Chip
The hollow's other courier
Chip fidgeted with her claws below the edge of the recruiter’s desk where the bored skydancer couldn’t see, her (hopefully) one admission to the nervousness she tried so hard to hide.
The recruiter was still scribbling out Chip’s information on her exaltation form. Chip shifted her feet, resisting the urge to try and peer over the top to see what they were writing, exactly. How long did it take to copy down her details? She’d been surprised the Hollow kept records, even. Thousands of dragons left to serve the Flamecaller—what was one more?
“Will I be allowed to bring my items?” she blurted at last, unable to stand the sound of the scratching quill any longer. “Uh, my clothes? Or do I dispose of them somewhere?” The recruitment office was set in an alcove just off one of the main throughways in the Emberglow Hollow, and Chip caught sight of many dragons—scales and eyes all so brightly and distinctly colored—passing by, but their comforting hubbub was deafened by the dull gray walls of volcanic rock that shielded the office, leaving only that damn quill scratch scratch scratching away.
The skydancer peered over the top of their glasses at her, expression flat and slightly annoyed, for one second, then returned to writing. “Take what you will. The Exalted who greet you will tell you what you may keep. There we are.” They stamped an official-looking seal at the bottom of the scroll, ripped a piece off, and handed the curling parchment to Chip.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, automatically looking down at the paper even as she started to sidle away. Then stopped, jerking her gaze back to the skydancer, who’d already begun to turn away to some other task. “Uh, excuse me, this says I’m to report to site tomorrow at midday? Is that—I mean, I thought I was—Am I not leaving. Now? Immediately?”
The recruiter stared at her blankly through the entire stumbling mess of a question. Then, “It is as the paper states.”
Chip clenched her claws, the parchment crunching crisply in her grasp. “Oh. I didn’t . . .” She swallowed, trying hard not to tremble. She knew nothing of this lair, had made no further arrangements upon arriving, expecting to be gone again by the end of the day. Where would she—what would she even do—
The skydancer studied her, then heaved a great sigh and hauled themself out from behind the desk, plodding past Chip to stick their head out of the alcove. Chip watched, stupefied, as they watched the crowds for a minute, then yelled in a startlingly loud bellow, “Mynt! Hey! Newcomer needs a guide!”
And a voice yelled back, “I’m a courier, Bell, I got things to deliver!”
“Well, so’s this one! She can lend you a claw and you can deliver her somewhere last!”
“Ugh! Fine—you owe me a pastry at that new cafe, though!”
“Call it a date,” they said drily, and pulled back in.
Chip blinked at them, her claws clutching the strap of her messenger’s bag self-consciously, but Bell merely gave her a “go along, then,” nod out the office.
“Thanks?” Bell rolled their eyes indulgently and Chip scuttled past them—nearly running into another nocturne striding in from the opposite direction.
“Oof! Woah there, newbie!” The nocturne—the courier Mynt, Chip surmised, from his attire—steadied her before Chip could stumble into the wall. “Sorry about that.”
“No, no, my fault—” Chip said quickly, disoriented by so many sudden changes so fast, but Mynt waved that off, forestalling any further awkward back-and-forth apologies or even a proper introduction by shoving a great pile of packages in her claws.
“Come along then, newbie!” he chirped, already barreling back out of the office. “Mail doesn’t wait!”
Chip hared after him, glad to have one sure goal in this strange place—and a familiar one, at that. She could deliver packages. And with Mynt jabbering about every establishment and dragon they passed and stopped at to hand off a box or letter, she was getting an extensive, if rambling and somewhat disjointed, tour of the place.
Not that you’ll be staying here any longer, Chip reminded herself, as she and Mynt clambered up a fence to gaze down at a resident’s cultivated koi pond.
Still, she could admit, the Hollow had a plentitude of hidden delights to explore.
~
“Aaaaaaand that’s the last one!” Mynt said as Chip trotted back from setting the parcel on the step of some resident’s den, as the recipient hadn’t been home. “Alrighty then, I’ll drop you off at the common dens, where any traveler or guest can grab a bunk, then—”
“Actually,” Chip broke in, nervous but also strangely determined. “I was hoping to thank you for your kindness in showing me around.” She dug out the last of her coin from her bag, just enough for a meal. “That pastry cafe you mentioned, maybe? I owe the favor, really, not Recruiter Bell.”
Mynt made a modest scoffing sound of protest. “Oh, no need for that! I was just using you as free labor, after all.”
