ã€ŠThrough All Our Faultsã€‹


 Beginning Thoughts

    Mistakes

    Accidents

    Fear

    Regrets

    Faults

    Doubt

    Pain

    How does one put a value to a person with all of these weighing down on their shoulders? No matter how you look at it, there is always an ¡®imperfection,¡¯ something that just isn¡¯t right.

    But then again, how do you decide what is ¡®right?¡¯

    Everyone has their own set of morals and ideas, so how is it possible to pinpoint one, absolute ¡®perfection?¡¯

    Simple, you can¡¯t.

    If only it was easy to make everyone understand. Unfortunately, even a world of wonders doesn¡¯t work like that. If not for those that set precedents that others try their damndest to match, then we have ourselves to blame.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    When we look at ourselves, do our ¡®faults¡¯ not stand out in contrast to every little bit that makes us the person we are? The things we wished were different, the aspects we want to morph, the traits and habits that we resent ourselves for having, those qualities that we deem undesirable¡­ How differently they¡¯re weighed by the individual.

    When you look at these ¡®faults,¡¯ do you see the road leading up to them or those they guided you towards? How differently would your life be if this one thing ceased to be a part of you? If this one, small bit simply vanished, would you even be the same person?

    Then again, there are those that would gladly be someone else for personal reasons. How curious a case, to become someone completely different¡­

    Nevertheless, how would you face these self-titled ¡®faults?¡±

    Would you lock them away and deny their existence because it¡¯s simply easier?

    Would you let them overwhelm you, letting yourself become someone you never wanted to be?

    Would you fight against them and struggle for something pointless just because you can¡¯t find a better solution?

    Would you let them grow, becoming so afraid of them that you let them speak for you?

    Everyone deals with these problems in their own ways, but this isn¡¯t a tale about just anybody. This is a story about four, unprepared youths that find themselves tied to one another. A tale of happy endings or broken hearts, that is yet to be decided. Whatever the outcome, the choices rely on these four. How they manage the difficulties that lie before them and those they carry¡­ well¡­ what would be the point in letting you know now when there is so much to tell.

    So let us begin this tale¡­

 Chapter 1: Talon

    ¡°Brighter! Stronger! These puny flames aren¡¯t enough!¡± Pyrite¡¯s voice boomed throughout the chamber. ¡°Is this all you sheddings can do? What a pathetic display!¡±

    I rolled my eyes as the old soldier continued on with his ramblings. When I first started training, his insults would make me shake so hard that my embers would scatter. After years of the same old barks, Pyrite¡¯s taunts have lost their impact. Now it was simple to tune him out while rolling the ball of flames along my fingertips. As Pyrite droned on, the ball continued to pass slowly from each finger on my right hand to the next. After a few seconds, the ball sped up and began to stretch. Now it covered two fingers at once, then three, until the swirling flames encased my entire hand.

    Easy enough. Time to push a little harder.

    I held my hand underneath my chin and closed my eyes. I willed the flames to shift and felt the heat follow accordingly. The growing blaze stretched towards my right side, not quite touching me, and wrapped around my back until it connected with my palm once more. I relaxed my hand, causing two more strands to form another pair of rings. I withdrew my hands as the rings began to spin, making me see blurs from against my eyelids. With a sigh, I drew my left hand across the air in front of me. The rings hovered higher, above my head, before collapsing into a single, searing ring. I closed my fist, then opened it again. The new rings shrunk immediately and descended into my palm. I opened my eyes to a ball of flames spinning several times faster than when it had begun, casting a glow that plastered my shadow onto the wall behind me. With a flick, the fireball exploded into a cloud of cinders that fell and died around my feet.

    ¡°Now that was a prime example of what I should be seeing!¡± Pyrite bellowed. ¡°Excellent, Talon! A perfect showing of today¡¯s warmup!¡± There was a mumbling of mixed admiration, exasperation, and bitterness throughout the training chamber at Pyrite¡¯s words. The teacher turned his back on me and continued pacing the room as others tried to complete the exercise.

    I felt a sharp pain on the back of my knee that faded as quickly as it came. ¡°Quit showin¡¯ off, would ya? You¡¯re makin¡¯ me look bad,¡± said an ever so familiar voice to my right. ¡°It¡¯s only the first day, bigshot.¡±

    I gave a smirk at his complaints. ¡°Then I guess you should just catch up,¡± I said with a heavy amount of fake wisdom.

    Beryll gave a snort and returned to his own fireball. ¡°Sure, you say that like it¡¯s soooo easy! Keep up with the best student in the class; be on par with a sure candidate for the Forged-Scales. Why not? It seems simple enough. Not at aaaallllllllllll difficult in aaaaaannnnnyyyyyyyyy sort of way. Nope. Not one bit.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t help but laugh a little at him. Beryll always had a way to bring out my humor. No matter what situation we were in, Beryll could always find a way to make me laugh. He may not be the strongest or smartest, but he was irreplaceable and I would have him around rather than any other Dragonic student.

    ¡°Seriously, though, ever thought about slowin¡¯ down a little, or at least at the beginnin¡¯? Keep this up, and ol¡¯ Pyrite will have ya showin¡¯ off every mornin¡¯ by the end of the month. Don¡¯t ya worry about burnin¡¯ out so soon?¡±

    I thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. ¡°Nope, not worried whatsoever,¡± I replied.

    Beryll produced a cross between a snort and a sigh as he began to form his first ring. His flames were closer in color to him than mine; warm orange reflecting off the pale orange scales on his forearm. ¡°Can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised.¡± Sparks flew off his ring as the other two began to form. Beryll drew quiet as he struggled with the practice.

    My wings ruffled as more sparks leaped from his flames. This kind of exercise was not Beryll¡¯s forte. He preferred a short, powerful burst of flames, so drawn out ones like these were much more difficult. By the time his third ring was complete, showers of sparks were issuing from almost every ember of flames, concealing anything below his shoulders. Sweat was beginning to appear along his brow. He gave a quick flick of his wrist. The rings zipped upwards, collapsed, and fell in one, rushed motion. Even the fireball was spewing sparks as it rested in his hand. Beryll met my eyes as footsteps began stomping over to us. He rolled his eyes as Pyrite came within centimeters of Beryll¡¯s outstretched palm.

    A growl tore up from the teacher¡¯s throat as he glared at Beryll, who was nonplussed. ¡°What was that cruddy display?¡± Pyrite barked. ¡°Have you so little control of your own flames? So many sparks made by someone supposedly in the Scorch! Did you get lost on your way here? Are you perhaps some low Ignitor that wandered in here by mistake?¡±

    Beryll looked himself over with played curiosity before replying in an innocent tone, ¡°Don¡¯t believe so.¡±

    Pyrite stepped closer, sparks catching on his clothing. ¡°What was that?¡±

    Beryll tilted his head, maybe to conceal his struggle to hide his smile, as he replied, ¡°I believe I¡¯m in the right year, considerin¡¯ that these have been my classmates for the past whatever so years, my age fits, and the fact that I passed my tests for last year. Sooooooooo, yeah, I¡¯m in the right class.¡±

    Scarlet raced up Pyrite¡¯s neck and into his face as more mixed mutterings of humor and annoyance began from the remaining students. I was halfway between laughing and anxiety. Beryll was already off to a bad start. He just had to choose the worst possible teacher to piss off right from the start. I sighed.

    That¡¯s Beryll.

    ¡°A puny, insolent, arrogant brat like you should at least have the common sense to show even the smallest shred of respect towards his elders.¡±

    ¡°Oh right. Augh hem.¡± Beryll cleared his throat. ¡°I¡¯m in the right class, sir.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t resist letting a small chuckle get the better of me. Thankfully (and unfortunately) Pyrite¡¯s full attention was still on Beryll. The rest of the students had already let their flames simmer away as the two stared each other down. Pyrite towered over Beryll, but my friend didn¡¯t seem faltered in the slightest.

    ¡°Extinguish that miserable flame this instant,¡± Pyrite commanded through clenched teeth.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    A mischievous glint flashed in Beryll¡¯s eyes. ¡°Of course, sir. Right away.¡± Beryll started to move his hand upwards.

    Oh crap! Not this again!

    I flicked my tail against his heel as discreetly as I could. Beryll froze for a second, then he tipped his hand and the flames spilled out as cinders towards the stone floor. Pyrite gave a stiff nod before he walked away. Beryll let his hand fall, gave a huff, and mumbled, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of my friend being thrown out on the first day. At least make it through the first week.¡±

    Beryll thought for a moment. ¡°Can I at least get a warnin¡¯? Maybe detention?¡±

    ¡°Like I could stop you.¡±

    Beryll smiled broadly as a bell rang throughout the cavern. Pyrite unfurled his wings and shouted, ¡°That¡¯s it for today! You all have ten minutes to reach your next class! Everyone better be on their best behavior!¡± His gaze landed on Beryll, who gave a small wave.

    As we began to shuffle down the tunnel, Beryll nudged me and said, ¡°I don¡¯t see what the problem is. That was my best behavior. What more is he askin¡¯ for?¡± I finally started laughing, causing Beryll to smile even wider.

    We made our way into another chamber that was much larger than the one we were just in. Dozens of tunnels branched off deeper into the mountain. The ceiling soared upwards until it opened to a clear sky. Balconies wrapped around the walls of the cavern, with even more tunnels peppered along them. Hundreds of Dragonics, most of them students, were moving within the chamber: flying between balconies, running to and from the ground tunnels, catching up with friends before heading to class.

    ¡°What class do we have next?¡± Beryll asked.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see,¡± I pulled a sheet of paper from one of the sacks on my belt. On it was the list of classes I had throughout the day. ¡°Next is flying maneuvers with Carbonclaw.¡± Beryll and I had the same classes, except for the last two.

    Groaning, Beryll unfurled his wings and stretched them as wide as he could. Bones and muscles and scales stronger than any other on his body protruded from below his shoulders and, now fully exposed, reached out several feet on either side of him. Smaller extensions hung from the first, with a membrane of skin running along the entire structure. Sunlight reflected of Beryll¡¯s orange scales as he flapped his wings a few times. ¡°At least we¡¯ll be movin¡¯ in this class. Come on!.¡± I nodded, spreading my own wings, and the two of us took off through the opening in the ceiling.

    The breeze was calm today as we made our way to the edge of the school. Dragonics sunning themselves on the top of the rocky terrain waved as we passed above them. Some Kindling students were chasing each other around on a stretch of flat stone, some leaping and failing to fly on underdeveloped wings.

    Beryll and I landed on a flat stretch of land with well-kept grass that poked at the bottom of my feet. A handful of other students had already arrived, and several more were on their way. The teacher, Carbonclaw, was flying around the training grounds as she watched for the remaining students. Beryll and I sat down as we waited for class to begin.

    <hr>

    One after another, we trailed from class to class as the day wore on. When it came to history and math, Beryll kept yawning and stubbornly distracting himself as the teachers droned on. Eventually, the final two classes loomed ahead. Beryll and I parted ways as our schedules finally diverged. Alone, I walked down the tunnel that leads into the deepest depths of Meltingpot. There weren¡¯t any windows cut into the stone this far in; instead, torches rested in alcoves along the walls. The tunnel opened into yet another chamber, but this one was much smaller than the entrance chambers. The ceiling was about fifteen feet up and over a hundred feet wide and long. It stretched onwards before ending at shelves and chests that contained a plethora of items, weapons, and other materials. Racks holding weapons, ranging from swords to maces to bows, were evenly spaced along the walls.

    I was the first to arrive, so I sat in the corner to the left of the entrance. By the time the bell rang throughout the school, the rest of the students had shown up. It was a much smaller class compared to the rest I¡¯ve had today; there were about twenty students in total. These were the best, the smartest, the strongest, the ones aiming for the top. And yes, that included me, I guess.

    I snapped out of my thoughts as a figure larger than any of the students strode the entrance, followed by three more, smaller Dragonics. Bringing up the back was a female Dragonic with dark skin around her face; dull gold scales along her forearms, neck, wings, tail, and legs; a shallow shirt that stopped just below her navel and left her upper back exposed (a common trend among Dragonics due to the obvious fact that we need to leave our wings unrestrained); and a large, alabaster tooth hanging from a wire around her neck. She appeared to be the youngest, maybe a few years out of school. She stifled a yawn and shook long, auburn hair out of her eyes.

    The next two were more of what I was expecting: both of them were males, around their forties or so; one had dark red scales with tanned skin, while the other¡¯s forest green scales stood out against his pale complexion; each wore an open back tunic that was tuck under their belts; wore thick pants with their legs over heavy soled boots; with both of them having stony expressions.

    It was the Dragonic in front that was the most noteworthy. Upon his entrance, every student kept their eyes trained on him. Scarlet scales underlaid with copper flickered with the torches. He spread his wings, seeming to fill the chamber as he did so. His sable hair was trimmed short, just long enough to start to fall under its own weight. Boots strode unhurriedly across the floor, the sound of footsteps uninterrupted except for the crackle of flames. He reached the middle of the chamber before turning around to face us. His face, as best as I can describe, effortlessly demanded respect with the smallest glance.

