch his breath.
Ayla remained silent through all of his accusatoty ranting, but a fire had been building in her belly. Teeth clenched the imperial rose up, until she towered above him. No longer the cowering youngling he had been berating, she finally spoke.
Her voice was quiet, but it quivered with suppressed frustration. "Pherhaps I should have let them all rot, then."
With that, she turned and bounded into the air as soon as she had enough room to open her wings. The tundra stared at her departing form, stunned.
Ayla flew to the small hollow she had been given for the duration of her stay. She paced, fumed, snarled, screamed. Stones whipped up and shattered against the walls in the wake of a sudden magical whirlwind.
It was nearly nightfall by the time anyone felt safe looking in on her. She had long since burnt out her anger. If nothing else, it was a bit of a relief to finally have a reason to vent her building frustration and anxiety.
Her continued indecision over what to do had weighed more heavily on her spirit than she'd previously assumed.
The soft scuff of a snapper's claw at the entrance to her temporary dwelling roused Ayla from an exhausted half-doze. She turned to see one of the clan's healers approaching. She had a soft, ever-present smile and peaceful demeanor that calmed even the most tentative hatchlings. If they'd sent her, it meant they must really have been afraid during the Ayla's momentary lapse of control.
"Hello, Frances," she sighed. "I'm sorry for the outburst." She was, but not for the reasons one might think.
"Dearest," the snapper chided gently. "You are not the one who should be apologizing."
Ayla lifted her head from the carpeted floor where it had been resting, peering at Frances.
"May I come in?" Frances asked, and Ayla nodded. She sat up a bit further, and the snapper settled herself down comfortably. "After you left, Roderick, that's the gardener, went to the council to complain." A mischevous smile lit her eyes as she related the story. "He was... a bit upset to learn what had almost befallen his precious herbs. Oh, you should have heard the names he called Gar!" She chucked, then paused to peer at Ayla speculatively. "Or maybe it's better that you didn't. Some of them were rather creative, but somewhat crass. Oh, Gar was his apprentice, by the way. But he's been gone to Earthshaker some three months."
Ayla smiled a bit at the meandering path Frances's tales often took, but they were always worth it in the end.
"Anyway," the snapper continued. "By the end of it, the council were about ready to send him off to talk to Gar himself. But they decided he might as well know the truth before making a further fool of himself. You
really should have seen the colors he turned when they were finished explaining how you'd stepped in and saved the crop."
"I can imagine," Ayla said, her smile growing a bit wicked. It was fair. She had been good. She hadn't blown up the tundra
or his garden. "So," she added hesitantly. "They're not upset about my..." Tantrum? "Outburst?"
Frances rested a claw on her arm. "Oh dearest, no. Though I do hope you let us know the next time you plan on venting a little frustration." She gave the imperial a sly grin. "It might be interesting to watch, if nothing else."
That earned a snort of laughter, and Ayla shoved her lightly. "Oh stop, you."
The two stayed up long into the night, laughing and talking about everything and nothing.
In the morning, Ayla found herself back at the garden. She hadn't planned on returning, but her feet seemed to have a mind of their own. It was busier than she had seen it any other time, aside from the first few days she'd tended to it. But this was not the frenzied sorting and plucking of diseased plants from healthy, or the urgent delegation of duties to wild-eyed apprentices. This was an orderly bustling, cataloging and bolstering the surviving crop, preparing plots for the new seeds that Roderick had brought back.
Several dragons paused to smile and wave when they saw her, before returing to their duties. She waved back, recognizing several she had personally instructed in the last few weeks, as well as a few who had already been apprenticed to Roderick.
Of that dragon, there was no sign. Which was probably for the best.
Ayla left them to their business, feeling comforted that things were well in hand without her overseeing the operation. She probably wouldn't be tending to any gardens for a while.
Life went on, and now that she had nothing to keep her occupied in the clan, Ayla felt a little out of place. More and more, she missed her family and friends back home. But she couldn't go back. Not yet.
One night, a few months after her caravan's departure, a new group came through. By this time, Ayla had begun to accept that she wasn't going to get into Oakrest, at least for a while. And news had reached her that some of the dragons from that clan had moved out before the epidemic had spread. Rumor had it, they were now living with a Nature clan called
Wild Orchard. It was possible that they had information regarding the other dragons of their old clan. With luck, this new caravan would be headed in that direction.
Unfortunately, the were headed south, rather than east.
Ayla sighed, curling her tail around herself. Maybe the next one. But once she had made up her mind to find the Wild Orchard clan, she grew more anxious by the day.
The group left, and Ayla was among the party sent to see them off. She found herself seated near a young skydancer who had been traveling with them.
"Aren't you leaving with your caravan?" she asked, eying curiously.
The skydancer smiled. "Ah, no," he said. "They're off to the Wyrmwound. I grew up in Cairnstone Rest; I've seen enough death and undeath in my day to last me a while. More than enough to fill my songs. A little life is what I could use, now." He turned to her, brown eyes contemplative. "You look as though you have a story or two."
A rueful smile crossed Ayla's face. "You gould say that," she murmured.
He nodded, then took out an ornate harp and began idly plucking at the strings. "My name is Sparrow, by the way."
The caravan moved off.
Sparrow's nimble claws picked out a melody Ayla remembered hearing float across the caravan's campfires a few nights ago. She also remembered hearing a voice singing, but couldn't make out the whole tune or any of the words at the tim.
"That was you?" she asked, then immediately felt a little silly. Of course it had been him.
He didn't break stride, only nodding and smiling a little. "It's just a song from the clan I grew up in. More of that death stuff." He played a little longer, watching the departing forms of the dragons he'd been traveling with. "I hear you're looking to find your way to a Nature clan."
She blinked, a bit startled by this sudden shift in topic. "Yes?" was all she could think to say.
He stopped plucking and laughed. "I'm sorry," he said, still chuckling. "That was a bit abrupt, wasn't it?"
But his amusement was contagious, and Ayla felt herself smiling in return. "It was. But I take this to mean you know someone who can help me?"
"You could say that," Sparrow said mysteriously.
Ayla waited for a moment, but he simply began plucking at his harp again.
"Well?" she finally asked. "Who is it?"
The skydancer glaned at her in mock surprise. "Why me, of course."
