#cimmerian currents

[little-devil-child-g]

Reading the new @pyrrhia-times chapter and thought of this instantly upon reading the below paragraph:

You guys should totally read it btw 👀

[halo-mango]

Draw Barb ❤️

Barb fans rise up

[pyrrhia-times]

Cimmerian Currents

Prologue - Useless Prince

Waves lapped gently against the dark shore. The moon’s pale light reflected off the white sands of the beach. A small crab hurried out of the way as a deep blue dragon rose up from the water. He had a ghostly white underbelly that extended upwards in small bands like a skeleton. The dragon shook and thousands of water droplets sprayed onto the beach causing several more of the small creatures to scuttle away. The dragon slowly stretched out his sleek limbs, then gazed up at the stars quietly blinking in the dark sky.

It’s so peaceful tonight, he thought.

His wingtips brushed against the soft sand and he took in a deep breath of the fresh salty breeze. The crabs, apparently used to this routine, continued about their business scuttling across the beach and over the dragon’s pale claws.

His mouth opened up into a face-splitting yawn, his teeth glowing bright in the moonlight. I should just spend the night here. No one will even notice I’m gone, like usual. He had spent the last half hour swimming and fighting sea currents to get to the isolated island. He discovered the Island while out fishing by himself, and an annoyingly fast squid had kept slipping out of his talons. It was a small island completely surrounded by soft white sand and had a ring of shrubs and small trees growing around the base of a rock cliff in its center. He had never come across it before, and it seemed like if anyone else had, they hadn’t come back.

The only other dragons he’d told about his quiet beach were his brothers. Well, the ones he was close to anyways. He glanced around searching for the cave in the cliff side he had slept in on some of his previous night visits. The entrance was mostly hidden behind some of the small shrubs growing off of the beach, but the dark opening was right where he had last seen it. The dragon made his way to the entrance, letting his achy wings drag in the sand behind him and letting out a couple more yawns on the way.

I’m starting to wonder if that swim is even worth it. His limbs were exhausted. The Summer Palace, the Deep Palace, and the old Island Palace, as well as multiple other islands in the Bay of a Thousand Scales, had been combined together to create a new large Palace simply called the Sea Palace. Since the Palace had expanded to cover so many islands, it was almost impossible to find some peace and quiet in the Sea Kingdom anymore. This island was his own private paradise.

As he stumbled into the cave, his tiredness instantly evaporated. He noticed much too late the murmuring sounds of other dragons talking. A group of brown scaled dragons snapped their heads in his direction. Gathered together in a semicircle, they had clearly been discussing something, and he was not invited.

MudWings were a rare sight in the Sea Kingdom as many SeaWings still openly antagonized them over the attack on the Summer Palace during the War of the SandWing Succession. Despite this, MudWings, along with all other Tribes, were welcome to live in the Sea Kingdom and at the Sea Palace. Queen Coral had made many attempts to bring the two Tribes closer, yet most MudWings still avoided the Sea Kingdom.

They stared at each other and just as the first flares of panic started shooting into the SeaWings stomach, the darkest MudWing shot from his place and slammed into him.

A scream ripped out of his mouth and the MudWing quickly pinned the SeaWing down using his weight, crushing any remaining air left out of his lungs. His scream abruptly faded into a hoarse whisper. The largest MudWing rose from her place, her tail swishing angrily, and grabbed the SeaWing’s snout in her talons, holding it shut to avoid any more screaming.

She turned to the others and barked out an order. “Search the area. He might not be alone.” The two other MudWings rushed to the cave’s entrance and spread their wings, taking flight.

“Let go,” the SeaWing desperately pleaded in Aquatic, his scales lighting up in panic. “Let me go!”

The large MudWing looked down at him and chuckled softly. She tightened her grip on him, her talon tips pressing into his snout. “Oh darling, the last thing I’m going to do is let you run back home and tell your precious Queen about what you just overheard.” She brought her snout down to his level and looked him in the eyes. “We’re going to keep this a little secret between us, okay?”

The SeaWings blood turned to ice. S-she understood me?

Aquatic was a language only spoken between SeaWings by flashing their bioluminescent scales. Rarely did dragons from other Tribes learn Aquatic, since they could never speak it themselves.

He started violently shivering, the reality of the situation settling on him. His peaceful escape had turned into a nightmare he would ever wake up from.

Why tonight. Why did I come here tonight. Why didn’t I just leave? I wasn’t even paying enough attention to hear them talking. I’m so useless. And now I’m going to die because of it. Even when I’m about to die I’m useless. I could have just left. Why didn’t I just go back home. Why?

He faintly registered the sound of a loud thud behind him, quickly followed by another. The two MudWings lumbered back into the cave after having searched the island, one of the dripping water onto the cave floor.

“Nobody.” One of them grunted.

The SeaWing pressed his eyes shut, tears ran down his cheeks. “Please.”

“Sorry darling, I can’t have dragons running around telling all my secrets.” She whispered into his ear.

The weight suddenly lifted off him. The talons let go of his snout, leaving pinpricks of blood behind. The SeaWing took in a desperate gulp of air, filling his lungs, and lifted his head to meet the red-hot glow of an open maw.

Screaming tore through the night, echoing on the calm waters of the ocean.

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[pyrrhia-times]

Chapter 8 - Mama Bear

Three moons, they’re going to kill us.