    He opened his mouth to introduce himself, but it was a moot point. Everyone here, every student, knew who he was. If you attended Meltingpot, you knew him.

    ¡°My name is Scorchwing, as you may know, and this is the first class for those who wish to one day reach the Forged-Scales. You are allowed to take these classes because you were deemed to have the potential to make it to the top of the Dragonics. However, you have only been granted a starting point. These classes have one purpose and one purpose only: to prepare you for the trials you¡¯ll face in the future. Nothing in these classes are guaranteed: some of you may pass, some of you may fail, others might give up halfway through and drop down into the regular curriculum. If that¡¯s the case, then you do not have what it takes to reach the Forged-Scales.

    ¡°Each teacher here will assess each one of you, and they will guide and push towards your own improvement. The first class will consist of an overall honing of your abilities. We will alternate between controlling fire, weapons, flight, exercise, and any other field throughout the duration of the course. The second class shall focus on individual students. During that time, we will separate the students between each of us teachers in order to help those students in a certain field with more specific instructions.¡±

    He shook out his wings, burst of flames erupting from his scales for a second, illuminating every crag of the chamber, before surrounding him in a cloud of embers. ¡°This is only the start of a very long, tedious journey. You will face many difficulties in many forms, but if you manage to persevere until the end, then you achieve a goal only a few could ever reach. It is our job to get you started, but only if you have the strength to see it through. It is my hope that those who make it through this course will achieve the title of Forged-Scale after graduation. With that, I believe I have said everything I needed to say. Let the first class begin!¡±

    The students cheered and applauded as Scorchwing ended his speech. I joined in on the applause, but I couldn¡¯t show all my enthusiasm. A nagging feeling pulled at the corner of my mind, nurturing doubts that I¡¯ve pushed away time and time again. This is where I¡¯m supposed to be. This is what I need to do. I will complete these classes, pass the trials, and come out as a Forged-Scale. It¡¯s what I¡¯ve been preparing for my whole life. It¡¯s what I have to do.

    Then why does it feel wrong?

 Chapter 2: Lilyweaver

    Do you ever feel like you¡¯re having one of those days where everything just pushes you a little closer to throwing something at a wall? Where you just want to scream until your throat can¡¯t scream anymore? Where just the slightest jolt will send you into a rage where you take the crap from your day and start shoving it down someone else¡¯s throat?

    Too far? Oh well, you get the point, at least.

    At the moment, I was lugging my ass out of a dead night shift, following a crowd of drunk costumes who my manager had just thrown out. This in itself was fine, the usual. I¡¯ve been getting used to working nights and sleeping during the day like a bat (I kinda like that comparison, actually). Nothing extreme had happened: waited on Naiads that were out late for their own reasons that I don¡¯t care about, manage the bar while Cobalt used the bathroom (she returns the favor when she can, so it¡¯s a fair trade), washed the dishes, helped Snapper throw out some aforementioned drunks, plaster a smile on my face to earn a tip or two, and luckily avoided any vomiting incidents. All in all, it was a decent evening, until those rat bastards decided to show up!

    A group of over a dozen came stumbling into the tavern last minute, while I was literally preparing to trade off shifts. Then, they order the messiest shit that we serve, about six different drinks each, and then they have the fucking nerve to whistle and make some obscene suggestion every time I walked by! By the time I managed to leave, I was so tired that I considered just collapsing on the side of the road.

    Now, take all that into consideration when you hear this next little bit. While passing a couple of these drunks fucks, one has the stones to cut me off while his buddies stood nearby. He reeked of one of our cheapest brands of liquor, whether it was on his breath or sloshed down his front I¡¯ll leave for you to decide.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t you sha pwetty little doll,¡± He slurred, stumbling as he stood in one spot. ¡°You heada home, sweetheart?¡±

    Great, one of these again. ¡°I am, in fact,¡± I give myself a few points for not just knocking the guy aside the first second, because, ya know, I had a little good spirit remaining somehow.

    ¡°Howa ¡®bout that, so em I,¡± A blush coated his weak, blue-tinted skin to a rather pathetic purple. ¡°Howa ¡®bout you join me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pass,¡± I pushed past my straining teeth.

    ¡°Come on,¡± He pleaded. ¡°If ya want, wona my buddies can join us, or two, if ya prefer.¡± Said buddies made dizzied chuckling noises and moved a little closer.

    Fucking disgusting. What kind of messed up shit do these bastards get a kick from? Actually, I don¡¯t want to know. ¡°Again, I¡¯ll pass.¡± I stepped around him, done with this shit.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that,¡± He purred. ¡°I bet I could convince ya~¡± At this, I felt a hand grab my ass.

    If you haven¡¯t caught on by now, I don¡¯t take shit like that too kindly.

    I pivoted on my foot, grabbed his wrist, pulled, and grabbed him by his tiny neck as he fell forward. I got within an inch of his nose, ignoring his stench of liquor. ¡°Listen here, you little bitch. I have put up with too much shit tonight for my night to end with some drunk, dumbass pig grab any part of me. So if you make one more move, I¡¯m to take you fucks and rip off your-¡±

    For certain reasons, I have to skip over the next twenty seconds.

    ¡°-until they could be pulled out of your mouth, you damn motherfucker! Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?¡± He nodded his skin a paler shade of baby blue. ¡°Good.¡± I released him, and he dropped like a stone. I turned and proceeded back to my home, until I heard heavy footsteps charging at me. Fucking great! I¡¯ve had enough of this!

    I bent my knees and threw my elbow back and up, catching the throat of the guy trying to tackle me. He made a choked gasp and fell to his knees, clutching his throat.

    The next was almost on me, but his movements were slowed due to his inebriation. I stepped aside, and he stumbled past. A quick kick to the back of his knees, pivot, and a well-placed backhand to his ear was enough for him to go down. Easy enough.

    The last two, including the ass grabber, came at me as a pair. The buddy threw a clumsy punch. I parried at his wrist and drove my fist into his gut. The lug doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the street. The grabber got a hold of my sleeve, pulling it down my shoulder and making me fall backward. I slammed my arm against the side of his head, pulling him down so that he would fall below me. I fell on top of him, driving my elbow into his throat as we landed. Like the first assailant, he gurgled and went still.

    I got up, shook out my clothes, and gave the grabber a swift quick in the gut so he ended up puking as well. Boiling, I pulled my sleeve back into place as I heard a rustle from an alleyway. I glanced over, but nobody as in sight. I sighed and walked on, leaving the drunks on the ground.

    Great, somebody was watching. No need to help, you fucking cowards! I didn¡¯t need it anyway, but just standing by and watching! Fucker! And they must have seen it! Well, add that pile to the ever-growing pile of shit that is the last few hours. Working overtime on the night shift, running across grabby creeps, and someone getting a peep at my shoulder is not exactly what I would deem an ideal evening!

    I came to a pier overlooking a lake. I didn¡¯t see much else as I walked straight off and landed in the cool water. I couldn''t focus, so I just sunk until my feet touched the silt along the bottom. I marched across, my frustrated stomps sending up clouds behind me. Small schools of fish streaked by, and at one point, a creature with a few tentacles and flippers sticking it out of what I believe was its head. Weeds and other vegetation bloomed into forests, which I walked straight through.

    Eventually, I felt the ground under my feet begin to slant upwards. Slowly, I continued upwards until my head broke the surface. Once I reached land, I flicked my wrist, causing the water to fly away from my body and leaving me dry. The city continued immediately from where it ended on the other as if the lake was nothing more than a hole in the road.

    Now I noticed that dawn was seeping over the horizon. My trek through the lake had taken me longer than I thought. Well, shit. If my head was on straight, I could have just zipped right over the water, but no, I just had to be so pissed that I couldn¡¯t concentrate, so I had to walk! Ugh! Whatever! Doesn¡¯t matter now. Those fuckers are gone, so I should just forget about it for now.

    A puddle in my path suddenly burst into a shower of droplets and mud.

    Yeah, I¡¯m still pissed.

    I passed shops and homes throwing open their windows to greet the rising sun. Meanwhile, I¡¯ll be closing my curtains to get some sleep. Woohoo. A couple and their three kids were bustling out of a bakery with boxes of goods in their arms. The baker must have been up as early as I was to be ready at this time. I strode past the window, taking a survey of the pastries in the windows. Huh. A lot of these come from the other tribes. How many places did he have to visit to learn how to make all of these? Maybe I¡¯ll come by later to try-If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    What I saw made me stop so fast that I stumbled. There, sitting on the baker¡¯s counter, was the most delicious dessert ever to grace the land: Spew Algae Pod Puffs. The instant my eyes landed on them, my mouth started watering. My feet carried me through the door of their own volition. A bell chimed as I entered, alerting an older, male Naiad behind the counter, his hair coated with a fine dusting of flour. He wore an apron bearing different smears of cream and batter. He gave me a jovial smile as I approached.

    ¡°Hello there!¡± He said in a friendly greeting. ¡°How may I help you today, young lady?¡±

    I reached the counter and moved my hand towards the basket of pastries I was after. ¡°Are these really Algae Puffs, as in Spew Algae Pod Puffs?¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°Why, yes they are! I¡¯m surprised that you even know them by their full name.¡± He picked one up and held it up in the faint sunlight. The puff was a perfectly spherical ball of dough, excluding the flattened bottom, with a topping of light green cream that held small, juniper hued orbs. ¡°These have never been popular among my customers, but my nephew and I are quite fond of them, so I always make a fresh batch in the morning. Can I take it that you''re a fan as well?¡±

    I nodded, staring at the puff in his hand hungrily. I felt a dribble of drool slid down my chin. Crap! I shook myself out of my stupor and wiped my hand across my face. Salvaging the rest of my dignity, I replied, ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re my favorite. I¡¯ve never really had a hand in the kitchen, and hardly anyone likes them, so they¡¯re hard to come across.¡±

    ¡°I have to agree, and we usually make to many so we end up with quite a few leftovers after we¡¯ve had our fill,¡± He replaced the puff in the basket and pulled a paper sack from behind the counter. ¡°How many would you like?

    I checked the price tag dangling from the handle. 2 rue apiece! Holy fuck, my day just got a whole lot better! I could do with one or two¡­

    ¡°Eight, please!¡±

    I¡¯m weak.

    The baker chuckled again. ¡°Of course.¡± He began placing the puffs in a bag while I rifled through a pouch on my belt for the coins. I dug out sixteen rue and placed them on the counter. I took the bag from the baker as he swept the coins into a box and out of sight. ¡°Please have a seat, if you care to enjoy the morning.¡± He pointed to an open door to his left that leads out onto a patio with a few tables and chairs facing the rising sun.

    ¡°I should really be getting home.¡±

    ¡°A purchase of at least half a dozen comes with a complimentary cup of Tangler-Wrangler tea as long as it¡¯s a sit-down order.¡±

    ¡°A few minutes couldn¡¯t hurt.¡± What can I say, Tangler-Wrangler tea is another one of my favorites. The baker told me he¡¯d bring it out as soon as the tea was ready. I walked onto the patio, found a table in the far corner and took a seat. With excited fingers, I withdrew a puff and took a bite.

    There are two main reasons for the Spew Algae Pod Puff¡¯s lack of popularity. The first is the pods. The main ingredient in these puffs is Spew Pods, a type of algae that bursts like an over-inflated ball and splatters goop on anything within a three-foot radius. To get around this, you have to be careful to not burst any of the pods when you bite into the pastry. Saliva counteracts the pods¡¯ spewing, so they become perfectly safe to eat when they¡¯re in your mouth.

    The second cause is their flavor; Spew Algae Pod Puffs are incomprehensibly bitter. As in you take a lime, squeeze the juice directly into your mouth, chomp down on the vegetables any child tries their best to avoid, and then multiply that about five times. That¡¯s about the best description any normal person could come up with to accurately describe these puffs (An exaggeration, I know, but it paints a picture). At least, that¡¯s what people tell me; I don¡¯t see it. I love the way they taste and can¡¯t get enough of it!

    Either way, you can¡¯t rush through a puff without carefully deconstructing it with every bite. I could spend hours just eating away, enjoying the feeling of rolling the pods against the roof of my mouth.

