《waterbird.》 a good start. [author¡¯s note: dragons don¡¯t use contractions (do not -> don¡¯t) when speaking. if you catch any contractions used in the dialogue, please don¡¯t hesitate to correct it. also, the frequent references to water don¡¯t have anything to do with the title; it¡¯s the other way around. Your name is Drew, and you are dead. You feel dead, at least. You have just finished your daily laps in the Tetherdown community pool, doing 7 more than usual. The large, grey tiled chamber is dry of other dragons. Your every sound echoes back as you haul yourself out of the blue-green water. The area closed almost half a chime ago, but the staff tend to make an exception for you when draining the area of poolgoers. This is partly because you¡¯re a regular on good terms with the staff, but also, you think, because you are disabled. Or rather, ¡°disabled¡±. You have wings. Out of the vast sea of genes that you could¡¯ve been given, your parents¡¯ sex resulted in the one combination that would give you these two large, batlike appendages above your shoulders. Purely, you think your wings are pretty poly. As you stagger, rubber-legged, through the flap of the sunroom door, you can¡¯t help but admire their purplish scales and barbed claws in the mirror. They¡¯re a perfect analog to your hide and horns. They look almost natural, although society would disagree. You slump to the warm tile floor with a heaving sigh. You somewhat regret doing so many laps. But then, more work is healthy and keeps you away from¡­ home. You decide to stop that stream of thought. The ceiling lights and fan grates on the walls are not running. The staff on duty, a cemale named Sever, lay on the floor by the control panel, tapping away at a touchscreen device. Le has been waiting for you, perked up when you walked in. ¡°Things goin¡¯ down, stinga?¡± Sever greets you. ¡°Hello,¡± you respond. ¡°Can I ask this question again: how have you not been discharged from your job yet?¡± ¡°Sink down, stinga. I know when n¡¯ when not to leak slurs.¡± Sever tilts ler head. ¡°Although you have not hit puberty yet, is that right? So I can not go calling¡¯ you a stinga yet.¡± ¡°My tail started developing a couple of cycles ago. So you are poly. Insult away, hen. And dry me off when you are done, please.¡± Sever laughs. ¡°You have got it, bat!¡± Le sits up and turns a couple dials on the control panel. The lights glow. Warm light and gentle breeze fills the room. Sever lays back down to mess with ler touchscreen device again. As the relaxing, sunlike heat dries you, you return to your original internal dialogue. It was too negative. It can be hard to convince others to consider a weird birth defect as ¡°poly¡±. Especially when the unnatural appendages brush them in school hallways, or smack them in the face when you¡¯re involuntarily gesturing. The awkwardness of wings is a boon, in your opinion. It lets you know who and who not to be friends with, depending on whether a dragon shudders or shrinks back in a ¡°subtle¡± movement when you touch them. Having succeeded in turning a negative train of thought into a positive one, you decide to just relax on the floor and pass the time. You¡¯d like to keep as much time away from home as possible. Going out to swim is one of your main strategies of escape. Your thoughts devolve into blurry images of winged touchscreen devices writing song lyrics as you begin to drain off. Just as your eyes begin to sink closed, Sever speaks. ¡°Woah there, birdie. You are not gonna be sinkin¡¯ asleep in here.¡± ¡°Mmm¡­ oh. I have remorse. I think that I am dry.¡± ¡°Then git. You are trespassin¡¯ on closed property.¡± You labor to your feet. ¡°Well is well, mestro. I will drain out now.¡± ¡°Yeah, you betta. Next time I am gonna report your proboscis to the Sharps.¡± You grin. ¡°There is no need. My family has already been cloudlisted.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ what?¡± Your smile vanishes. Whoops. You stumble out the doorway.