Before Croak’s body could even react to the sound of the footsteps approaching the door, he was shoved away from it by a red blur. After a quick moment of disorientation, and being shoved along again by Slag, Croak’s legs finally started working. They raced down the hallway together, too panicked to think about what direction they were heading in.

Run. Don’t trip. Just keep running. Croak repeated in his head like a mantra as the candles along the walls whizzed past them. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he could hear nothing but the sound of his blood rushing.

Is that sunlight? Croak wondered, unsure if his brain was imagining the small glow of light in front of him. The light steadily grew in size as they sprinted down the hallway towards it.

They both tossed themselves out of the hallway and back into the cool afternoon air of the theatre, the last echoes of singing fading as the MudWing finished her song. They skidded to a stop behind the Queen’s guards, one of them offering them a raised eyebrow before turning their gaze back to the stage.

Croak took in several gulps of the fresh air, struggling to calm his heart. The quiet that had settled over the theatre heightening his anxiety, sure that everyone could hear his heart hammering in his chest. Too close. That was way too close. Shivers passed through his body from horns to claw tips, the reality that they were free from danger not quite settling over him.

Croak startled as a feeling of warmth wrapped around him, and looked over to see that Slag had placed his wing over his shivering body. Slag’s gaze was filled with concern.

“Thank you.” He whispered, meeting his gaze. His heart already calming under the warmth of Slag’s scales.

Just then, noise erupted in the theatre again as dragon’s rose from their seats, clapping and cheering, as the MudWing singer bowed gracefully. She rose from her bow and blew a few kisses into the audience before disappearing behind the stage curtains with a whoosh.

Queen Coral turned her attention away from the stage and opened her mouth to speak to Moorhen, but snapped it shut and whirled around frantically as if searching for something.

“WHERE’S AUKLET!?” She bellowed, causing Moorhen to flinch away from her, and the guards to startle.

The SeaWing Queen rose from her seat, flinging her wings open in panic. Her eyes were wide with fear as she swung her head around in search of the Princess. The guards jumped to action immediately and started searching the crowd for the Princess, her emerald green scales absent among the shades of brown and amber that made up most of the audience.

“AUKLET!” The queen shrieked as she flung herself directly at Slag and Croak, making them jump apart. She flew past them and wrapped her arms around Auklet, who had just emerged from the hallway behind Slag and Croak with a group of MudWings.

“For moon’s sake! WHERE were you! You almost scared me to death.” The Queen was shaking her by the shoulder’s now, turning Auklet’s annoyed look into a sour one.

“Relax mom.” She said in an annoyed hiss. “I was just trying to actually socialize with dragons my age.” She signalled to the troop of young MudWings standing behind her with a jerk of her head.

The Queen studied the MudWings with a scowl. “Auklet, if you want to go off with friends you need to tell me.” She said through gritted teeth.

“I’m my own dragon mom. I’m not attached to you anymore, and I don’t need your permission to go for a walk with my friends. In a guarded Palace.” She hissed back holding her gaze with the Queen’s defiantly.

It was well known that the Queen was extremely protective of her daughters, having lost all but three of them over the years, and ending up with thirty-two sons. Queen Coral’s first daughter Orca had been an animus dragon, and had enchanted a statue in the Royal Hatchery to kill off all heirs to the SeaWing throne to secure her place as the next Queen. She had died challenging her mother for the throne, and for years afterwards her statue continued killing off all heirs. The Queen continued having clutches of eggs, with only her sons surviving. Distraught and feeling like she could trust no one but herself, Queen Coral stayed with and protected Princess Anemone’s egg until it hatched, barely eating or sleeping until she knew she was safe.

The Queen’s oldest daughter Tsunami, who had been stolen from the Royal Hatchery before she had hatched, discovered and put a stop to the statue, protecting Auklet’s egg. The Queen had kept both Anemone and Auklet on harnesses while they were dragonets out of fear of losing them even after they had hatched.

“We are going to talk about this later, Auklet.” She flashed to her daughter in aquatic, ending the argument, for the meantime.

“I see Auklet made quick friends with my daughter Ceridae.” Queen Moorhen stepped past Croak and Slag to stand beside the SeaWing Queen. “Don’t worry Coral, all Royal MudWings are trained by our finest soldiers. She couldn’t have better company.”

This seemed to put Queen Coral at ease. She let go of Auklet, who shook herself and joined Ceridae and her siblings as they got seats for the next performance.

“Now, what was it that you wanted to discuss with me again?” Moorhen asked Queen Coral.

Croak stared around at the MudWing throne room in awe. He had never seen such a display of wealth before in his life, and quickly wondered how the SeaWing’s throne room compared. The large room was illuminated by ornate candles and the remaining rays of the setting sun shining from behind the throne.

Moorhen was framed beautifully as she sat on her throne, a large beautifully carved slab of marble. Queen Coral was sitting on the visitor’s throne beside her, which was nearly as impressive.

They leaned close to each other as they talked. Croak strained his ears to hear their conversation over the rustle of a small river that twisted through the colourful tiles of the room.

“I’m sorry to hear about your son.” Moorhen said to Queen Coral. “The news hadn’t reached me. Oh I feel so horrible, if I had known I wouldn’t have made you wait all evening to talk.”

“It’s alright, I should have sent word of the news before my visit.” The Queen conceded. “What I’d really like to discuss is the cause of the death of my son. I’ll let my investigators do the rest of the talking.” She gestured to where he and Slag were standing.