“I had nothing else to do,” she said honestly. “It was a perfect way to spend the day—otherwise I’d have been sitting somewhere biting my claws to nubs until tomorrow,” she joked, knowing it wasn’t far from the truth.
He tilted his head. “Tomorrow, yeah. You’re joining Flamecaller’s ranks?” And to Chip’s assenting nod, went on, “If you don’t mind me asking, what for?” He nudged her wing with his own. “You’re quick, good at what you do. We could use you—the Hollow, that is, for couriering.”
Chip hesitated. He’d told her so much today, had been so friendly and open to her, a stranger. But could she really say the truth? She didn’t want to lie. “Maybe—could we talk at the cafe?”
Mynt laughed. “Tenacious! Well, I see I have no choice in the matter then—I’m curious, now!”
Chip breathed out in relief that he wasn’t offended, and followed as he winged through the cavern to yet another cozy alcove, lit with decorative paper lanterns strung all along the walls, where they were soon settled at a small table in a corner with mugs of tea and a small platter of delectable chocolate cream buns—before long, a small platter of crumbs.
Sipping her tea, Chip finally felt calm enough to answer his question. “I don’t really know,” she confessed, not daring to look at Mynt in her embarrassment. “I’ve felt . . . aimless, for a while now.”
Mynt made a thoughtful hum. Chip chanced a glance, her eyes catching on a smear of chocolate on his jaw. She pushed away the impulse to wipe it away herself, and motioned it to him, who rubbed it off with a faint look of surprise. Then he gestured her to continue. “Go on—if you’re willing, that is. I know I talk a lot, but. I’m a ready listener, too.”
Looking at him, Chip believed him. So she took a deep breath, and for the first time, spoke her uncertainties and frustrations aloud—admitting to herself, and starting to figure out, she thought, why she was so afraid.
And Mynt, listening attentively, made her wonder: Did she need to be scared anymore?
(This final few paragraphs were written by me)
"You requested us, Mynt?" Frostfang asked as the green nocturne approached. He didn’t even notice the second nocturne until she had stepped out from behind Mynt.
"…and who is this?"
Chip, who had been filled with confidence, suddenly wished that she could turn invisible. This is one of the hollow's leaders, after all. What if he said that she had to be exalted? In the beginning, Chip had accepted her fate as 'fodder', but after spending some time with Mynt, she started to think that she'd be happier if she stayed in the hollow.
"Yes, I did." Mynt responded. Unlike Chip, he didn’t seem to be nervous talking to Frostfang. "I had a question regarding our exaltion policy."
The icy-looking spiral seemed confused. "What is confusing about it?"
Mynt glanced over at Chip, before looking back over at Frostfang.
"Oh. I’m not confused about it. I just wanted to know if-"
"-if I can stay." Chip blurted. She instantly regretted doing so, and prepared for Frostfang to be upset at her. "Stay?" The spiral asked. "Why would you want to stay? Isn’t your purpose to be sent to Flamecaller?"
"…Well, I’m
meant to be exalted…but I’ve spent some time here, and I would like to stay." Chip half-mumbled. She had no clue where this small ounce of courage had come from, but she wasn’t going to let it go to waste.
Frostfang was already starting to absent-mindedly fidget on the spot when a second spiral entered the private chamber. "I think that we could…alter your arrangement…and let you stay." The newcomer said.
"Are you certain, Elen?" Frostfang asked, looking over at his partner.
"This will be the first time a dragon destined to be sent to Mather becomes an active member of our hollow."
"Maybe…I can be useful." Chip said quietly.
"Pardon me?" Elen asked. "I didn’t quite get that."
"I helped Mynt out with some of his deliveries." Chip continued. "Maybe I can—become a courier?"
Mynt worried that the spirals would reject her idea and send her off to be exalted immediately. However, these thoughts were interrupted by Elen.
"That sounds perfect!" The blue spiral exclaimed.
"Mynt can assist you, which is perfect as you two are already acquainted."
Chip glanced over at Frostfang, who looked less fidgety now.
"I suppose the lair
would benefit from a second courier."
"It’s settled, then. You may stay."
Chip turned to face Mynt, excitement having replaced all of the fear inside her.
"I…I can actually stay! I can’t believe it!"
"Take a deep breath." Mynt chuckled. "We have a lot of work to do."
"At least we can do it together." Chip added with a smile as the two nocturnes exited the chamber.
Drako