You wobble over the bridges that cross the slideways, heading to the ring that leads to your den. Your mood gradually darkens in anticipation of rejoining your family. It¡¯s fourth season, and the trees dotting the different town rings are just starting to bud. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. You scold yourself for letting your situation slip. Is Sever going to start pitying you now? Ler casual, romantic insults are always a fun reprieve from the unwanted pity of others. You¡¯ve felt a connection with ler and Weston, but pity isn¡¯t going to make it stronger. You reach the fourth ring of the town and flop into the slideway. The news headlines of dragons being crushed by the machinery or flayed by the riding belts used to scare you, but over time you realized that the slideways are actually very safe as long as you¡¯re not an idiot. Hmm.. you guess that could count as a positive thought? You¡¯re definitely not dumb enough to get injured on this thing. Maybe dumb is a bad word to use there. You¡¯re no Coco Carson Smith, but you¡¯re also not a cloudbrained Director. You¡¯re uncaffeinated, you¡¯re mostly mentally healthy, and you¡¯re mostly awake. Splash. Another train of thought made more open-minded. Of course, part of the reason you don¡¯t get hurt is because you only take the slow lane. At least, you only do when you¡¯re heading home. Anything to avoid seeing¡­ nope. Negative thought. You scan around for romantic faces sliding by to distract yourself. Your eyes detect only stares. Stares, and eyes that are pointedly not looking at you, which is just as annoying. You catch a seemingly genuine smile of greeting directed your way, from a greyish cemale on the medium lane. You don¡¯t recognize ler, and le is about your age. You immediately start to form an attraction between ler and one of your friends¡­ no. A random passerby; not going to happen. Le probably doesn¡¯t even like you. You pass by increasingly run-down wood buildings. Buildings that probably didn¡¯t belong to the dragons who lived in them, because the residents had traded off all of the buildings¡¯ shares in order to support themselves. The town Directors probably owned half of the buildings in this ring. The flick of a tail could render dozens of dragons homeless should the Sharps decide to claim the residences. You slide past a procreation pavilion, a large, clean white circle of tile that Your house is approaching. Your parents would probably be meeting on that pavilion every round or so if they ever left the house. Their trio had ended rounds ago. They should have sought out more connections and entered a relationship web. Then they could be happy and supported, and you could live in a fawnhome like a normal fawn. Your house scrolls into view among the leaning, shacklike homes split by narrow brown strips of grass. You flop off the slideway, more limply than when you got on. You skid slightly on the shock absorbers lining the edge. You stand up and trudge towards the faded, splintered facade of your building. The door flap has no lock. Your parents traded away the lock¡¯s voucher when they bought recording equipment a round ago. Or maybe two rounds ago. The seasons sort of blend together in your mind. The new owner of the lock, some absolute bird living off in Vividino, decided to claim the lock. A locksmith arrived the next day to remove it, and since then your door has swung freely from its hinges. Storms are a nightmare. You duck under the door flap and into the room. A dusty kitchen greets you, the counter piled with takeout and the fridge slid open. The trough and a stack of investment boxes sit at the far wall, and to your right, your parents are working in the recording studio. ¡°Studio¡±. Your girlparent is currently spitting lyrics that the trio surely spent cycles crafting. ¡°We break your back We¡¯re bats We¡¯re on caff We¡¯re really floatin¡¯ crazy Crazy like a bat on caff Oh snap, where back to that We¡ª¡° ¡°Wow, bats.¡± you gush. ¡°Gerry G would kill for lyrics like that.¡± ¡°¡ªped in plast¡ª¡° Your girlparent, Villa, freezes, registering your existence. ¡°You little bird!¡± ¡°Hello.¡± You splash a grin. ¡°How is work going?¡± ¡°I hate you!¡± ¡°So I have heard.¡± ¡°I am hard at work giving you a future! You will not interrupt!¡± ¡°I am kind of making my own future. I am working hard in school, fishing for job opportunities in the future, and researching good places to move and escape our cloudlist. I guess that does not compare to writing hit songs, though, Villa Buyers Tess: the next Mestro Maddie?¡± Villa growls and gives you a murderous look. ¡°I will rip off your wings.