Slag didn’t hesitate to present themselves in front of the throne, taking a small bow. Croak followed in his footsteps, making sure to step over the small river and not in it, and was relieved when Slag started doing the talking.

“Your Majesty, my partner was the one who happened upon the body of Prince Cerulean while out fishing. His body was found burnt to the point of nearly being unrecognizable.”

Queen Moorhen stiffened. “What? Burnt?” She said in a faint voice.

“After discovering his body, local soldiers brought it to the beach of a nearby island, where I arrived to take on the investigation.” Slag continued. “While searching the island me and my partner found scorch-marks and MudWing talon prints in a cave on the island. We have reason to believe that this was the scene of the crime.”

Queen Moorhen’s eyes went wide in shock. She looked at Queen Coral, who put her talons over hers in reassurance.

She genuinely seems surprised. Either that or she’s an amazing actor. Croak thought.

Slag continued his explanations of their investigation, eliciting a gasp from the MudWing Queen at the mention of the drowned MudWing in the Delta village. Hearing Slag talk so formally made Croak feel fuzzy. He wasn’t used to this version of Slag.

When Slag had finished Moorhen sat in silence for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Thank you. You have my verbal and in a moment you will have my written permission to travel wherever in my kingdom you should need to continue your investigation.” As soon as she finished, a dragon rushed to her side with a scroll and a pot of ink. She dipped her talon in the ink and turned to Coral, “we’ll get to the bottom of your son’s death, and the other murder in my kingdom. Please, I hope you know that I would never order my tribe to ever kill a SeaWing, Prince or not.”

“I know Moorhen.” Queen Coral looked at her kindly. “I trust that you didn’t have anything to do with this. What I don’t trust is the conspiracies that will come from this. I don’t want our tribes to grow even more distant.”

Queen Moorhen finished writing her scroll, and stamped it with her official seal, rolling it up and handing it to Slag. “Please know that that soldier wasn’t acting on any orders, if anyone else gives you a hard time just show them this and it’ll shut their mouths.” Slag bowed in thanks, and Croak quickly followed him into the bow remembering that he was currently in front of two Queens.

When they were standing again Croak realized that Slag hadn’t mentioned the conversation they had overheard in the palace hallway earlier to the Queens. He doesn’t trust Moorhen fully yet.

They were both dismissed from the throne room and led away by a rugged looking guard who was covered in scars. Croak wondered if they had been a soldier in the SandWing Succession War. He was thankful to be too young to have ever seen a true battle in his life.

The guard deposited them at the doors of a guest room and wasted no time stalking off to whatever other important duties they needed to do. Croak opened the door of the room and couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face.

“Are all rooms in the Palace like this?” Slag asked in awe. Every corner of the room was covered in brightly coloured pillows and blankets thrown all about to create a colourful nest of coziness.

“I call the giant purple pillow, moons that looks comfortable.” Slag said before flinging himself down on several pillows at once, including the purple one.

Croak was just happy to have somewhere to rest his achy body before they continued their investigation tomorrow. He let himself forget about the whispering voices he had heard from under the door, and quickly drifted off to sleep beside Slag.

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[pyrrhia-times]

Chapter 7 - Hardly Missed

Factchecker sighed in frustration. They were hunched over the draft of the current issue of Pyrrhia Times. The scroll was nearly unintelligible with long greenish-black streaks blotting out most of the text, and neat talonwriting filling out the rest of the blank space on the scroll.

I work with a bunch of bird-brained idiots.

The sun had long set, the scroll in front of Factchecker illuminated by a flickering candle that had nearly burnt through all of its wax. As director, it was their job to finalize every issue of Pyrrhia Times before it got sent out to every corner of the continent.

Factchecker was always dumbfounded with how horrible his staff was at spelling. Even after having passed through Beryl’s stone-cold editing, Factchecker would feel ashamed if this version of the newspaper ever saw the light of day.

Their ears flicked to the doorway, hearing an approaching raucous of dragons. And here they come.

“Factcheckerrrr, come have a few drinks with us at the tavern.” A cream-coloured SandWing with shining green eyes called from the doorway.

When they turned to glance at Emerald, she immediately opened her mouth again before Factchecker could protest. “Don’t make us drag you out of here by your tail, you’ve been shut in this room since sun-high.”

They rolled their eyes, “well, if someone had spelled their words properly, I might have had the time for a couple drinks.”

“Nuh-uh, you’re coming with us whether you want to or not.” Emerald stepped into the room, her fore-arms and talons completely stained by the ink they used, she had even managed to stain the tip of her barbed tail. “That’s the price you pay for art!” She’d exclaim after anyone would ask her about the stains.

Beryl stepped into the room after her, her talons in stark contrast to Emerald's, with barely any staining. “Your scrolls aren’t going anywhere.” She said sternly, making Factchecker’s wingtips flush with heat. “Come on, have a drink. Your back is gonna appreciate the break from being hunched over at your desk nearly all day.”

The dim lighting of the room didn’t do Beryl’s glittering scales justice, in the sunlight her scales reminded them of a pink sunset reflecting off a snowy landscape. They quickly looked away from Beryl and back down to their scroll, the flush in their wingtips spreading.

Factchecker couldn’t say no to Beryl, so they wiped their talons clean on a green-stained cloth and placed a weight at the bottom of the scroll, making sure it wouldn’t curl up and smudge their fresh corrections.

“Alright, alright. Just a few for me though, I don’t want a hangover tomorrow morning.” They agreed begrudgingly.