    ¡°Here you go, miss,¡± said the baker¡¯s voice as he set down a steaming cup of Tangler-Wrangler tea (also known as one of, if not the most, bitter type of tea). I noticed he had a second cup and a bag of his own in his other hand. ¡°Business is rather slow this time of day, so I hope you don¡¯t mind if I join you?¡±

    ¡°Swur,¡± I replied through a stuffed mouth. ¡°Takw wa seet.¡±

    He did just that, groaning a little as lowered himself into the chair. ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ve been up since the moon was out preparing to open the shop.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you mention a nephew earlier?¡± I asked. ¡°Does he work here, or do you at least have someone else working here to help you?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, he¡¯s actually up before I am to get everything started,¡± I detected a note of pride as he said this. ¡°He¡¯s actually out on an errand for me right now. He¡¯s a big help, but with school starting up again, it¡¯ll be just me throughout the day. He¡¯ll do everything he can to help, but I can¡¯t keep up.¡± He looked at me and must have seen something in my expression. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s enough ramblings from me. Someone your age that¡¯s out this early must have a story of their own. Care to share?¡±

    I felt bad for him, but I didn¡¯t know how to help. Plus, going off of experience, if someone wants to change the subject like that, it would just upset him if I pushed on. ¡°Not much to tell; I just came from my own job.¡±

    ¡°¡®Just came from?¡¯¡± He repeated. ¡°My, you must have had started earlier than my nephew or I did. Where do you work exactly?¡±

    ¡°Deep Crawler Tavern.¡±

    ¡°The Deep Crawler?¡± Now his face showed concern mixed with his curiosity. ¡°That place is a beacon for riff-raff and drunks! Why would someone your age take a job at a place like that?¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°I needed money, they had a position, here we are. It¡¯s not bad if you know how to take care of yourself.¡±

    ¡°Despite that, you can¡¯t even be old enough to work there! Are you even nineteen yet?¡±

    ¡°Sixteen,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Snapper was having trouble finding a replacement for their last waitress, so he believed it when I faked my age.¡± Lines edged deeper into the baker¡¯s face as he listened. ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. It¡¯s a job like any other, so there¡¯s nothing to worry about.¡± I took a sip of tea to have an excuse not to meet his eyes. Thinking ahead, I took a longer swing and drained over half the cup.

    ¡°Still, there have to be other options,¡± The baker kept pushing. ¡°Why would your parents let you take such a job?¡±

    ¡®Shut your mouth!¡¯

    ¡®I don¡¯t give a shit for your opinion!¡¯

    ¡®Get the hell out of this house!¡¯

    ¡°They aren¡¯t really that concerned,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°They know I can handle myself.¡± That was sort of the truth.

    The baker couldn¡¯t seem to comprehend what I had said. He passed a puff from one hand to the other, still being careful not to set off the algae¡¯s natural defense. ¡°Little miss, that is just not a suitable place for someone like yourself. Your parents should know that. You should talk to them about-¡±

    ¡°I should go now.¡± Rising from my chair, the remnants of the first puff vanished down my throat, with a wave of the remaining tea, in one, painful gulp. I began to walk away, reaching the patio railing before hesitating. ¡°Thank you for the puffs.¡± I swung my legs over the railing and dropped into the alley. I strode off without a backward glance.

    I heard the rustling of a cloak. I thought I saw the edge of a cloth disappear around the corner into the street. When I stepped out, no one was there. I disregarded this and just started on my way back.

    My shit is none of his concern, so why the fuck did he keep poke, poke, poking away? Ugh, I¡¯ve had enough of this! I should have just gone home in the first place! I know I¡¯m still upset from earlier, but my head was pounding now. I¡¯m so done with all this shit today. I moved the bag of puffs onto my shoulder. I¡¯ll finish these later. If I eat them now, I¡¯ll end up busting a pod.

    Thankfully, the streets were still relatively empty this early. I barely had to see anyone else as I neared the inn I had been staying at for the last couple months. I wasn¡¯t in the mood to pass the crusty owner, so I took the entrance behind the building. The molding staircase rattled as I climbed up to my door on the third floor. I took out my key, unlocked the door, and home sweet home.

    A cot in the corner was underneath a discolored window. A cabinet was cramped next to the cot, one of the doors dangling from a single hinge. Underneath the cot was a sack in which I had stuffed all the belongings I don¡¯t carry with me on a regular basis.

    That¡¯s it. This is my current home. Oh, the floor and walls are wooden. Now I¡¯m done.

    I flopped onto the mattress, groaning since I forgot to buy a blanket. Reaching up, I pulled the ratted rag that I called a curtain over the window. I took off my belt and let it drop to the floor with a thud. I turned onto my stomach, crossed my arms under my head, and eventually sunk into a thin slumber as sunlight streamed through the holes in the curtain.

 Chapter 3: Kestrel

    The wind howled in my ears as I dove at the forest below. The trees raced towards me, branches stretching to grab me. Closer, closer, closer. Yards, feet, inches. Finally, I spread my wings and pulled up, running a hand through the treetops as I skidded over them. Birds evacuated their nests with alarmed chirps as I shot by faster than any arrow. I flapped my wings and rocketed upwards. Once I got high enough, I flipped, folded my wings, and plunged through the treeline. Newly grown branches broke away from my worn path as I fell. After a few seconds, my vision flashes blue right before I splashed into a pond in the middle of the forest.

    I sunk fast, but my descent stopped almost instantly. I glimpsed bits of fish and plants before my body remembered that I needed to breathe. I whirled around and swam to the surface. I broke through and filled my lungs with air. Excitement bubbled up inside me, erupting out of my mouth as a wild holler. I idled in the water for a few minutes, letting the adrenaline settle in my veins. Once my blood cooled, I struck out for the shore. I pulled myself up onto land and shook my entire body, droplets landing on the long grass. I exposed my wings to the sun and laid on my stomach, letting the rays dry them as my feathers sucked in the warmth.

    A rustling of leaves made me look up. Another Harpy emerged from the branches, much slower than I had. Her feathers were light brown and speckled with white, running up her arms, down her neck, and longer ones grew from the top of her head. Wings covered with the same feathers began to close as she landed, but each one had intertwined streaks of black and navy running from their tips to their base between her shoulder blades. Her eyes were a deep brown, with her worry on full display.

    "Kestrel!" She called. "Where are you?"

    I flapped one of my wings. "Over here!"

    Wren spotted me and ran over. When she neared the pond, she sat down, catching her breath. "Quit flying ahead like that! You know I can''t keep up when you fly so crazy!"

    I rolled my eyes. "Come on, you just won''t copy me! You could at the very least be close behind me if you just did what I did."

    "The last time I ¡®copied¡¯ you, my wing ended up out of its socket!" She crossed her arms as the color rose to her cheeks. "Besides, mom warned you to stop being so reckless. You''ll end up hurting yourself again."

    "Oh please! When have I ever hurt myself?"

    Wren held up her hand. "You broke your arm while trying to fly when you were three years old, twisted your ankle when you were nine, had an eyepatch for two months when you decided to ¡®play'' with a Prickler," She put up a finger for every incident she listed off. "Sprained your wrist trying to catch yourself when you got tangled up in a net, had to get thirty stitches after an extremely overzealous sparring match with Shikra, broke your leg while attempting one of your landing stunts, was knocked unconscious when you literally flew head first into a tree, almost drowned while canoeing, shot yourself in the foot with an arrow, got yourself stuck in a wall when you crashed into Magpie''s house, and now I''m out of fingers."

    "What''s your point?"

    Sighing with defeat, Wren sunk even lower, her shoulder drooping. "Can we just get home before mom starts to worry?"

    Why does she have those pleading eyes when she begs like that? It¡¯s not fair! It¡¯s like trying to say no to a tiny rabbit!

    Relenting, I nodded, and we both stood up. "And no wild stunts!" Wren warned. I shrugged and took off. I heard my sister follow me if maybe a little reluctant.

    It took us about twelve minutes to reach the heart of the Harpy tribe: Canopy. Uninspired I know, but it''s actually shortened down. The full name is Canopy of Haven''s Pensile. It was awkward to say in passing and other informal settings, so we use Canopy in everyday conversations.

    From the sky, you could spot some of the visitor buildings and other facilities, such as the messenger bird stations and roosts. From the ground, a handful of stations for the visiting, flightless tribes served as a base for communications, or even a starting point for a series of ladders if the visitors needed to reach the actual city. The grandest sight, however, was underneath the treetops. Canopy is a series of treehouses with bridges and ropes interconnecting them to one another. The second uppermost level held the workplaces for the Harpies that cared for the messaging birds, communicated with other tribes, or had other jobs that I can''t remember. Below that, you could find the houses that the Harpies actually live in. They came in a variety of shapes and sizes: some were large and looked like a typical building from any other tribe, some were round and stout, some were missing walls so that anyone could fly into a specific room, some lacked ceilings, others had balconies wrapped around them for landing spots, but none were identical.

    Another aspect of the living level was flowers. They came in as many varieties as there were homes, and they brightened the city by combating the common green and brown. As we descended, I spotted one balcony garden that had orange petals that looked like a puffball and dozens of small, periwinkle blossoms surrounding each one. And they weren''t just in gardens; the flowers were grown straight onto the houses! It was incredible how some of the families get creative when decorating with the flowers.

    Anyway, moving on! Below this level was the heart of the Canopy. Built around a massive trunk and spanning across dozens of trees was the Nest. Here, the leaders of the Harpies, the Wise Trio, make the important decisions that impact the Harpy tribe. They hold meetings, send runners to the messengers, pass laws, meet with advisors, house representatives from other tribes, give student tours, and a bunch of other stuff that I can''t list in one go! The only other thing on this level was the medic center, which was equally important. It was almost as big, but it was kinda curved to look like a crescent moon. I don''t know why, but it looks pretty cool, I swear!

    Below them was the school, farms, etc., but we''re not going to them right now. Wren and I touched down on one of the landing balconies encircling the Nest. A few runners bustled past us with sacks containing notes for the messengers, but we walked past them. We walked across a rope bridge leading to a dome-shaped building around the edge of the Nest. The roof was hidden beneath bunches of white and purple petals. I heard voices inside; their owners seemed to be arguing. Wren grabbed my arm, but I smiled and slipped out of her grasp. I grabbed the doorknob and sprang inside.

    "We''re back~" I sang.

    The two who were arguing stopped as they faced us. One was a male Harpy about eight years older than me. His feathers shone in hues of blues and white and black that shimmered like light off jewels. He has a strong, defined, sturdy build that I knew he was proud of (he spent years keeping it up, you know; he was quite pudgy when he was my age). An open back shirt hung loosely off his shoulders. His pants were also sagging but were held up by a lazily looped piece of rope. His feet were bare, which wasn''t unusual. A ringlet of petite, copper colored flowers was fit snugly on his left wrist.

    The person he had been arguing was a female Harpy in her late forties. Her dress was navy with lavender waves around the trim, and, like almost every Harpy garment, was backless (for the obvious reasons). Her wings were settling down from when they flared open like they usually do when she gets drawn into a debate. Her feathers, unlike the male''s, were a humble gray, but the edges of her wings had patches of orange. A necklace of thin, silver cords hung from her neck. Her feet had sandals on them, but I knew she would kick them off immediately after she got home.

    The male''s name is Cyane, and the female is Robin. Meet my brother and mother!

    The room was a mess of papers; every surface was buried underneath a wave of documents. It had been like this almost the day after Cyane had made the announcement. This building, which used to be one of my mother''s spare offices, had been transformed into a hub of planning and decisions. A dozen pots of flower sample sat on the table that used to bare figurines of animals. Patches of cloth hung from pins on the back wall. There were even boxes, which I guess held cakes, on the desk where my mom would usually work.

    My mom had given Cyane permission to use the office so that he could prepare, but she was here to ¡®assist'' as much as possible. These two drove each other nuts, but in a good way. Wren didn''t understand what a good screaming match is, but I know one when I hear it.

    "Is it the setting, date, or food?" I chimed. Wren shuffled into a corner to stand next to the flower samples, acting as if she could blend in with her surroundings.

    "Setting," Cyane grumbled. He put one hand on his hip and ran the other through the messy, rumbled feathers on his head. "We had thought about having it at the cliff with the waterfall, but this lunatic said that was a terrible idea."

    "Well, it is!" She said bluntly. "Can you imagine the noise? You wouldn''t even be able to hear your vows to each other! Plus, I don''t think that the spray would make anyone happy."

    Cyane turned back to our mother, his hand that had been in his hair now waving slowly in the open air. "But it''s a spot that''s important to us; that''s where we had our first kiss. And it''s better than the meadow that you recommended."

    "How was I supposed to know that all the flowers would enter hibernation in the middle of spring? Excuse me that I didn''t know that they were the rare Frostleaf Blossoms that bloom only in winter!"

    I chuckled as their voices started to rise again. It''s nice that they have something in common. "What does Callum think?"

    Cyane sighed. "He likes the waterfall, but," My brother took a moment to think. "He did mention the lakeside in Wake."Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Robin gave a gasp and rubbed the back of her head. "The lake in Wake!" I chuckled as she rhymed. "Of course! It''s absolutely stunning! Oh, I do have a friend there that can make a delicious cake!"

    Cyane smiled to himself as he was lost in thought. "Yeah, that place is important, too."

    "What did you guys do there?" I asked innocently.