¡± You give a practiced yawn. ¡°That one¡¯s a drop overused.¡± Villa hisses. ¡°Get. Out.¡± ¡°Get out and go¡­ where, exactly? The curfew is in¡­ twenty moments, I believe?¡± Your doeparent Ruth watches you in silence, calculation. You somehow know le has something planned. ¡°Ya know what she means,¡± Your boyparent, Dallas, snarls. ¡°Git to your bedcushion.¡± You saunter approximately 5 paces and settle down into your bedcushion in the corner. Your parents keep their cushions by their ¡°studio¡±. They placed yours as far away from them as possible¡ª in the far corner, right beside the trough. The trough leads to an underground pit, because this part of the town was never updated with running water. It tends to smell on humid days. ¡°So.¡± you begin. ¡°Shut it.¡± hisses Dallas. ¡°Have you made any profits from your lates¡ª¡° ¡°I said shut it!¡± ¡°You¡¯re still recording.¡± ¡°Ya are not eatin¡¯ this day!¡± ¡°Well is well. That is what school is for. That, and giving yourself a future.¡± ¡°Poly, then.¡± Ruth responds with a wicked grin. ¡°You will no longer go to school.¡± You freeze. ¡°After all, it is a bit taxing for us, income-wise. It might be a better financial decision.¡± ¡°You can not¡­ No, it would not.¡± ¡°Why do you want to go to school anyway? Is it not a drop boring?¡± ¡°No, it is not. I want to go so I can get us out of this hole we are in.¡± ¡°You mean, you want to get yourself out.¡± ¡°No, us.¡± ¡°I see. In that case, you can stay in school.¡± You hesitate. This sounds suspicious. Ruth continues staring and calculating. ¡°We have been meaning, for quite a while now, to ask about all the caffeine you have been shipping lately.¡± You don¡¯t know what le¡¯s talking about. ¡°I have not¡ªWha¡ª?¡° ¡°You know, just distributing around the neighborhood is not going to get you a lot of income.¡± ¡°But I do not¡ªYou¡­¡± ¡°You know where most of the country¡¯s caffeine is sold?¡± ¡°No. No.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. In schools. If you plan to help us get out of the hole, shipping a few packages around the school would be a good way to start.¡± ¡°I will not.¡± ¡°You will. And if not, I am afraid we will have to report you.¡± ¡­No. a healthy coping skill. Positive thought. Positive thought. If you don¡¯t carry your parents¡¯ drugs, they¡¯ll report you for selling them. No. Positive. Your parents¡¯ income is more stable than you thought, assuming they began selling drugs before they forced you to. ¡­That¡¯s not very positive. You¡¯re riding the slide way towards school suspicious packages sitting in a pack between your wings. In your pocket, tied around your neck, is a note detailing exactly where and when to bring the packages. The 4th season air makes you shiver. The sun is rising, making the melting snow sparkle like the ocean. You wish you lived near the ocean. Then you could swim 30 drains to Mundi M¨¢z, like the dragon Brekke did when they were the first one to reach Endin. Endin quickly became a peaceful dreamland, while Mundi remained a tyrannical silverscape. Over the eras the two biggest islands on Toto switched places, and you were born on the metal one. Positive thought. Positive thought. You can still go to school. Your doe parent was just joking about denying you an education. If you can call ler sick, almost experimental pranks ¡°jokes.¡± Better. More. Think about your web. You have one of the healthiest webs in the school, you think. You feel warm and aroused just thinking about them. You spent about a season of drama before you fell in with Weston Dell Hill and Jack Starr Davis. Jack brought with him Kayy Polly Evanson and Dirk Orange Ares. You connected Dirk with Weston, and so did Kayy. Since then the five of you have been close partners, possibly close enough to last until you dry out naturally. You smile and rest your head between your talons as you lay on the warm belt. You try to disconnect from your thoughts on that happy note. The rest of the ride is uneventful, and soon you hop off the track and skate to a stop in front of the Tetherdown Late Youth School. The school is in the center ring of your hometown. The lawn is brown and muddy, not yet touched by the fourth season¡¯s life. Dozens of dragons tread through it in distinct clusters of partners from the same fawnhomes. You have no fawnhome, and therefore no cluster. So what? ¡°Cluster¡± is just the word you¡¯re using. You don¡¯t walk in a group, but you still have a group. So stop trying to make yourself feel inferior. You already have plenty of reasons to feel¡ª You shut your brain up and start toward the brown-brick facade of the building. You file through one of the door flaps. You receive several words of greeting from various dragons you don¡¯t know all that well. ¡°Waterbird, hi!