“Slag is going to be soooo jealous that we managed to convince you to come drink with us.” Emerald snickered.

“He’s probably stuck in some Queen’s dungeon, again.” Beryl added with an eye-roll.

They might be idiots, but they’re my idiots. Factchecker thought fondly.

They made their way through the streets of Sanctuary, passing all number of colourful faces on their way to the tavern. After the war, Sanctuary became a refuge for dragons of all tribes, as well as hybrids, seeking a home when they found themselves without one.

Factchecker enjoyed the organized chaos of Sanctuary, with its mismatched architecture and dragons from all walks of life. It was a stark difference from the brutalist volcanic island he had spent the majority of his life on.

They trotted behind Beryl and Emerald, who were chatting enigmatically. Factchecker could admit that they were happy to be accompanying them, they had never been great at holding conversations, but it felt nice to be included even if they were just listening along.

They walked down the twisting path that led to the tavern. It was a bit of a ways off the main road, insulated in the forest’s trees to keep the rowdy sounds at bay. Emerald and Beryl didn’t hesitate to plunge through the doors, Factchecker quickly following them in.

The tavern was already full of the usual crowd, but there were always some new faces to see. The group looked around trying to find an empty table to seat themselves. After shuffling through the crowd they plopped down at a table towards the back of the tavern.

A waiter was quickly at their table, a grumpy looking SandWing with a crack running down one of his horns, splitting it in two points. “What’ll it be.” He asked.

“Three ales please, OH and some roasted scorpions please!” Emerald replied in a singsong voice.

Factchecker and Beryl both scrunched up their noses in disgust. “What? A girl can’t enjoy her favourite snack?” She protested.

“You know I find your food choices... Disturbing” Beryl expressed. “Just promise to eat them quickly, I hate when they stare at me with their lifeless little eyes.”

“Anything else?” the waiter asked, not amused.

Emerald and Beryl both glanced at Factchecker, who returned their glaces with a quick shake of the head.

“Nope, we’re good.” Replied Emerald.

The waiter stalked off to another table and Factchecker’s friends quickly fell back into conversation. Factchecker half listened while they watched the happenings of the tavern. Their favourite part of visiting the tavern was never the drinks, it was getting to observe other dragons, from tribes all over Pyrrhia, mingle and socialize. Factchecker often dreamed of a world where more towns like sanctuary existed, but change was slow.

Their focus settled on the table across from them, underneath one of the tavern’s many windows. Seated at the table was a white and charcoal coloured dragon with a nasty purple scar trailing down their throat, a small red and black dragon with spectacles sitting on top of their snout, and a vibrant green dragon with red frills running down their body.

Are those... antenna? Factchecker narrowed their eyes to look closer at the green dragon.

“Have you heard about the SeaWing Prince? They’re saying he was murdered, and the SeaWings are blaming the MudWings.” Their focus now fully on the colourful table, Factchecker eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Which Prince? Aren’t there like thirty of them?” The charcoal dragon asked.

“Doesn’t really matter which one it was. The moons know that MudWings and SeaWings already hated each other, and now they’ll have even more excuses too.” The spectacled dragon continued.

“Uhhrgg.” The green dragon groaned. “Dragons are so dumb.”

Factchecker was startled out of his concentration as a plate with several skewered scorpions slammed down on the table in front of him. Emerald let out a squeal of delight and picked up the skewer, quickly plucking the scorpions off one by one with her teeth.

Beryl placed a hand over her eyes. “The poor souls.”

Quickly following the roasted scorpions, three ales were dropped off at their table, foam spilling over the edges of the wooden cups. Factchecker took a sip of the foam, trying to stop more from dripping down.

“So, what were you eavesdropping on?” Emerald interrupted, making a big glob of foam fall down onto the table.

My favourite part. They thought wistfully. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just happened to hear their conversation.”

“You looked pretty laser focused on what they were talking about.” Teased Beryl.

“Okay, maybe I was.” Factchecker sighed. “Something about a SeaWing Prince getting murdered.”

“OOOOOooooo!” Emerald exclaimed excitedly, clasping her talons together. “We haven’t had a story that juicy in AGES!”

“I’m sure that’s what Slag’s got himself wrapped up in now.” Beryl said. “He can’t seem to keep his talons out of trouble.”

Their table erupted in laughter as they started recounting all the times Slag had gotten locked up in dungeons, eventually needing to be rescued by them.

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[pyrrhia-times]

Chapter 11 - Lightning Strikes

“We’re flying straight into the storm!” Slag roared over the booming thunder.

Sharp rain pelted Croak’s body as he struggled against the wind. He concentrated his eyes on Slag flying ahead of him, willing himself to keep fighting against the rain and wind. A strong gust hit him sideways, almost causing him to slam into a sea stack jutting from the water that they were flying past.

Slag caught the wind with his wings, bringing himself backwards and beside Croak. “We can’t keep flying into this storm. It’s only going to get worse.” He shouted, the wind carrying most of his voice away.

As if to prove his point, a bolt of lighting struck the sea stack that Croak had almost just crashed into. The resulting boom shook the air, making Croak and Slag flinch away in fright. A shard of broken whizzed past Croak’s head, nearly nicking his wing.

When the ringing in his ears stopped Croak said, “How long can you hold your breath?”

“What? Why?!” Slag shouted.

“I have an idea, but you’re going to need to trust me!” He shouted back as another wave of thunder roared overhead.