    Cyane sighed. "That''s where we first-" He cut off mid-sentence, his expression now startled.

    "Where you what?" I continued asking, but already having a good idea.

    "Nothing," He mumbled, his face turning a bright shade of vermillion. I laughed as he turned away, embarrassed.

    My mother hadn''t heard any of this, thankfully. She was pulling a folder off one of the shelves crowded with lists of possible destinations. Upon finding the one she was looking for, she asked Cyane, "So it''s agreed? You''re having the wedding in Wake?"

    "I''ll talk to Callum about it, but it''s at the top of my list now."

    "Alright." She handed the folder to Cyane. "These are some of the connections I have there. You two should look over them before making your final decision." She turned around, shuffling through the cakes on her desk. "I guess I won''t need these anymore. I''ll give them to someone else. What are you still doing here?" She shouted when she turned back and found Cyane still standing in the office. "Get going!"

    "Calm down, I''m going!" Cyane began to head towards the door. I started to follow, stopped, ran to snatch a box off the desk, and then followed him out. Cyane had just taken flight and I caught up pretty quickly.

    "Mind if I join you?" I asked.

    Cyane gave a short laugh. "Like I could stop you. Just don''t break anything."

    "You know I can''t promise that."

    We climbed higher until we reached the residential level. I let Cyane lead the way to the familiar home that he shared with his fianc¨¦. It was one that looked like an everyday home: a wraparound balcony, hanging gardens, three stories, three walls with the back one being the trunk of the tree supporting it, and the flowers in shades of blue and white and black (courtesy of Callum for his lover. Ugh, why¡¯d I use that word? I just mentally gagged).

    Tending to one of the gardens was Callum himself. Callum''s feathers were pale gray with scattered patches of peaches and cream on his forearms, and partial rings of black on his wings. The feathers on his head were settled, a contrast to Cyane''s messy mop. Like Cyane, however, Callum was wearing only a loose shirt and pants, but he didn''t need his pants to be held up with a rope. Come to think of it, Callum was probably the one to wrap that around to keep Cyane''s pants up, since Cyane would put on whatever he found and be out the door without a second thought.

    He rose from the pot and smiled warmly as we landed. When Cyane landed, Callum pulled him close and kissed him. They''ve been a little more¡­ touchy-feely?... since they got engaged. Whenever they were within ten feet of each other, they had to kiss. It got old pretty quickly.

    When Callum pulled away, he spotted the folder in Cyane''s hand. He closed his eyes for a second, took a breath, and said, "What have you two decided now?" He''s been through this process more than a few times.

    Cyane gave Cal''s hand an apologetic squeeze before saying, "Well, we''ve come to an agreement on a location."

    "Is it the meadow again? I know she was really pushing for that one."

    "No," Cyane replied, a smile beginning to form. "It''s the lakeside in Wake."

    Cal was still for a second, then he smiled broadly. "So you were listening when I suggested it! I thought your head had been lost in the clouds."

    Cyane pulled Callum close again. "I wasn''t lost in the clouds. I just couldn''t focus because I was looking at you~" Cyane purred. "Can you blame me when I had someone like you sitting so close to me?" He closed the already small distance between with another, deeper kiss.

    Well, this is getting awkward¡­ I''m all for love, buuuut¡­

    Cal, after a minute, put a hand on his fianc¨¦''s shoulder and broke their kiss. "Come on, sweetie, you''re going to embarrass me."

    Cyane was already leaning in again. "How? There''s no one here~"

    Cal pointed over Cyane''s shoulder, my brother seeming distantly puzzled.

    "Ahh hem!" I cleared my throat as loudly as I could.

    Cyane followed Cal''s finger and noticed me for the first time since we arrived. "No one important, at least."

    I politely made a gesture with my middle finger to repay that sentimentality.

    Cal chuckled, freeing himself (a little reluctantly) from Cyane''s embrace. He took the folder and gave its contents a quick look over. He rolled his eyes as he took in the information. "Wake is in a completely different territory, but she still has an entire wedding planned ahead of time. I don''t know whether I should be impressed or scared."

    "That sounds like mom," I added.

    "Food, cakes, florists, everything ready at a moment''s notice," He looked at me with an amused resignment. "Do you think I''ll get a say? You know, I''m just one of the two Harpies actually getting married, but that doesn''t stand for much, it appears."

    I took his hand in both of mine and bowed. "I am so sorry for the way the members of my family are. However," I said, releasing him and raising my finger like a teacher trying to drill a lesson into a student''s head. "You''re the one that said yes when my brother proposed. You knew what you were getting dragged into."

    "I know! It doesn''t seem worth the trouble," Cal said with an air of exasperation. "But you know, I couldn''t say no to that lug. He wouldn''t have a shot with anyone else, so I guess I had to settle."

    I patted Cal''s shoulder. "I know how you feel. I grew up with him and it was no picnic."

    Cal patted my shoulder. "I''m so sorry for what you had to go through."

    "And I you, for the trials that will soon plague your life."

    "Please guide me, oh Wise Kestrel!" He placed his other hand on my remaining shoulder.

    I withdrew my hand and placed it on top of his head. "Run while you still have the chance, my child."

    Cal placed a hand over his mouth, faking being shocked. "Oh, but what if I do love him, despite my better judgment, Wise One?"

    I moved my hand down to his forehead. "Then you must resign yourself to a life of his stupidity and dim-wittedness. It is the only option."

    Cal''s shoulders slumped and his wings drooped. "Is that truly all I can do?"

    "It is."

    "I guess I''ll do it if I must."

    I took his face in my hands like I was some mother from a children''s book. "I am sorry, my child. You will bear a heavy fate in the near future. You have my best wishes. Please stay strong."

    "Of course, Wise One. Thank you. I''ll try my best."

    We stayed like that for a moment, but neither one of us could keep it in any longer. We both started laughing, letting each other go to wipe tears from our eyes.

    Cal, taking a stuttering breath, said, "I almost couldn''t get that with a straight face!"

    I managed to say, "Nothing about you is straight! Don''t worry about it!" This sent us into another chorus of laughter. Cal grabbed the railing to keep himself on his feet.

    Cyane, his face blank, but in an unamused sort of way, said, "That''s it, the wedding''s off."

    "You''re free, my child! You''re free!" I cried.

    "Oh, Wise One, it is such a relief!"

    We both laughed even harder, struggling to draw air into our lungs. Cyane groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You two really are the worst."

    "We know," Cal and I said at the same time, finally recovering from our fit.

    Cal shook out his wings as he finally regained his composure. "At the very least, I got to pick the destination, so that''s a win." Cal gave the papers another glance over. "What do you think those two will have us wear for the big day?"

    "I would suggest something with a giant bow on top," I chimed.

    "For me or your brother?"

    "Yes."

    "Fair enough," He nodded. "I have to admit, Cy would look really cute with a bow." The mental image made both of us chuckle.

    Arms wrapped themselves around Cal from behind. Cyane leaned against him, his expression both annoyed and good-humored at the same time. "Come on Cal, you get to make the important decisions, too."

    Cal ran a hand through Cyane''s feathers. "Let''s see: you picked the date, Robin chose the color scheme, the two of you got most of the guest list, and you both agreed on fish as the main course."

    "Don''t forget they settled on the flowers yesterday," I added.

    "Thanks, Kes," Cal nuzzled Cyane''s cheek. "You two have done more planning than I have, and the only part I''m getting a say in is the location."

    Cyane returned Cal''s nuzzle and gave his temple a quick kiss. "I''m sorry. I guess we did take control, a little-"

    "Ahh hem!" I put in.

    "Okay, a lot," He relented. "Everything''s pretty much decided, but whatever''s left is up to you. It''s your special day, too, and I want you to enjoy it."

    "Awww," This exchange is getting the better of me. They can be so frickin'' cute sometimes!

    Cal mulled it over. He and I exchanged eye contact. I remembered the box I had set down when we landed. I gave it a glance and Cal did the same. We looked at each other, the idea forming in both our heads and smiled.

    "Well," Cal began, "In that case, I''m choosing the cake." He gave the folder a shake. "I don''t know if it''ll be the one your mom recommended, but if it isn''t, you two will just have to put up with it."

    Cyane gave a worried look at the side of Cal''s face, but it melted into a defeated smile. "Alright, if you insist. Anything you want."

    "And Kes will help me decide," Cal added on.

    "What?"

    "I accept!"

    "Are you sure about that?" Cyane asked with a note of concern. "You and she on your own can be a bad combination."

    Cal rubbed his forehead against Cyane neck. "You said anything I want, right? Well, this is what I want. That is unless you want to take away one of the only things I get to chose on our special day?" He emphasized the last two words.

    "Yeah, Cyane," I began, "You wouldn''t break your promise to your future husband, would you?"

    Cyane looked at both of us before burying his face in Cal''s shoulder. "You two are pure evil," He mumbled.

    "And proud of it," We said together.

    He looked up at the sky with a pleading look, then rest his chin on top of Cal''s shoulder. "Fine, you two can do whatever you want. Just don''t get crazy, alright?"

    "No promises~" Cal purred and kissed Cyane''s cheek. "Come on, Kes has got a cake and I have no attention of letting it go to waste. Let''s dig in!"

    "Cal, I always knew you were too good for my brother!"

    He shrugged, "What can I say, I love him too much to turn him away."

    Cyane twirled Cal around and picked him up while hugging him at the same time. "I love you, too, despite your obvious alliance with my sister to work against me."

    "You''re the best." They started kissing again.

    "Come on, lovebirds! There''s a cake that needs our full attention!" I cried pushing them towards the door.

    "Would you mind, sweetie?" Cal asked Cyane, while still in his arms.

    "Of course." He tossed Cal over his shoulder and walked through the door, a huge smile on his face, as Cal beat laughed and hit playfully at his fianc¨¦¡¯s wings in false protest.

    Those two are going to be insufferable when the wedding gets closer! I felt myself smile, driving away my annoyance. What dorks! I followed them inside and prepared to stuff myself full of cake! It was going to be a great day!

 Chapter 4: Basilisk

    The ringing started when the stars were still bright in the sky. Most people who heard it would describe it as random noise, but all I could make out were wind chimes rattling against each other on a breeze. I was used to hearing it every day, so maybe that¡¯s just me. Either way, it signaled my time to wake up.

    I¡¯m always slow to get up; it took me about five minutes to actually get out of my bed. Pale moonlight streamed from under the curtain, casting distorted shadows around my room. The source of the noise was a pot of flowers on the bedside table. It was drooping, silver petals rubbing against one another to make the wind chime sound. I yawned, grabbed a cup of water next to the flowerpot, poured it into the soil, and watched as the Silver Clamor straightened up and ceased the noise. I did this every day without fail, so I moved automatically, trying not to just flop back on top of the covers.

    I went through my morning routine: bathe, brush my teeth, get dressed, find my shoes, stumble down the stairs, walk outside, reach the buildings about six minutes down the road, unlock the door, and get started. I threw kindling from a sack into the fire pit under the oven. Rummaging through the jars lined up underneath the counter, I found the one I needed. I unscrewed the lid and peered inside. Still have enough for another week or so, but it would be better if the next shipment got here soon. I scooped out a glob of pasty green goop and threw it on top of the kindling. I walked through the storage room and opened the door into the back room. In the corner was an organized stack of logs. I grabbed as many as I could carry and went back to the fire pit. After placing the logs neatly on top of the kindling, I smeared another handful of goop onto the logs. I picked up the flint and block of steel next to the pit and struck once, twice, three times before the kindling and goop caught fire. Within minutes, the pile was up in a blaze.

    My hands were covered in goo and grass and bark, so I washed them in the sink on the far right of the counter. I turned a knob and water spilled into the basin. I rinsed my hands off quickly, turned off the water, and dried my towels on a rag that was hanging off a hook. After that, I went back into the storeroom and brought out all the ingredients we would need to start off the day.

    After about an hour, I was kneading the dough of the puffs when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I heard another door open in the storeroom, and my uncle emerged a few seconds later. His hairline was receding, but he just said that his brain was getting so big that it was pushing out the follicles (he can be rather strange sometimes¡­). He had a round belly that, coupled with his ever-present smile, gave him an air of jolliness. If you looked closely, he, like all Naiads, had a dusting of blues and purples across his skin like colorful powders.