¡± ¡°It is good to see you.¡± ¡° Been swimmin¡¯ it down at the pool?¡± You also notice, per usual, that the milling crowd inside the entry hall is giving you a wide berth. How can you be both well-liked and repulsed among everyone? Their romantic callouts seem strained and shallow, when you think about it. Maybe they¡¯re all just acting, to avoid offending you? Or maybe you¡¯re just projecting your anger onto everyone else? You ignore yourself and head over to the meal line. Most of the dragons in the large, low-ceilinged room are not eating; most of them ate at home. The entry hall is mostly dotted with dragons lounging around until school starts. Or those who felt that their daily meal was too small. Or those who have no daily meal at all. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Your parents tend to eat in the evening, when there¡¯s less eaters and lower prices. Villa or Dallas surely did not make this wise decision; only Ruth uses strategy like that. Dallas¡¯ threat last night was not an empty one. He did, and frequently does, deny you a NEGATIVE THOUGHT. Look! There is no line. Few eaters means no line. The self serve counter is flooded with various meats and fruits. They all look different, but in your eyes, it¡¯s all just food. You grab a basket and fill it with as much random food as you can fit, then pick it up between your teeth and wander into the crows of dragons eating and chatting. The routine feels normal enough to make you forget that you¡¯re carrying things you¡¯re not going to think about. You spot your partners waiting, in their usual spot in a far corner of the room. You approach them, stepping around groups of dragons talking, sleeping, eating, and set your basket next to where your web lies together, almost in a pile. They all look up when you arrive. ¡°Oh¡­ hello, Drew!¡± Jack greets you. He sounds halfhearted, but you know he¡¯s sincerely happy to see you. ¡°Hello,¡± you say as you lower yourself onto the floor. ¡°We¡­ we have missed you.¡± ¡°You missed me? Why? I saw you yesterday.¡± Dirk lays an arm over your neck as you eat. You rest a wing on his back. ¡°Jack possesses concern over your well-being. I would say that we all hold similar worries. I believe you already have this knowledge.¡± ¡°My house is safe.¡± ¡°¡®Safe¡¯ does not always equal ¡®healthy¡¯¡±. ¡°I am not sick.¡± ¡°You have no sickness, but you are being deliberately dense.¡± You swallow a piece of venison. ¡°I have appreciation for your concern, as always, but there is nothing you can help with. I am stuck.¡± ¡°We can help you not be stuck after school. I like it when you are not stuck.¡± Kayy begins to explain about the swim team tryouts that are happening at chime 6 today. You already knew about them, and you believe that you would do well in them; however you have no plans of joining the swim team, because¡­ ¡°With what items am I going to pay for the trials? I can not join the swim team.¡± Kayy frowns. ¡°That was a not sincere statement. You know that we are able to get items to pay.¡± ¡°I do not want you to pay for me.¡± You consume two melons at once. ¡°That was not sincere. You are angry. Anger means you are afraid or in sorrow, or otherwise upset.¡± ¡°Yes, it does mean one of those things.¡± ¡°You trick others for profit very often. We trick with you and we do not pay you. Being paid makes you feel embarrassed.¡± You jerk your head to the right. ¡°Yes, it does make me feel that.¡± ¡°We are going to trick others to help you pay for the trials. You will like it. You find it fun, and it gives you a rush.¡± ¡°No, I will not like it. I do not want to trick anyone.¡± ¡°¡­You do not?¡± Jack asks, confused. ¡°No I do not!¡± You hiss. ¡°It is so¡­ insincere. Messed up. Silver!¡± ¡°¡­But we do things like that all of the time, and you enjoy it.¡± ¡°Well, maybe I¡¯ve developed a conscience about those things.