“I trust you.”

“Okay, follow me!” Croak dived down lower, hovering over the choppy water below them. “I hope you inherited MudWing lungs.”

“Pretty sure I did. Wait – we’re going to swim there?!” Slag shouted exasperatedly. “Do you not remember how awful I was at swimming last time I tried?”

“You won’t have to swim much, I promise. We’re going to ride sea currents to the Palace.” He said, the sound of the waves nearly drowning him out. “Follow me, I’ll drag you into the current if I have to!”

He dove down the rest of the way, breaking past the tumbling waves. Quietness wrapped around him as the water muffled the world above him. A flurry of bubbles scattered into the water and floated back up as Slag crashed into the ocean. He spun around in confusion, trying to orientate himself in the water.

I’m going to need to give him swimming lessons after all this.

Lightning illuminated the water as it struck through the sky again. Slag’s head snapped to Croak’s direction, and he gestured to his eyes as the lightning’s illumination disappeared. Right. He doesn’t have night vision. Croak illuminated the scales along his tail and back so that Slag could follow his glow through the water. Slag paddled his way to Croak, pumping his arms and legs wildly through the water. At least he’s keeping his wings tucked in close to his body this time.

Croak turned and started heading deeper into the water, searching for a current. There should be one here somewhere – Aha! He felt the pull of the water as it tried to suck him into the current.

Croak turned around to grab Slag, but he slammed into Croak, knocking them both into the ocean current. He quickly grabbed hold of Slag’s hand, so he wouldn’t accidentally drift away. Well that’s one way to get into the current. Slag flashed him an apologetic grin and squeezed his hand tight.

The current pulled them along swiftly. Croak occasionally dragging them into a new current if theirs veered off path.

We might make it on time to warn the Queen. Croak thought optimistically, the current tugging them along towards the Sea Palace.

Croak’s hand tingled from being clutched by Slag’s. Croak could see the old Summer Palace rising out of the water ahead of them. The island’s cliff walls rose sharply from the grey ocean. The worst of the storm was behind them now, but thunder still grumbled off in the distance.

Please let us have made it in time. A pang of anxiety struck his heart as he thought of being too late to warn his Queen.

The underwater currents had carried them swiftly to the palace, and neither had seen another soul on their way. Croak hoped that the violent storm raging above the ocean had slowed down the MudWing Princess and her sibs.

He squeezed Slag’s hand to get his attention and pointed to the surface. They could fly the rest of the way now, the waves above them having calmed.

They rose into the air, rain pelting Croak’s back and wings as they flew up and above the Sea Palace. His hand felt empty now without Slag’s talons in his. The dense green vegetation opened up, inviting them back into the Palace. They soared down to the visiting level, Croak nearly slipping in his rush.

“Where is Queen Coral? We need to get to her. She’s in danger.” Croak couldn’t hide the fear in his voice as he called out to the guard stationed on the level.

His grumpy expression quickly morphed into wide-eyed alertness. “What? Where’s the threat? The Queen is in danger?” His head whipped around rapidly as he tried to find the source of the threat.

“We don’t have time to explain, please, take us to the Queen.” He pleaded.

The guard briefly looked at them with suspicion before nodding stoically. “Right, you must be the Royal Investigators.” Then he launched himself off the pavilion and dived down, disappearing from view.

Croak rushed after him, Slag following closely behind. The guard waited for them in front of a large waterfall that flowed out from the cliff wall. Once they reached him, he dove into the waterfall, disappearing in a green splash.

“What the?” Slag muttered beside him.

“I can hold your hand again if you need.” Croak suggested, a little smile on his lips.

Slag’s eyes widened and Croak swore he saw his already crimson face turn even more red. Without responding, he dove into the waterfall after the guard. A warm feeling formed in Croak’s chest, but he pushed it aside and dove into the waterfall after him, wings pressed tightly against himself.

Behind the waterfall was hidden a cavern tunnel lit by a faint green glow coming from the ceiling.

“Are those glowing worms?” Slag asked in awe.

The guard ignored him and said, “the Queen and her daughters are in the Royal Chamber. Keep going down this tunnel. It’s the last room. I’ll stand guard here.”

“Thank you.” Croak called out behind them as they rushed down the tunnel. The ceiling was indeed covered in small worms that slowly blinked. It was like looking up at the night sky. Croak briefly stumbled, not looking where he was putting his feet.

Soon the roaring of the waterfall faded to a low hum behind them. “Where are all the guards?” Slag wondered out loud.

A chill crawled up Croak’s spine, he quickened his pace to a sprint, Slag also speeding up behind him.

Why isn’t the Queen guarded? What’s happening?

The tunnel quickly widened into a larger cavern, the tunnel continuing past the room, twisting away in a bend. Relief washed over Croak as he spotted Auklet sitting in a stone chair padded with bright cushions. She sat up and threw the scroll she was reading aside as she spotted them.

“Auklet! Thank the moons.” Croak panted. “You’re in danger – Your mother and Anemone too – Ceridae – She’s on her way to murder the Royal family!”

“Oh, I know.” She said in a calm voice, examining her dark green talons with an uninterested look.

“What?” Croak’s voice choked. His claws screeched on the stone floor as he came to an abrupt stop, Slag slamming into him from behind.

“Two birds with one stone, not a bad idea.” A familiar voice rang out in the cavern. Ceridae stepped out from around the bend with a grin on her face, her siblings following suit. “Oh how I love the way your mind works.”