    He was tying an apron around his neck, not paying attention as he walked over to the oven. I felt a sharp pain and gave a yelp as my uncle stumbled back. He looked down and let out a surprised puff of air. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m sorry, Bassi! I didn¡¯t see where I was putting my feet!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said, holding up my tail and rubbing the spot he had stepped on. ¡°It woke me up.¡±

    Ripple snickered. ¡°If it works, I guess I won¡¯t hold it against myself.¡± He opened the oven and peered inside. ¡°Started with some bread, uh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± I nodded as I continued kneading the dough. ¡°Just something simple to start the morning.¡± I rattled a bowl full of slimy, green pouches. ¡°I didn¡¯t start the best part without you.¡±

    Ripple saw the bowl and his smile widened. ¡°You¡¯ve already brought out the Spew Pods! I expected no less from you!¡± He took a closer look at the dough I was currently working on. ¡°And you''re preparing the dough! Never one to disappoint, are you?¡±

    I shrugged as I continued. ¡°No point in waiting until the last minute.¡±

    Ripple chuckled as he pulled the bowl of pods towards him. ¡°Very true boy, very true. I¡¯ll take my hands at these blasted things while you''re finishing up the dough.¡± He opened one of the drawers and withdrew a small knife.

    Spew Pods have two different phases of maturity: the pouches and the spreading. Once they¡¯re ready to drop seeds, the algae develop pouches where the pods would grow. Once the pods are ready, the pouches detach from the main body of the plant and get carried away in the current. The pouches open and spill the pods, which burst when they come into contact with something with enough force. The pouches are harvested a day or two before the separating begins, and you have to carefully split the pouches open to get to the pods. One wrong move, one tiny nick, and the pods will burst and cause a terrible mess! It¡¯s a lot of meticulous work for an unpopular item, but I can¡¯t get enough of them.

    Once I was done with the dough, I helped my uncle with the pouches. We had gotten the knack of cutting into the membrane without getting covered in slime. By the end, we had emptied the pods into a new bowl and discarded the deflated pouches. After that, the morning continued as it always does. My uncle and I had finished about a dozen baked goods before the sun rose. Ripple was just setting out a few pies when the customer door opened and the bell rang.

    A messenger, a boy around my age, held out a stack of letters to my uncle. He accepted and thanked the boy, who raced out to finish his deliveries. He ruffled through them, sorting them into different piles when one caught his interest. He opened it and scanned the pages before giving a hearty ¡°Oh ho!¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. ¡°Is it some kind of order, or one of your old friends?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s actually from a young lad I meet a few years back,¡± My uncle replied while reading the letter again. ¡°A good kid, he was. Apparently, he¡¯s getting married here and is looking for someone to bake the cake. His fianc¨¦e''s mother is friends with Mauve, you know, the lady running the bakery on the other side of town. Anyway, he wants to see all his options before making a final decision. He¡¯s coming into town in soon and would like to buy a cake to sample.¡± My uncle looked up with a gleam in his eyes as if someone just wagged a sack of rue in front of his face. ¡°I better prepare my best!¡±

    ¡°Was he really that friendly, or do you have something else in mind?¡±

    My uncle patted me on the back as he came back around the counter. ¡°He¡¯s just someone with a good soul, nothing more nothing less. I just want the chance to give him something special for such a big day. Besides,¡± he continued with a breathy tone, ¡°It warms my heart to prepare something with such a meaningful purpose.¡±

    Ripple has said stuff like this before, but I don¡¯t understand. A cake is just a cake, isn¡¯t it? What does it matter what kind you have or who makes it? It¡¯s just a small detail in the long run.

    I rinsed my hands again and asked, ¡°By best, do you mean your favorite: The Frosted Fountain?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my boy! Nothing can even compare!¡± He scratched the back of his head as he peered at the jars once more. ¡°Although, it has been a while since I last prepared it. Also, I don¡¯t seem to anymore Teary Moonlight.¡± He was referring to a dye he uses for the frosting. He only used it on special occasions. ¡°I want to show him a prime sample when he arrives tomorrow! Could you run to the market and pick up a jar for me?¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Of course,¡± I replied. The market would open soon anyway so it would be best to get there before a crowd forms.

    Ripple retreated into the storeroom and returned with a small pouch of rue. ¡°That should be enough for a jar from Swirl¡¯s stall. Good luck!¡±

    <hr>

    It took me about twenty minutes to reach the market. Only a few stalls had any merchandise set out, and even fewer customers were wandering around. The market was a space in the middle of Wake where almost anyone could sell whatever goods they owned, within reason. You could find clothes, weapons, books, food, and so many other goods from any of the tribes. Of course, many merchants competed with each other for business, so the prices varied widely between sellers. Plus, you had to be careful around shady stands, or you could end up with something not quite¡­ ideal for purchase. For the most part, it was a great place to buy whatever you wanted as long as you keep your wits about you.

    I waited for about half an hour before Swirl arrived. He had a house within the market area, so his booth was a short walk from his front door. He waved as I drew near. ¡°Well, if it isn¡¯t little Gorsi,¡± He croaked. Spots of navy and midnight blue ran up and down his arms and were just visible on his neck, coupled with a powdering of violet. ¡°Let me guess, old Ripple needs something?.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a dye for frosting,¡± I answered. ¡°Teary Moonlight.¡±

    ¡°Teary Moonlight? He¡¯s whipping up something special, uh? What¡¯s the occasion this time?¡± Swirl asked while sticking a hand in a sack he had dragged out of his house with him.

    ¡°Someone he knows is having their wedding here, and they wanted to sample some of the bakeries in town. Ripple really wants to show them his best work.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like your uncle,¡± Swirl started taking a few jars out, eyeing the labels, and setting them on his stand. ¡°Hey, how¡¯s your father been doing lately.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± I answered on cue. ¡°He and Delta have been busy, but they¡¯re fine besides that.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± Swirl placed an abnormally large jar next to the others. ¡°I heard about your older sister and her new position. Congratulations.¡±

    Oh great, this again. I thought. I should have known this would come up. Always does. It¡¯s my sister, after all.

    ¡°She worked hard to reach this point, and my whole family is proud of her,¡± I said with a smile. ¡°Delta sent a letter saying we¡¯ll have a party to celebrate when she gets the time to visit.¡±

    Swirl nodded approvingly, adjusting some of the jars he had set out. ¡°I always knew she would move on to great things. How could she not when she has an older brother like yours?¡±

    Now we¡¯re on Chasm. Perfect.

    I continued to smile as Swirl rambled on. ¡°That boy was always working so hard, more so than any of the other Luc-Luc his age, at least that I knew of. Friends with everyone you could name and a scholar student. When I heard he was invited to attend school in Quiver, I wasn¡¯t surprised whatsoever. Chasm was made for great things, and he lived up to achieve them.¡±

    Fawn over him a little more, why don¡¯t you? I know he¡¯s a big deal, but it¡¯s so old having this happen. I know they¡¯re important, so I just have to power through. He can¡¯t keep talking forever.

    ¡°And when he and Conda got married, I celebrated the occasion with your father and our buddies,¡± Swirl stopped rummaging in his bag and faced me. ¡°Young sweethearts tying the knot. It warms an old heart. Then they started a family, and I sent the happy couple a basket of the best fruit I had on hand! Their thank you letter was so thoughtful.¡± Swirl continued on. He was known for his lengthy conversations, but I was hoping to avoid this particular topic. The sun was over the horizon, but Swirl was still rambling on. I just stood there, listening and waiting.

    ¡°Ah, what great young ones,¡± He said with the impression of an old man reminiscing about his own youth. ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see where you end up!¡±

    Here it comes...

    ¡°With such great role models, you have a bright future ahead of you. You¡¯ll take right after them, I¡¯ll bet my rue on it.¡±

    Stay calm, Basilisk. He¡¯s just being polite.

    ¡°You know,¡± he leaned a little closer. ¡°You even look like your older brother.¡±

    Glass shattered in my head; a wave of irritation making my jaw tighten

    Of course.

    ¡°Do you have that dye my uncle needed?¡± I said before Swirl could continue, my smile wavering.

    ¡°Hm? Oh, yes.¡± He reached back into the sack and drew out a jar with a dark blue stopper. ¡°Here you go. That will be five rue for Ripple.¡±

    I picked the coins out of the pouch my uncle gave me, placing them in Swirl¡¯s outstretched hand. I grabbed the jar and said ¡°Thank you. I should be getting back now.¡±

    Swirl looked at the sky and seemed to notice the change in color for the first time. ¡°Why, I bet you do! Sorry for holding you up. Tell Ripple hello for me!¡±

    ¡° I will,¡± I called as I walked away.

    The regular crowd had begun to form. I was shoved by a group of passing Naiads as they rushed over to a stand with Hurpiti clothes. I dodged a Naiad swinging his arms as he started an argument with a merchant. I hated this place when it got busy, which is why I try to avoid it as much as possible. Finally, I broke free of the bodies and followed the familiar street back to the bakery, my thoughts in a whirl.

    Another chunk of my time hearing about Chasm and Elapid! Just perfect!

    Please, like I was going to do anything important anyway,

    But did he have to rumble on for so long? I hardly made a peep, but he rambled like we were having a conversation!

    To be fair, you didn¡¯t try to interrupt him.

    It would have been rude to do so!

    Still, why is it always about them?

    Be quiet already¡­

    I just-

    That¡¯s enough... It doesn¡¯t matter now¡­ Let it go¡­

    It¡¯s always-

    Stop¡­ Let to go¡­ It¡¯s not important¡­

    Doesn¡¯t matter. Right, it doesn¡¯t matter. I should just forget about it.

    It¡¯s unimportant¡­ Just a small detail¡­

    Yeah. No big deal.

    I let out a deep sigh, the bakery coming into view. As I was about to open the door, a shorter figure crashed into me. I caught a flash of silver underneath a hooded cloak.

    ¡°Sorry about,¡± They said, their voice light and soft.

    ¡°No problem,¡± I replied. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡®I¡¯m fine, thank you. Have a nice day,¡± With that, they were jogging down the way I had just come from. I brushed it off and entered the shop. My uncle was coming in from the door leading to the balcony, two empty cups in his hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m back, Ripple,¡± I greeted. ¡°Is there a customer out there?¡±

    ¡°Hm? Oh, no. She left already,¡± He seemed distracted, his jolly visage replaced with one of concern. ¡°We had an¡­ interesting conversation.¡±

    ¡°Anyone I would know?¡±

    ¡®No, I hadn¡¯t seen her around town, either. A shame, really,¡± He placed the two cups in the sink. ¡°She has your tastes.¡±

    ¡°My tastes?¡± I noticed the basket with the Spew Algae Puffs. A number of them had disappeared since I had left. ¡°She actually bought some of the puffs?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a shame you didn¡¯t meet her instead of me. You might have had a better chance of talking with her,¡± He sighed and checked the oven.

    That¡¯s new. My uncle enjoys talking to almost anyone and never has any trouble. Ranging from common people, members of other tribes, young, old, wealthy, poor, sick, healthy, Ripple had a way of reaching them. Probably because of his good nature. The fact that someone turned him away was something I hadn¡¯t heard of in years. Why he thought I could talk to this mystery girl instead, I had no idea.

    It¡¯s not like anyone enjoys talking with me.

    I forced the thought down.

    My uncle closed the oven and turned to me, an idea clearly in his head judging from the light in his eyes. ¡°Bassi, I need you to do me another favor.¡±

 Chapter 5: Crossing Paths

    -Lilyweaver-

    I woke up when the stars were beginning to appear in the dimming sky. I had slept longer than I wanted to, but I hadn¡¯t missed anything. Now I have to get ready, eat, and head off to work. Fuck yeah. No point in staying on my ass any longer. With that, I got up and got ready for the evening.

    On the street, I passed families and Naiads returning home to turn in for the evening. No one paid me any mind as I pulled my hair up into a tail as I walked towards the lake. I was too tired to really pay attention to my surroundings; all I wanted to do was finish work as soon as possible and do whatever I wanted to do afterward.

    I reached a pier overlooking the lake. I saw the one on the opposite shore, the pier I had simply sunk from the previous night. I was not going to waste all that time walking along the bottom, so I¡¯m doing this the fast way. I took a step off the pier and, like earlier today, dropped into the water. Unlike earlier, my head was clear. I closed my eyes and let the water crash over me.

    It¡¯s never the same for different Naiads; each one describes the feeling like something a little different. Some feel like moving it from one place to another as if they were simply using a tool. Others described it as a sixth sense that they do as easily as seeing or hearing. For me, it''s like a piece of me clicked back into place. Whenever I called upon my ability, it was as if my world expanded. I felt the waves, the ripples, every drop as if it were attached to my body. I could move it just like my arm or leg or any of my fingers.

    Ugh, this is getting too mushy. You get the idea.

    I closed my hand into a fist, the water starting to condense around me. I took a second to form an image of the pier and the path I would take to get there. I opened my eyes and willed the water to propel me forward. I shot like an arrow from a bowstring. The darkening water whirled in a vortex of crashing waves and bubbles. Even as my vision became obscured, I could feel the departing fish and tips of aquatic forests as I passed them. In about twenty seconds, I made it to the other side of the lake. I threw my hand upward and exploded from the lake in a blast of droplets. My feet touched down on the wood of the pier. I flicked my wrist backward. The droplets were thrown back into the lack, and the water drained from my clothes and body.

    That sounded a little more extravagant than I meant, but whatever.