¡± ¡°You make me sad,¡± Kayy says. ¡°I have remorse. What am I doing?¡± ¡°You are upset.¡± ¡°I am upset. Goodbye.¡± You throw off Dirk¡¯s arm and climb to your feet, weighed down by the packages on your back, and walk away. ¡°Walking away is a healthy coping skill,¡± you hear Kayy saying behind you. drone, not monarch. You spend the next few chimes of class dwelling on your interaction with you partners. What is wrong with you? There is nothing wrong with you; you were just upset. You remember telling yourself yesterday that you are mostly mentally healthy. You were trying to be more ¡°open-minded.¡± Your don¡¯t need to split your head open any more than it already is. You¡¯re losing your mind as the time to deliver your dru¡ªno, not ¡°your drugs¡±. Just ¡°the drugs.¡± Yesterday, you were ¡°mostly mentally healthy.¡± But today you can barely think. Yesterday, you were not caffeinated. But you will help someone else drug themself today. Yesterday, you were ¡°mostly awake¡±. Now, you¡¯re mostly dead because you spent the night in a sort of restless limbo state where degrading, half conscious thoughts flooded through your head like the Ila Callor river delta. Stop. Stop. You are currently in Vivish class. You are doing very well in this class, like most of your other ones. You like learning Vovish. It¡¯s a fun, simple language. Ma pueble nomo Tetherdown. My town is named Tetherdown. Ma ve e on agui esi nocho. I will go to the water tonight. Ma pensi o¨¢ loce. Shut up. Your thoughts do not sound crazy. Like a bat on caff. Oh snap, we¡¯re back to that. ¡°That¡± being drugs. You are now explaining your own disjointed jokes to yourself. If you can even call them ¡°jokes¡±. You realize you¡¯re panicking. The dragons around you are confused, both at your obvious tension and at the fact that you¡¯re not laying in your usual spot next to your partners. You can¡¯t lay with Dirk and Weston. You¡¯re guilty, you¡¯re nervous, you¡¯re guilty¡­ you¡¯re nervous that your web might suspect something. The silent, attentive look Weston gives you from across the room tells you that le does suspect something. Is your trio going to dry up because of this? Once you fall out with Weston, you¡¯ll be detached from both Dirk and Jack, and Kayy afterward, and then¡­ Stop. Positive thoughts. You love your web. You will not fall out, and you will persist until the natural relationship period ends and you dry up peacefully. Or until they find out that you¡¯re selling drugs and disown you. No. They wouldn¡¯t disown you. Who runs the business? Your doe parent used the word ¡°distributing¡±. That implies that le, like you, is the drone, and not the monarch. You would know, too, if your parents were storing drugs in your tiny home. Someone, somewhere is probably employing your parents to run orders to customers, like you are. You stop caring. You¡¯re never going to meet this dragon. They don¡¯t need to steal your headspace. Neither does any sort of negative speculation about your parents¡¯ lives. Or any thought about them at all, now that you consider it. You batter down the silver part of your brain and get through the rest of Vivish class. The chime rings, signaling both the end of the class and the time to make your delivery. Your panic rockets into the cloud, then plummets back down into an ocean of calm. Your burning mind cools as you stride toward the door, brushing past Weston and Dirk. Your country is called the Supervised Island of Endin, but your school has no cameras. Most places do not, because the ¡°Supervising¡± refers to the rich, privileged militia the Directors employ, who do absolutely nothing until the Directors call upon them to evaporate any dissent among the citizens. The lack of actual supervision allows those such as the Misdirector to commit their ¡°protest murders¡± with little repercussion. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Random thoughts of serial killers drain out of your mind. You head through the milling crowd toward the reclusive corner indicated by your note. A dragon you know is sitting, waiting,. He gives you an amused look. ¡°Well,¡± Says Dante Burgen Top, ¡°Drew. I am surprised, very surprised. You are the last dragon I would expect to see shipping caff.