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[pyrrhia-times]

Chapter 10 - Strong Arms

Distant voices stirred Croak awake. Disoriented and nauseous from his pounding head, he couldn't make out what the voices were saying. The words distorting into what sounded like another language.

Croak tried moving, but his limbs were bound together tightly by twine. His head dropped painfully to the ground as his body was dragged over a log, jolting awareness into him.

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time. It won’t be long until they notice he’s missing.”

“He’s heavier than he looks, you try carrying a whole dragon by yourself.” A voice just ahead of him huffed.

“What about the other investigator?”

“There’s no time. We’ll leave this one as a distraction. We’ve got to hurry up our plans.”

Croak could make out four oddly familiar voices. Despite his panic, he kept his body slack out of fear that they would knock him out again if they realized he was awake.

“Why did that SeaWing have to be a Prince? Anyone else and we wouldn’t have these stupid investigators after us.”

“I told you we should have left the body in the cave.”

“Enough.” A feminine voice barked. “We need to strike now before Anemone suspects anything. The Queen won’t be a problem once we get her little animus out of the way.”

Croak’s body involuntarily stiffened. Panic was starting to rise in his chest, constricting it tightly. The Royal family is in danger.

“Hm? Looks like our guest has woken up.” One of the voices chuckled. His cover was blown.

The dragon who had been lugging him let go of his tail, making it hit the sand beneath him with a loud thud. The bag around his head was swiftly untied and lifted off of him, light flooding into his eyes and making his head pound even harder.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, casting the beach and its visitors in pale blue light. Four vaguely brown shapes stood in front of him, his vision still blurry. Trying to concentrate on their faces only made him wince in pain.

“Hello little investigator.” The largest of the group loomed over him as he lay on the sandy beach. She leaned down and gripped his snout with ice cold talons, pressing them painfully into his skin. “You’ll be a nice little distraction for your friend.”

Croak’s vision was finally able to focus on the face in front of him, his eye’s widening in Alarm. Ceridae? He recognized the MudWing glaring at him with intense eyes. Queen Moorhen’s daughter.

Ceridae opened her maw and Croak stared in horror as the glow of deep flames illuminated her mouth. Without thinking, he illuminated all of his scales at once. The MudWing Princess flinched as bioluminescent light flooded around her. Her siblings roared out in confusion.

A hot blast of air scorched the left side of his body as a spurt of flames shot past him. Croak trashed around, managing to snap the rope binding his wings together. In pure terror he tried to take off, flapping his wings in a frenzy. Without his arms and legs to push him off he only succeeded in kicking up sand and dust into the air.

He heard coughing behind him as his captors struggled with his blinding glow and the sand clouds now spinning around them.

“HELP!” Croak screeched into the morning air.

“Get back here you slimy little squid!” Ceridae roared behind him. He felt another hot blast of air and saw a flash of orange light competing with his own glow. He didn’t have much longer until the sand settled.

Croak desperately tried to stand but tripped over his tied limbs hitting the sand hard beneath him. His lungs burned as he struggled to fill them with air.

A loud roar tore through the air before the sky was split by a streak of red hot flames. Recognizing the roar, Croak nearly burst into tears. He came for me.

He heard a shriek behind him, hoping it hadn’t come from Slag, unable to see what was happening where he lay collapsed on the beach. He continued to struggle against his restraints hoping to snap the rope around his wrists.

I need to help him. He thought, a new flame of panic rising in his chest. Slag was strong, but he would get himself killed fighting a Royally trained troop of MudWings.

Finally the rope broke with a loud snap. With his hands free he moved to his legs, his shaking talons helplessly trying to slice the twine tying them together. He wasn’t going to get to Slag on time.

His hands froze as the sound of wing beats filled the air. Croak glanced up at the sky and saw the soldiers from the Delta village descending with their spears onto the beach.

One of the soldiers landed beside him, sending up a small cloud of sand. “Are you all right?” She asked.

“I’m fine.” He stammered. “Slag- He needs help.”

A deafening roar made him and the soldier flinch. “Fall back!” Ceridae yelled. She kicked sand into the faces of the soldiers approaching her, and took off into the sky.

Two other MudWings took off and joined her in the sky, heading east. Croak’s heart rammed in his chest. He searched the beach for Slag’s body, fearing the worst. His breath caught in his chest as he finally spotted him grappling with a dark, nearly black, MudWing. The MudWing kicked him sharply in the stomach, causing Slag to stagger. The dark MudWing spread his wings, lifting off the beach to join his siblings.

Slag roared in rage and sent a plume of fire into the sky after the MudWing. Croak was sure he saw flames enveloping the MudWing, but he appeared on the other side of the plume and continued into the sky, scales untouched.

In a moment Slag’s rage was replaced with fear as he swivelled his head in Croak’s direction. Before Croak knew it, Slag was slamming into him and wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank the moons.” He gasped. “I thought I lost you.”

“I could say the same.” He let out in an airy breath.

“Are you all right?” Slag loosened his grip on Croak to look at him, eyes squinting against the light from his bioluminescent scales.

“Sorry.” Croak said quietly, realizing that he had never turned off the light of his scales.

“Don’t apologize, it was your scales that helped us find you.” The bigwings of the soldiers said. “We might not have got to you in time without them.”

Slag stepped away from Croak slightly, “I thought I heard you scream in my dream. When I got up, you were nowhere to be found. I was lucky to bump into them and get their help.” He nodded thankfully to the bigwing. “Thank you.”