    Now dry, I continued down the road like nothing out of the ordinary had happened (which it didn¡¯t). As I got closer to the Deep Crawler, the buildings became shabbier. Wake is one of the nicest Naiad cities, but it still has a shadier area. It may not be a shithole like others, but it still holds its fair share of lower lives: beggars, drunks, thieves, the likes. I don¡¯t really have an opinion about them; I¡¯ve seen those people on the side of the roads more than a few times and have been in their shoes at times. Still, I can¡¯t say that I feel sorry for all of them. There are some people that seek thrills on the sides of streets or in crappy bars. I can¡¯t stand someone like that! They¡¯re so¡­ I¡¯m riling myself up, so I¡¯m stopping now.

    I passed the spot where the four dumbasses from earlier got the crap beaten out of them. After another minute, I reached the Deep Crawler. It¡¯s a stereotypical run-down tavern: faded sign above the door with its name, cracked and dirty windows, mismatched tables and chairs, a bar along the back wall, a door leading into the kitchen next to it, blah blah blah. I walked past the crowd and into the kitchen. There, I grabbed an apron bearing the tavern¡¯s name and threw it onto my shoulders. I checked my hair tail one more time, grabbed some menus from a pile on a table next to the door, and started my shift.

    My job itself was relatively simple: act like a competent waitress. As long as I placed faces to orders, didn¡¯t cause any accidents, or punch a fucker¡¯s face if I got catcalled, then I got through the job rather easily. Besides that, I helped clean up before the next shift started and helped in the kitchen if we were short staffed. Tonight was not one of our busy nights, so the fake smile on my face was much easier to keep plastered on my face.

    One of the perks was working together with Cobalt. She was in her early twenties, Naiad streaks an unusual dark green and rich blue, with salt and pepper speckled hair. She was the bartender and a damn flamboyant one. Cobalt could flip, shake, spin, twirl (and all the other synonyms) any bottle to make whatever crazy drink you wanted. I don¡¯t know if what she did was professional or not, but the fun she had was so infectious that the customers couldn¡¯t help but get drawn in. That was just her: a ball of positive energy that lifts up everyone around her.

    Cobalt poured a round of shots for a group of laughing males. As I emerged, she flashed me a smile and hopped down the bar over to me. ¡°Heya, little Lily~¡± She sang. ¡°How¡¯s your day been, cutie?¡±

    If anyone else had talked to me like that, they would end up with my boot up their ass. Cobalt was the exception. Even I fell victim to her friendly atmosphere. At first, I thought she was intolerable. Slowly, over the last couple of months, Cobalt wore me down and became the closest thing I had to a friend in Wake. One thing I like about her was that she kept the small talk to a bare minimum. A ¡®hey, how was your day?¡¯ or ¡®any trouble getting here?¡¯ was about the gist of it. She wanted to hear about how you felt about things, not just skimming the surface. And she actually listened.

    Shut up. I just think she¡¯s a good person, okay?

    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Are you sure you should be saying that? You might make Arroyo jealous.¡±

    She scoffed. ¡°Please. I dumped that guy weeks ago and you know it.¡±

    ¡°What about Cali?¡±

    ¡°Now she was something,¡± Cobalt sighed. ¡°But it didn¡¯t work out.¡± She gave my shoulder a shove. ¡°That was back when you started here. Now you¡¯re just trying to mess with me.¡±

    ¡°Oh please, it¡¯s too easy to fuck with you.¡±

    Cobalt pouted. ¡°While I appreciate the offer, you¡¯re a little young for me, little Lily.¡±

    ¡°I hate you.¡±

    ¡°You love me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m neutral about you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re enthralled.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a decent person.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll settle for that,¡± she relented with a laugh.

    I rolled my eyes again, but couldn¡¯t help smiling for real. ¡°You¡¯re terrible.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    We talked back and forth as the night droned on. Customers laughed, argued, drank, sang, and managed not to start any fights. We didn¡¯t sell much food, so Snapper started cleaning while Cobalt and I handled the floor. For the most part, the night rode on smoothly. That is until they stumbled back in.

    Through the door walked three of the males from last night, lead by the ass-grabber. Bile rose in my throat and my anger swelled. I turned away and stormed into the kitchen before they could see me. My anger erupting, I punched the wall. All that did was make my knuckles hurt.

    I heard the door swing open and close behind me. A voice from my left said, ¡°Are you alright?¡± Cobalt. She didn¡¯t press when I didn¡¯t answer. She didn¡¯t lay a hand on my shoulder. She just waited.

    I took a breath, lightly pounding my knuckles against the wall. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s just the guys that came in.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± She asked softly, not a note of curiosity to be found.

    ¡°Yesterday, when my shift ended, one of them made a pass at me.¡±

    She didn¡¯t say anything; Cobalt knew there was more to the story.

    ¡°When I said no, he grabbed me,¡± Her breathing changed, but she didn¡¯t interrupt. ¡°I yelled at him, told him off. I tried to walk away, but they came at me.¡±

    ¡°Did they hurt you?¡±

    ¡°No, I actually kicked their asses,¡± I sighed, running a hand through my hair. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ I was only¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, you¡¯re okay,¡± Cobalt moved closer. She placed a hand on the back on my head and hugged me. Her other hand rubbed my back gently. That¡¯s all for a while. Cobalt didn¡¯t say anything else, just hugged me and comforted me.

    A distant memory from a long time ago came into being, veiled in a fog crafted from years already gone. I saw a Naiad holding me, humming a tune I can¡¯t remember. She was rocking me in that creaky chair that I used to curl up in sometimes. She caressed my hair, rocking back and forth until my eyelids grew heavy.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got you,¡± Cobalt whispered. ¡°It¡¯s okay that you¡¯re rattled. You¡¯re tough, I know, but these things get to you. Although, not everyone would leave the other guy black and blue. You crazy little Lily.¡±

    I chuckled despite myself, finally returning her hug. ¡°Thanks, Cobalt.¡±

    ¡°Anytime,¡± She pulled away and winked. ¡°Wait right here.¡± Cobalt disappeared through the door. I waited for a minute, when¡­

    ¡°AND GET OUT YOU ROTTEN PILES OF SHIT!¡± There was a crash, glass shattering, a woosh that I linked to crashing waves, a chorus of shouts, and then the front door slamming shut. A few seconds later, Cobalt stuck her head into the room, beaming. ¡°Things got a little rowdy, so I had to escort them out.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the best.¡±

    ¡°Tell me something I don¡¯t know.¡±

    <hr>

    The rest of the night was uneventful. Once our shift was over, Cobalt escorted me home.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do-¡± I started.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you right there,¡± She interrupted. ¡°How likely do you think that anything you say will make me change my mind?¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    We rode the waves across the surface of the lake (I don¡¯t feel like going into detail about that. You get how it works). We chattered back and forth, going on about this and that. (What? Do I have to describe every little detail? Give me a fucking break!). Cobalt was telling me a story when-

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± a voice said beside me, almost scaring me shitless! A Luc-Luc around my age had snuck up on us while we were talking. I don¡¯t know when he started following us, but he was suddenly a foot away. He didn¡¯t even flinch when I jumped. I was about to punch his fucking face when he said, ¡°Here you go.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    He held out his hand, which had a Spew Algae Pod Puff in a nest of paper. ¡°What the fuck is this for?¡± I hissed at him, completely bewildered. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±

    ¡°My uncle asked me to give this to you,¡± he replied calmly.

    ¡°Your uncle?¡±

    He pointed over his shoulder at the bakery I had passed without even realizing. ¡°He¡¯s the Naiad you met yesterday; the owner of Tidepool.¡± I saw the sign written above the door, navy letters with illustrations of crabs and fish underlined with kelp. ¡°His name is Ripple and he wanted me to give this to you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thanks,¡± I took the puff from him, still skeptical. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you walk out of the bakery.¡±

    His head tilted a little bit. ¡°I didn¡¯t come out of the bakery. I¡¯ve been walking beside you for the past five minutes.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck!¡± Is he joking? I turned to Cobalt, who just shrugged. ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡±

    ¡°I tried to get your attention, but I guess you didn¡¯t hear me,¡± He continued without any sign of shame. ¡°When my uncle told me you worked at the Deep Crawler and that you took this path on your way back, I figured that you would just cut across the lake. I was right.¡±

    I honestly don¡¯t know whether I should call this guy a stalker or just stupid. ¡°How did you know I was the right person?¡±

    ¡°Hardly anyone is out at this time of night, and your friend doesn¡¯t fit the way my uncle described your appearance,¡± He stated matter-of-factly. ¡°Hello, Cobalt.¡±

    ¡°Heya, Bassi~¡± Cobalt chimed.

    I turned to her. ¡°You know him?¡±

    She nodded. ¡°Ripple¡¯s bakery is one of the best. Bassi here is always around, so we know each other.¡±

    I was surprised, which I shouldn¡¯t be. It would be faster to list the people Cobalt wasn¡¯t friends with in town than name the ones she was. It¡¯s just the way she is.

    This ¡®Bassi¡¯ waved vaguely over his shoulder. ¡°I finished some muffins before I went looking for her. Would you like some?¡±

    Cobalt¡¯s eyes flashed. ¡°Fresh muffins? Of course! Come on!¡± She grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the Tidepool.

    ¡°What the fuck is happening? Slow down!¡± How is she so fucking strong?

    Before I could comprehend what was happening, I was at a seat on the patio, a basket of muffins in front of me, Cobalt chewing happily, and the Luc-Luc boy pouring two cups of tea. He set the kettle on the table and moved back towards the inside of the bakery. Cobalt flapped her arm, swallowed what appeared to be painfully, and said with tears in her eyes, ¡°Come sit with us! We could use the company!¡±

    Why? Why the fuck? I don¡¯t know this guy, and I didn¡¯t exactly like talking to his uncle! All I¡¯ve figured so far is that he¡¯s strange, and I really didn¡¯t want to get to know him.

    The Luc-Luc hesitated at the door. Cobalt continued to wave him over, her radiant smile bright in the early morning. Apparently, he couldn¡¯t say no to her either. He took a seat and started eating a muffin. We sat there in silence, besides the chewing of muffins. I felt a jab from under the table and caught Cobalt giving me a sideways glance.

    Great, she wants me to talk. Fucking fantastic. I don¡¯t know what to say to him! Cobalt jabbed me again. Fine! What to say? Okay, here goes.

    ¡°How is your uncle a Naiad where you¡¯re clearly a pure Luc-Luc?¡± I asked. Cobalt covered her eyes with her hands and sunk in her chair.

    ¡°My mom and dad were Luc-Luc. My mom died and my dad married a Naiad. Ripple¡¯s actually my step-uncle, but he insists I call him uncle,¡± He said as if stating a simple fact.

    I was getting the sense that this guy is rather bland. His tones didn¡¯t hold any real expressive emotions. And he had this air of constant exhaustion: his eyes were a little sunken, making it seem that they were in shadows; shaggy, black hair hung just above his eyes; he didn¡¯t move with any energy, as if he was just going through the motions. Another aspect of his face bothered me: it hardly changed. Whenever he spoke, his mouth was the only thing that moved. His eyes didn¡¯t shift, his eyebrows were still, he didn¡¯t move his body. I also don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen him blink since he sat down, which disturbed me. For whatever reason, he was wearing gloves and a shirt with sleeves too long, even though it was the warm season. It was like he was a doll being operated by strings from behind the scene.

    ¡°How did your mom die?¡± Cobalt kicked my foot. I didn¡¯t care; I just wanted to get a reaction out of this fucker.

    ¡°She was a soldier and died in a border scuffle when I was young,¡± He said in that fucking emotionless tone.

    ¡°A border scuffle? Really? How did she really die?¡±

    ¡°Lily!¡± Cobalt gasped.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but there¡¯s no way she died in a ¡®border scuffle¡¯ like he said,¡± I leaned back in my chair, one arm hanging free off the back. ¡°The worst it gets between the tribes is an occasional disagreement on trade routes. Somehow, this unheard of violence took his mother¡¯s life? Bullshit.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just say stuff like that!¡± Her voice was rising, a sign that I had really pissed her off.

    ¡°If he can¡¯t show the guts to admit the truth, I¡¯m going to call his crap! It¡¯s his mother! Aren¡¯t we all supposed to be proud of our mom¡¯s?¡±

    Cobalt¡¯s eyes widened, her complaint freezing on her tongue. It was something I hadn¡¯t meant to say, but I let it slip out. It¡¯s something that I never let Cobalt her me speak about. Since the night I had stayed in her home, tears dripping on her floor, neither of us had brought up the topic. I hope it would be gone, withered away like a plant left unattended. I had just watered its pot.

    Our argument ground to a halt, both of us lapsing into silence. It was only a few seconds, but the sudden shift was clear. Which one of us would speak first?

    Apparently, neither of us.