¡± Avoiding his eyes, you undo your pack in silence. Dante doesn¡¯t matter. He deserves no interaction. He does not deserve the attraction your despicable brain forms between him and Weston. You remove the packages of powder from your bag and toss them at Dante¡¯s feet. You retie the pack and look at Dante expectantly. With an easy, practiced movement, he pulls a voucher out of the pocket dangling from his neck and flicks it over to you. You catch it in your mouth. You drop the paper onto your talon. You pocket it and walk away. You hate Dante. You hate your inevitable attraction to him. You hate your parents. You hate yourself, because you feel the same pleasurable rush you typically get when you run schemes with your friends to gain profit. You turned down something fun today, for something that will ruin your life.
When school ends, you don¡¯t go to the tryouts, and you don¡¯t go swimming because the tryouts are taking place at the community pool, the only public pool in town. Your mind¡¯s been blank since you met with Dante. You don¡¯t feel like doing anything. You want to lay on your cushion and do nothing. To curl up and exist until the cushion rots and you¡¯re coated in dust. You¡¯re not sad. You¡¯re not angry. You¡¯re just¡­ blank. Empty. The lake isn¡¯t calm; the water¡¯s frozen. You circle your house twice on the slideway, not so much apprehensive of going home, but apprehensive of moving your body at all. On your third slide-by, a dragon hops onto the track and slams into you. You¡¯re knocked onto your side, rolling over your left wing. ¡°Ow! Can you please¡­¡± You falter, recognizing your partner Weston beside you. Le gives you an unreadable look and says, ¡°Drugs.¡± You don¡¯t meet ler eyes. You¡¯re a little abacked by ler bluntness. Vivish, Weston¡¯s native language, is a blunt and efficient language. Le asks, ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I feel like you know why I am selling the drugs.¡± Weston jerks ler head to the right, ¡° Yes, I know. I mean: why did you not tell us?¡± You glare down at the track. ¡°I am doing something horrible! Why would you want to know how despicable I am?¡± ¡°Incinere. Messed up. Silver.¡± Weston says. ¡°You are not silver. You are surviving.¡± ¡°You do not¡­ You do not understand! I am going to ruin lives with the drugs I¡¯m selling!¡± ¡°Are you making them?¡± ¡°What? No, I am not!¡± ¡°That is my point. You are a drone. Not a monarch. It is not your fault.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡° ¡°If you were rich you would be greedy for selling. You are not rich. You are selling because you need it.¡± You sigh and slump your head onto the track. The two of you pass under a bridge. You feel a little uncomfortable having Weston here without another counterpart, You feel¡­ compressed, nearly squirming, It¡¯s not the only reason you¡¯re uncomfortable. ¡°I¡­ I had a chance of getting my family out of our hole. I would work a few more rounds in this school, and get invited into a final school in Captal Ridges, and smuggle my family away with me. ¡°But if I have to keep selling caffeine¡ªand I will¡ª I am sunk. I will get caught and lose the respect of the Captal schools, and I will deserve it because I ruined other dragons¡¯ lives, too.¡± ¡°As I said: You¡¯re not a life ruiner. And if you do not want to ruin your own life, do not get caught. You are good at that. ¡°You are not going to tell anyone?¡± ¡°Never have. Never will. Goodbye.¡± Weston rolls off the track and walks off toward the bridge you just passed. Your house is approaching, and you prepare to meet your family again. bad shit ahead. i will start uploading much more erratically over the coming weeks, hopefully returning to consistency around the end of May. i am graduating from high school soon, and due to complex family drama, i will have to immediately move out. i¡¯ll be working out plans. i am also trying to focus on a venture of mine¡ªa game¡ª that will hopefully generate a small income i can use to pay my share of the bills without having to apply for a job immediately. i¡¯m super ADHD and would be far more successful churning out creative products nonstop than working in a restaurant or store until i can pay to get certified in a coding language. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. i WILL update next week. have a decent day!