The bigwing nodded back awkwardly. “Just doing my job.”

“I overheard them talking while they were still dragging me to the beach. The Royal family is in danger. I think they’re plotting to assassinate the Queen and her Daughters” Croak told Slag and the soldiers. “The dragons behind the murder of Prince Cerulean and Sparrow are Princess Ceridae and her siblings.”

“What?” One of the soldiers hissed, all of them tensing.

“How do you know it was her?”

“We met her at the MudWing Palace. She was making friends with Auklet.” Slag uttered in a tense voice. Croak’s stomach sank. Poor Auklet thought she was making a friend, but she was just being used for information.

Silence washed over them as the severity of the situation was realized. “We need to go to the Sea Palace. Now.” Croak said.

The bigwing of the soldiers nodded gravely. “We’ll make sure this information reaches Queen Moorhen as soon as possible” He signalled his siblings and they took off into the sky, the sun now half visible over the horizon.

“Good luck!” He called over his shoulder as they headed back to the Delta village.

Slag wrapped him in his strong arms once again and whispered, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”

Croak squeezed his arms tightly around him in return. “But you did get here on time, that’s what matters.” He said softly. “Come on, let’s go before we can’t catch up to them.”

Slag reluctantly let go of him, and spread his wings, ready to leap into the air. “And I thought I liked to rush straight into danger.” He said with a chuckle.

They rose into the air together and headed after Ceridae and her siblings, dark clouds covering the horizon.

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[pyrrhia-times]

Chapter 9 - Muddy Talons

Croak woke up to the sound of snoring.

He let out a face-splitting yawn and rubbed his eyes. Once he’d blinked away the morning blurriness from his vision he stared around in confusion. Brightly coloured blankets and pillows were strewn about the room in a giant mess, and Slag lay curled up beside him snoring loudly.

All at once the events of the previous day came rushing back to him. The SeaWing Prince’s funeral, travelling to the MudWing Palace, overhearing murderous voices from under a Palace door, their escape, and presenting their investigation to Queen Moorhen.

Overwhelmed by the combined anxiety of all the events from the previous day, Croak covered his face with his talons and pressed his eyes shut. Slag continued to snore loudly beside him, and Croak concentrated on it, finding it oddly comforting.

After several deep breaths, Croak’s body settled back into a quiet state. He lifted his head again and took in the room anew. The candles on the walls were nearly burnt out, no longer resembling candles, but blobs of melted wax.

It must be morning. Croak thought.

Almost as if he had summoned it, he heard a soft knocking on the door before it opened and a Palace guard stuck her head in. “Breakfast is ready. I’ll be waiting outside the door if you need some more time to wake up.” She said in a whisper, noticing Slag still unconscious in a pile of pillows.

“Thank you, we’ll be right out.” He answered her. She shut the door behind her with a soft click.

“Wake up,” he said to Slag. “Time for breakfast.” He hoped the mention of food would wake his friend from his sleep, but he continued to snore away.

He nudged Slag with his tail next, and wasn’t anymore successful. So he grabbed hold of Slag’s shoulders and gave him a good shake, finally managing to rouse him from his slumber. Slag’s head shot up and swung around the room, he had a look of deep confusion on his face.

“Where in the buffalo dung are we?” His morning voice was scratchy from having slept with his mouth open.

“Queen Moorhen’s Palace.”

“Oh yeah.” He blinked a few times, the confusion leaving his face. “We need to get out of here.” He said with a concerned twinge to his voice.

“I still don’t trust that Moorhen doesn’t know what’s going on.” Slag tapped his claws against the hard clay floor nervously. “And there’s what we overheard from the hallway too.” He whispered.

“Whoever is behind this isn’t happy about our investigation.” Tightness returned to grip Croak’s chest as he thought about what they heard while eavesdropping.

‘We need to get rid of them before they find out too much.’ That can only mean one thing. He thought nervously.

A look of determination entered Slag’s eyes. “They might not like it, but we aren’t going to be scared off. We’re going to find out who murdered Prince Cerulean.”

Slag rose up from the mass of pillows he’d slept on and shook off the loose blankets he’d somehow gotten under.

“We need to go back to the Delta village and find out more about the drowned MudWing.” He started towards the door.

“Wait!” Slag’s hand paused, hovering over the door handle. “Can we at least go have breakfast before we leave?” Croak asked.

“Breakfast? How come you didn’t tell me there was breakfast?”

Croak felt rejuvenated after getting a night’s rest and a full belly of food. He had been impressed again by the variety of food the MudWing Queen had served for breakfast, enjoying several roasted quails and a large ostrich egg himself. He’d lost count of all the different things he’d seen disappear into Slag’s maws.

I still don’t understand how he can eat that much. He thought with a small smile on his face. It’s like his stomach is an endless pit.

After stuffing their faces they had excused themselves before the Queens and left to travel back to the MudWing village along the Diamond Spay River. Croak’s wings protested slightly from flying again, but the majority of his soreness had thankfully disappeared.

They soared over thick swamp forests that covered large areas of the Mud Kingdom. The branches of the trees grew in dense twisted knots that would make it impossible for a dragon to travel through, not that it would be pleasant trudging through the squishy marsh soil.

Glad to have wings. Even if they are uncooperative most of the time.