    ¡°She was part of the elite guard, a fighter through and through,¡± Bassi¡¯s lusterless voice drew us back, putting the unintentional comment to rest in the heat of the moment. ¡°She was tasked to escort an envoy for the Luc-Luc to meet with the Gleameyes before they both attended an event. There were¡­ complications. She wasn¡¯t able to return home, and she got caught up in the aftermath trying to protect the Gleameye border. That was a few months after I was born.¡±

    A few months after¡­ Oh.

    I¡¯m a fucking terrible person.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I say, an audible sigh from Cobalt¡¯s direction.

    Bassi shrugged. ¡°It was a long time ago. It¡¯s fine.¡±

    Just like that, he¡¯s fine? What¡¯s his deal?

    ¡°At least you had the rest of your family! They¡¯re all so wonderful,¡± Cobalt added soothingly, trying to comfort someone who didn¡¯t seem distressed.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess,¡± was all Bassi said.

    ¡°You mean his uncle?¡± I asked. ¡°The Naiad?¡±

    Cobalt shook her head, apparently glad for the change in conversation. ¡°Ripple wasn¡¯t his uncle at the time. I mean his father and siblings. How are they, by the way?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re great,¡± He put in.

    ¡°Would you mind telling me who you¡¯re talking about?¡±

    Cobalt took a quick sip of her tea before saying ¡°Well, Bassi¡¯s family is pretty well-known around here. You know Chasm, that young Luc-Luc that was just appointed as a relation advisor? That¡¯s Bassi¡¯s older brother.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± I looked Bassi up and down, not seeing any sign that he might be related to anyone of that status. Said Luc-Luc was looking gloomier than a minute ago, rolling a pod precariously across the table with his fingertip.

    ¡°Oh yes!¡± Cobalt chirped. ¡°And his sister is a renowned fighter, just like their mother! Her skills are incredible, and she has the makings to become part of the elite guard!¡±

    ¡°Uh. What about you?¡± I directed my question at Bassi, who lifted his eyes up slowly. ¡°You got any remarkable skills, too? Or are you just some lowly baker?¡±

    Cobalt swatted my arm, making my skin stinging. ¡°That¡¯s enough of that! And for the record, Bassi is a great student, just like his siblings! One day, you¡¯ll end up just like them, won¡¯t you Bassi?¡±

    He pressed down on the pod to nearly its bursting point. He turned his eyes away, answering the question with a nod.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see it,¡± I said honestly. ¡°He doesn¡¯t seem like a fighter or advisor to me. He just seems like a baker.¡±

    ¡°Lily, that¡¯s enough!¡± Cobalt snapped.

    I just shrugged, but I didn¡¯t feel the bite behind her words. My attention was on the Luc-Luc now. He was looking at me, the pod stopped. He stared at me as if it was the first time he really processed my existence. It kind of pissed me off.

    ¡°No matter what, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll follow your family¡¯s footsteps. I¡¯m looking forward to the day I hear you meet a nice girl, or that you¡¯ve got some prestigious job.¡± Cobalt flashed her winning smile, that one that won over the hardest of characters.

    ¡°Sure, I won¡¯t disappoint you,¡± Bassi said. This time, I picked up on something on the undertone of his voice; I couldn¡¯t place what it was. He picked up his cup, stood, and went back into the bakery without another word.

    A little taken back by his abrupt exit, I collected myself and took another bite of my puff. Cobalt turned to me with some meaningful expression that I didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°What,¡± I asked with a full mouth.

    Cobalt gave me a look that I took as being half annoyed and half ¡®are you kidding me?¡¯ ¡°You don¡¯t see anything wrong with what just happened?¡±

    ¡°What does it matter?¡± I replied. ¡°It seemed like he didn¡¯t really want to be out here anyway.¡±

    Cobalt sighed. ¡°You¡¯re hopeless sometimes.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Cobalt rarely insulted me, unless we were joking with each other. ¡°I don¡¯t see what the big deal is.¡±

    Cobalt met my eyes, a steely glint in her gaze. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to make of that kid. And you weren''t helping!¡± She said with a sudden snap.

    ¡°What did I do?¡±

    ¡°For starters, how about questioning how his mother died? It¡¯s a personal dilemma that you shouldn¡¯t take lightly, and you acted so rudely!¡±

    ¡°They were just questions! I didn¡¯t believe him, and I don¡¯t like being lied to! I wanted an honest answer!¡±

    ¡°And what would you do if someone pressed you about your mother?¡±

    Oh¡­

    Fuck.

    Cobalt sighed and picked up her muffin. ¡°I don¡¯t know a lot about him personally. I don¡¯t think anyone does. Whenever I see him, he¡¯s working here or reading. I¡¯ve never seen him with other kids or even outside all that much. I¡¯ve tried to connect with him about his family because I know a lot about them, so I thought it would be easy. It hasn¡¯t worked. He¡¯s¡­¡± She paused, thinking of what to say next. ¡°Unexpressive, yes. He¡¯s hard to figure out. When he popped up earlier, I thought it would be a good idea for you to bond with him. I think¡­ that by letting you try to frustrate him, Bassi was trying to see if you would accept him. I honestly don¡¯t know. Was I wrong to think that you could be friends?¡±

    I didn¡¯t say anything. Cobalt¡­ couldn¡¯t figure him out? The girl was a natural at getting anyone to open up to her. I know from experience! Just being around her, being close to her friendly personality, was enough to bring down most walls. If Cobalt couldn¡¯t connect with him, I don¡¯t know how I could.

    ¡°Why would it matter if I did become friends with him? It would just be a fucking waste of time!¡±

    Cobalt sighed again. ¡°If you say so, Lily.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Here you go.¡±

    It was the next day and I had finished my shift a short time ago. Cobalt only walked me to the pier today, since the rest of the way to the inn was through the safest part of Wake. When I passed the bakery, Basilisk was waiting for me. He handed me another paper wrapped Spew Puff.

    ¡°My uncle said to keep giving them to you,¡± With that, he turned back towards the bakery and entered without a backward glance.

    That continued for two weeks. Every day, I would be walking after work and he would be waiting with a puff. He never said anything besides ¡®Here you go.¡¯ After that, he just returned to the bakery. It was weird; he¡¯s just doing this because his uncle said so, but something about this seems¡­ different. I don¡¯t know, but it started to become something I looked forward to after a long day.

    One time, I couldn¡¯t fall asleep, so I wandered the streets of Wake until I would wear myself out. While doing this, I came across the older Naiad baker, Ripple, coming out of a shop with several bags strapped across his back. After a few seconds, I caught up to him and tapped his shoulder.

    ¡°Hm? Oh, it¡¯s you, young lady!¡± He gave me his jolly smile I remembered from a little over two weeks ago. ¡°How have you been?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± I replied quickly. I just wanted to say this fast. ¡°Thank you for the Algae Puffs, but your nephew doesn¡¯t need to stand outside every day like that. It¡¯s more than enough already.¡±

    Ripple face showed his puzzlement. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean. I only asked him to do that once, and that was weeks ago.¡±

    <hr>

    Later that day, I stomped into the Tidepool with a bag dangling from my wrist. Basilisk was placing a loaf of bread on a shelf behind the counter. I walked up to him and held the bag over the dividing surface. ¡°Here.¡±

    Basilisk looked at me with that empty expression. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a thank you gift, dumbass,¡± I stated. ¡°For the puffs; you¡¯ve been giving me even though your uncle didn¡¯t tell you to. And¡­¡± I had to brace myself for the next part. ¡°...it¡¯s an apology for the way I acted a couple of weeks ago.¡±

    He examined me like I was a poisonous insect that would sting him if he approached. Hesitantly, he took the bag and looked inside. For twenty seconds, all he did was look inside. Eventually, he set the bag aside and said, ¡°That seemed like it was painful to say.¡±

    Was that¡­ a joke? ¡°It was,¡± I admitted. ¡°It felt like shit on my tongue. I¡¯m done now.¡± I moved to the exit.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    I froze and turned. His face was different. Warmer. It was only a half smile, but it completely rearranged his expression. His eyes seemed brighter, not nearly as blank and his hair not shading them. The smile caused his face to seem rounder, kinder than the passive look he usually had.

    It was weird, but I thought I cracked a shell that Cobalt couldn¡¯t scratch. It felt¡­ strange.

    Something about his expression made me return the smile. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± I left. As I started to return to the inn, an image of Cobalt with a cocky smirk appeared in my head.

    Damn it!

 Chapter 6: The Happy Lizard

    -Talon-

    ¡°Ya look terrible.¡±

    ¡°Hello to you, too.¡±

    Beryll chuckled before sitting down next to me. We were on a pile of boulders that were against a cliff overlooking one of the stretches of flat land throughout the school grounds. The day was over, so students were taking flight and heading towards the city. I decided to stick around for a while, and Beryll found me.

    ¡°Wanna bite?¡± He held out a half-eaten pastry that I couldn¡¯t recognize.

    ¡°No thanks.¡± He shrugged and tossed the rest into his mouth.

    ¡°How have the ¡®special¡¯ classes been goin¡¯?¡± He asked after swallowing. ¡°I mean, must not be all the grand, considerin¡¯ you appear to have been on the wron¡¯ side of a Scale Skinner and left to rot on a hot day to be picked apart by insects.¡±

    Lovely imagery as always. ¡°They¡¯re okay but exhausting. Today, Windshift had us performing flight drills for half an hour as a warm-up, and then started making us perform flight patterns I¡¯ve only read about before! Yesterday, Wildfire had us swinging swords and hacking away without a break! Two days before that, Flicker literally threw fireballs at us and told us to intercept them, except they exploded every time you did so! Ugh, I hurt all over.¡±

    Beryll chuckled and flapped his wings. ¡°Well, this is what ya get for being such an overachiever. Ya could¡¯ve had a rest period with me, but ya choose to try and be a Forged-Scale. Ya work yourself to the bone anyway, so I¡¯m not surprised you''re tired.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m the only one working hard.¡±

    ¡°But the rest of them don¡¯t put in as much work outside of class as ya do,¡± He wagged his tail as he swayed his head to some tune only he could hear. ¡°I don¡¯t know where ya get the energy to do all that studyin¡¯ and practicin¡¯ at home, but ya push yourself a lot. School only started a couple¡¯a weeks ago, but you''re already burned out.¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s just what happens,¡± I laid back on the rock and covered my eyes with my arm. ¡°I¡¯ve got to work hard if I want to pass.¡±

    Beryll muttered something to himself that I couldn¡¯t hear. Then, he shoved me with his foot and sent me toppling off the rock. I crashed onto the ground and sat up with a surprised yelp. Beryll looked down at me and said, ¡°Come on, we¡¯re goin¡¯ to get somethin¡¯ to eat.¡±

    Dusting myself off, I asked, ¡°The usual place?¡±

    Beryll nodded and flared his wings. ¡°Try to keep up.¡± He launched himself into the air and took off towards the city. I followed, racing to catch up.

    Hearth, the beating heart of the Dragonic territory. A ten-minute flight from Meltingpot, the capital rose up to stand out majestically over the landscape. The city was a creation spawned from the cooperation of Dragonics, Gleameyes, and Naiads from hundreds of years ago. Hearth was built with a layered layout, and each grew smaller as they reached the top. Always present around Hearth was the specks in the sky that flashed various colors. While we had roads, it was easier to fly if you were in a hurry, especially to get to a different layer.

    The back of the bottom three levels was built against a cliffside, so each of these levels was in the shape of a half-circle. The bottom layer is a jumble of roads leading to and from fields for local crops, spanning for several miles. The next layer is the market, always bustling and swarming with Dragonics out to buy something. It was much smaller than the previous layer but took up miles of elevated land. The third was for the residential area, so homes and parks were a common sight there. This is also where you would find restaurants and other places where you wanted to grab a bite eat, so it was our destination.

    We dodged wings as we landed outside a building dubbed The Happy Lizard. The building had a coat of bright paint in shades of red, orange, and yellow. Outlines of lizards were stationed here and there in darker colors. We entered and we were instantly surrounded by a roar of merriment and laughter. The regular crowd consisted of Dragonics who had just finished work or school and wanted a delicious meal. Many of them waved and said hello as we moved toward a small table in the far corner. The moment we sat down, plates with slabs of roasted meat slathered in sauce were set in front of us. A female Dragonic in her forties smiled warmly at us and gave me a swift hug. ¡°Good to see you again, Talon. It¡¯s been too long!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been here every day for years now,¡± I said while smiling back.

    ¡°I know, but it¡¯s always good to see your friendly face. Especially since you put up with my son.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± Beryll chimed.

    Hestia had the same orange scales as her son, but her hair was wavy and deep red. I had known her since I was young, and she was like my second mother. Hestia treated me like I was part of her family, and always smiled when she saw me.

    A shout came from the kitchen, making Hestia start backing away. ¡°They need me in the kitchen, but I hope you two enjoy.¡± She was gone a second later.