As Croak stared into the thick clumps of trees, he found that the chaos of it all was beautiful in its own way. The trees made homes for all sorts of birds and other small creatures. It created a small sanctuary for these creatures away from the dragon world.

If I were as small as a bird, I could just fly into a clump of trees and disappear. That’d be pretty nice right now. He thought longingly. The dragon-sized world felt too big and dangerous sometimes.

“Hey.” Slag flew up beside him and lightly brushed his wingtip against Croak’s. “You’ve been quiet all flight, are you feeling alright?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be okay. I think.” He was unsuccessful at keeping his voice steady. “I’m just feeling freaked out about what we overheard. Do you think they’re going to follow us?”

“Probably, yeah.” Croak’s face twisted in worry at Slag’s response. “Don’t worry, I’d fight off a whole army if it came to it. We’ll keep each other safe.” He said, giving Croak a reassuring grin.

Croak could spot the MudWing village now, its distinctive clay houses rising up from the earth. He pushed his anxious thoughts to the back of his head as he and Slag flew into the village, heading straight for the village center and landing on the compact well-trodden path that snaked through the settlement.

“Do you remember which hut Fawn was leading us to?” He asked Slag, hoping he’d have a better memory. All of the tall curving houses looked too similar to Croak.

“Not a clue.” Slag answered, scratching the back of his neck as he peered around.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to stick their rumps back where they don’t belong.” A familiar voice sneered from behind them.

Croak spun around to see the soldier and his troop who had chased them away from the village the last time they’d been there.

Slag walked up to them confidently, meeting the group partway as they stalked toward them. He opened his cloth bag and plucked out the scroll Queen Moorhen had given them, and threw it to the feet of the soldiers.

The bigwings snatched the scroll in his talons and unfurled it clumsily with a questioning glare pointed at them.

His face contorted in concentration, then in quiet rage as he finished reading. Faced with the words of his Queen he had no choice but to let them continue their investigation. He threw the scroll back onto the path, “just don’t cause any trouble.” He hissed before continuing along the path with his troop, passing them without another glance.

“I guess they wouldn’t appreciate us asking for help?” Croak said with a nervous laugh.

“Definitely not.” Slag snorted.

Croak looked around them again, trying to find any familiar landmarks that would at least point them in the right direction. While searching, he caught sight of familiar dappled scales and called out, “Fawn!”

She looked around in confusion before spotting him and Slag. Her eyes widened, “what are you doing back here?” She called as she walked towards them.

“We got permission from Queen Moorhen herself to continue our investigation” He answered her.

“You went and talked to the Queen?!” She said in awe. “Is she as beautiful as everyone says?”

Croak felt his wingtips flush as he tried to recall the Queen’s beauty. “I, uh, yes, she was amazing.”

AMAZING? That’s the best you could come up with to describe the MudWing Queen?? Croak cringed inwardly.

Fawn’s eyes twinkled. “I hope I get to meet her someday.”

“Would you be able to help us find the siblings of the drowned MudWing again?” Slag asked.

She shook the dreamy look off her face. “Right, follow me. I’ll bring you to their hut.” They followed her down the village road, taking multiple turns down forks in the road. Croak was grateful to have been able to find Fawn, or else he and Slag might have wandered the village all day in search of the sibs’ hut.

“Here it is.” Fawn stopped in front of a hut with a large field stretching out behind it, a clump of cows were grazing on the thick swamp grass in a far corner of the field. “I’ve gotta run back to my troop, my sibs will be wondering where I’ve run off too.”

She turned and headed back in the direction that they’d come from. “Good luck with the investigation!” She called out with a wave of her wing.

Slag lifted a knuckle and tapped it against the wide door. Croak heard shuffling from inside and a voice called from inside, “Who is it?”

“Queen Coral’s Royal Investigators. We’d like to ask a few questions about your late sibling.” Slag said to the door.

The door swung open to three pairs of narrowed eyes. “What do you want to know about Sparrow?” The largest brown-greenish MudWing asked.

“We heard he drowned. Do you have any more details about the circumstances of his death?” Slag asked.

“He was drowned down the river, some ways from the village.” The MudWing’s eyes softened in sorrow as he remembered the death of his sibling. “Gar and the other soldiers in the village immediately blamed the drowning on the SeaWings,” he continued. “But when we found him, the riverbank only had MudWing talon prints.”

His face grew dark. “Any dragon in Pyrrhia could drown a MudWing. All it’d take is to hold their head underwater long enough. We all saw the talon prints in the riverbed.” His two siblings nodded in agreement.

“Do you think a MudWing killed Sparrow?” Croak asked, nearly in a whisper.

“I don’t think a SeaWing did it.”

Croak sat down beside the riverbed. His head was swarming with questions and theories. He let out a deep sigh and concentrated on the sounds of the water rushing past him.

Sparrow’s siblings had invited them into their home to rest their wings until they decided on their next course of action. Slag and him had discussed theories well into the night, but Croak still couldn’t wrap his mind around a MudWing drowning a member of their own tribe.

Unless they wanted it to seem like a SeaWing did it.

Slag had long since fallen asleep, but Croak couldn’t get his mind to rest. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the sounds of waves washing upon a rocky shore. Images of his home appeared faintly behind his eyelids. Croak’s thoughts stilled somewhat and he slowly felt a wave of calm wash over his mind.

Suddenly a cloth bag was thrown over his head. It muffled the startled scream that made its way out his mouth.

Croak felt something hit his head hard and his mind stilled completely as darkness washed over him.

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