    I looked down at the meat on my plate and felt my stomach rumble. Like everything else on the menu, this smelled delicious even if I didn¡¯t know what it was. I took my knife and dug in. It was a minute before I realized that Beryll was just watching.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Come on, your rippin¡¯ into that thing like a beast. You¡¯re not even usin¡¯ your utensils anymore.¡±

    He was right. In the short time since I had started eating, I had abandoned my knife and fork and just started shoveling my food into my mouth with my hands. This, sadly, was not the first time.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± I said, looking for a rag

    ¡°Oh, just lick your fingers! You¡¯re goin¡¯ to anyways.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I did just that, giving up my search for a rag and just tasting the sauce and meat on my fingers.

    ¡°You can really be a slob sometimes,¡± Beryll said as he picked up his fork.

    ¡°I¡¯m not ashamed,¡± I said, tucking back into the rest of the meal left on my plate.

    Beryll snorted. ¡°Prim and proper until a plate of food is in front of your face. I would be scared about losin¡¯ a finger if I tried to get in between you and your food.¡±

    ¡°As you should be,¡± I said truthfully.

    The rest of the meal continued as we talked about how the school day had gone. I suggested that we should study for our history review, which Beryll respond to by dropping his face onto his plate and the leftover sauce. We continued back and forth until a stomping of fists and mugs roared to life to my left. A couple of tables over, a messenger was talking with a group of his buddies. Based on the blue scarf wrapped around his bicep, he delivered messages from the Dragonics to the Naiad territory. The group around him listened with enraptured expressions as the messenger spoke to them, retelling his most recent delivery.

    Beryl¡¯s eyes lit up as the messenger waited for the noise to lessen. ¡°That¡¯s Smoketail!¡± He whispered with delight.

    Smoketail has been a regular at The Happy Lizard for years. Every time he stopped by after a delivery, Smoketail would tell his friends and anyone present tales that he had acquired on his route. Sometimes it was just gossip or rumors, but Smoketail was determined to find the most interesting topics in order to entertain his audience. Last time he was here, we heard about a Scale Skinner hunt along the Luc-Luc border. The time before that, it was about a Siren who had sung in a festival and was met with overwhelming applause. Before that, it was the Hurpiti¡¯s annual competitions. Whatever it was, Smoketail had a crowd around him that waited with anxious ears to hear him recount these stories.

    Now that the first round of stomps had subsided, Smoketail continued on with minimal noise drowning him out. ¡°I was just as pleased to hear they had put that crook away. Jumper the Sly is finally off the streets.¡±

    ¡°Did they find his stash?¡± One of Smoketail¡¯s buddies, a stout Dragonic with a stain on his tunic, asked with a slight snarl.

    ¡°Yes they did, my friend,¡± Smoketail boomed. ¡°What a trove it was! Buried under a fallen tree in Hurpiti territory. Jewelry and treasures all in a pile large enough to bury a man! I have to admit, Jumper had a knack for getting what he wanted.¡±

    ¡°Thankfully he¡¯s gone,¡± The stout Dragonic addressed the assembled group, earning a mixed grumble of approval. ¡°I¡¯d heard enough of him stealing from homes of good Dragonics and the like!¡±

    A charcoal-colored female blew a puff of smoke out of her nostrils. ¡°At least that¡¯s the worst that he did. Some have done much worse than that.¡± Her remark was also meet with agreements.

    ¡°Right you are!¡± Smoketail exclaimed. ¡°I remember the crimes of Boa and Kelp from years back. Vile little mongrels!¡± More cheers. ¡°And who could forget about Aurum and his reign!¡±

    The charcoal Dragonic wiggled her wings, apparently in annoyance. ¡°They were the worst. Thieves, murderers, liars! Any crook under the sun! Every village was shaking when he was around and rightfully so!¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s been quiet for years now,¡± A third Dragonic with small scars on his palms added. ¡°There hasn¡¯t been a word about him.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s still out there,¡± the female Dragonic growled. ¡°He was never caught; the best they could do was scare Aurum off. He¡¯s quiet, but he¡¯s just waiting, I¡¯m sure.

    Smoketail nodded along as they chatted. Then, with a flap of his wings, he continued. ¡°Yes, old Aurum is a menace that is roaming free. That part is terribly true. Like all crooks and thieves, there is a story to tell, each of them with their own excitement and intrigue and cruelty. But they don¡¯t have the showmanship of the Jester!¡±

    ¡°The Jester?¡± A Dragonic male with scars on his hands asked puzzled. ¡°Isn¡¯t that just some wannabe that failed to break into a Luc-Luc trade house a short stretch back?¡±

    Smoketail¡¯s body started jittering at the evident desire to tell his story. ¡°That¡¯s how they began, but the Jester has made strides! Just last month, they managed to slip into a Dragonic stronghold!¡±

    Roars sprang up from several of the assembled. The stout male slammed his mug on the tabletop. The one with the scarred hands was making a hissing noise as if he were about to spew flames. The charcoal female had sparks springing from her fingertips as she grunted, ¡°Impossible! Simply ludicrous! There is no way some lowly thief could break into one of our strongholds!¡±

    ¡°Oh, but it is, dear Ashcloud, it is. Not just any stronghold; they broke into none other than Lavapatch.¡±

    More protests broke out as I drew a breath. Lavapatch is one of the Dragonics most heavily guarded strongholds, second only to the top level of Hearth. Some of the tribe¡¯s most important leaders call the Lavapatch a temporary home. It is also where we hold meetings with other tribes and store some of the most important information that we¡¯ve gathered. Lavapatch has lasted longer than any living Dragonic and had never been captured in times of conflict. Most intruders hardly get a foot past the gate, the luckiest halfway across the courtyard. If it wasn¡¯t a well-known stronghold, the Lavapatch¡¯s reputation would have made it seem like an impenetrable prison.

    Ashcloud was still spilling some dimming sparks on to the tabletop. ¡°Even so, it wouldn¡¯t matter. The guards probably caught him within minutes, if not seconds. How far did the Jester get, Smoketail? The front gate? The courtyard? Or did they actually manage to reach the door?¡±

    Smoketail scanned the faces of the gathered Dragonics before saying, ¡°The Jester was found inside the Lavapatch¡¯s vault.¡±

    A collective gasp leads into a startled silence. Beryll threw me a surprised look before returning his attention to Smoketail. The Lavapatch¡¯s vault¡­ in the fortress¡¯s very core¡­ Who is this guy?

    Smoketail nodded slowly, letting his revelation sink in before continuing. ¡°The Jester had been standing shamelessly in the middle of the vault when it was opened. I was told they announced themselves and made some kind of joke, and then they attacked.¡± Smoketail lapsed back into silence as the gathered Dragonics looked at one another. Even Ashcloud was left speechless. Smoketail went on. ¡°Four guards tried to apprehend the thief. The Jester left all of them in pools of their own blood, on the doorstep of death. Yet the Jester left them alive, leaving them to bleed as the thief left, a mad cackle following him. They disappeared into broad daylight, leaving no trace behind except for the mortally wounded guards.¡±

    No one spoke for several long minutes. Beryll and I kept glancing at each other, trying to wrap our heads around what we had just heard. Not only did they break into Lavapatch, but the Jester nearly killed four of the tribe¡¯s most notable soldiers? If this had come from anyone except Smoketail, I wouldn¡¯t believe a word; however, Smoketail¡¯s stories were always accurate.

    Finally, the stout Dragonic cleared his throat. ¡°How did you hear about this?¡± He asked.

    Smoketail shook his head sadly. ¡°I was assigned to stop over to deliver a message from the Naiads. When I arrived, the whole place was wrapped in tension and worry. I was told what happened from a servant, but I managed to find my way into the infirmary. Once there, one of the guards recounted the events, fear clear in his eyes. And that, I¡¯m afraid, is only the first of the Joker¡¯s recent actions.¡±

    The scars on the large male Dragonic trembled as he flinched. ¡°One of? What else has he done?¡±

    Smoketail let out a long sigh before progressing. ¡°My recent assignment kept me flying back and forth for a couple of weeks. One time, during a stop in Wake, I lost my messenger scarf at a tavern.¡± He gestured to the blue cloth wrapped around his arm. ¡°It was lucky that I¡¯m a familiar face because I wasn¡¯t able to retrieve it for about a month. When I did, the bartender, a lad named Snapper, was quite frazzled. When I asked him what was troubling him, Snapper recounted the Jester¡¯s actions of the night before: the Jester had attacked a group of kids out of the blue. As I can gather, one of them put up a valiant fight. Even so, the Jester was within seconds of killing them when one of the Naiad soldiers intervened. They drove the Jester away but weren¡¯t able to capture the thief. The Jester vanished as they laughed, just like they did in Lavapatch.¡±

    A couple of Dragonics took deep swigs from their mugs. Others rubbed their eyes with their fingers. Some just stared at a random spot in the room. Ashcloud said in the silence, ¡°Children. What a terrible thing to do.¡± A few nodded as the silence continued.

 Chapter 7: Legend

    They say at the eve of creation, there was nothing:

    No animals

    No land

    No plants

    No sound

    No silence

    No light

    No darkness

    Simple oblivion

    Can you picture that? A complete absence of being?

    Then, everything changed. In that void came a flicker, a mere spark, forcing its presence to exist. It refused to sink away, so it grew. It became a funnel of light that created the first shadows, a beacon to guide nothing. For an eternity, these flickers struggle to survive within a vacuum. One moment, they did.

    In an instant, they formed a being with arms and legs, a face and hair, fingers and toes.

    A girl.

    <hr>

    ¡°Brokker! Attention!¡±

    I was on my feet immediately, my superior glaring at me while the other two guards looked on disapprovingly. Swallowing, I said ¡°Y-yes, Brilliant Crackle?¡±

    Crackle¡¯s lip drew back in a snarl, her sharp canines standing out in the moonlight. Smoke billowed from her scaly wings, a sure sign that I had angered her. ¡°What do you think I just witnessed?¡±

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know, B-Brilliant.¡±

    ¡°I just saw one of my Burns, someone that I¡¯ve had to reprimand several times in the last few months, sleeping at his watch post. Which, I might add, is one of the easiest positions to be assigned. Can you believe that, Burn Brokker?¡±

    ¡°Br-Brilliant, please! I-¡±

    ¡°Who would think that someone that has been honored to earn a spot at Lavapatch, the Dragonic¡¯s renowned fortress, would so casually let themselves doze off while on duty? Was it the beautiful night? The moon in the sky? Do they take this important job for granted? What do you think, Burn Brokker?¡±

    My face was burning. I could practically hear the blood pounding in my cheeks. ¡°It wasn¡¯t intentional!¡±

    That was a mistake.

    ¡°¡®Wasn¡¯t intentional?¡¯ ¡®Wasn¡¯t INTENTIONAL!¡¯¡± Crackle roared, flames mingled with her furious breath. ¡°Oh, no harm if it wasn¡¯t intentional! DO YOU TAKE ME FOR AN IDIOT?¡±

    ¡°N-no¡­¡±

    ¡°DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHY WE GUARD THIS FORTRESS? Lavapatch is the most important stronghold that the Dragonics have ever held! We protect some of the most valuable treasures and information we have ever obtained! Do you think that¡¯s all a joke?¡±

    I gulped, sweat running down my brow.

    Crackle seemed like she wanted to yell more, but one of the other Burns behind her cleared his throat. Crackle took a moment to compose herself before fixing me with a glare that had cooled several degrees but still seemed like she wanted to fry me. ¡°If you make such a moronic mistake again, you¡¯ll be discharged and will be demoted to an Ignite! Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Y-yes, B-Brilliant Crackle!¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± She turned to the other two Burns. ¡°It¡¯s time to inspect the vault. I want everyone on full alert for signs of any trespassing or tampering. Do I make myself clear?¡± She threw this last bit over her shoulder, a growl underneath her words.

    ¡°Understood, Brilliant Crackle!¡± The three of us replied.

    Crackle marched down the hall, the night sky peaceful off towards her left. I pushed myself away from the low wall overlooking the entrance, following my superior in line with the other Burns.

    <hr>

    She opened her eyes to nothing, her first experience one of total solitude. She sighed, the air from her lungs whistling in the void, the first stirrings of wind and sound. She wandered aimlessly, hoping to find anything.

    She never did.

    Time didn¡¯t exist, but as she journeyed, she felt what we call seconds slowly ticking away. She knew nothing but the sound of her breath and what she could see of her body.

    As she realized her fruitless efforts, the girl fell to her knees and wept. Tears fell from her eyes, landing on her legs and disappearing into the abyss. The girl, after crying for what she found to be forever, was marveled at the droplets. She wiped them from her cheeks and waved her hand, the tears flowing to fill the emptiness.

    With the new sensation of floating and drowning, the girl became afraid. As she was swept away in the boundless flood, she flailed for something to catch her. She accidentally tore four strands of hair from her head. They were washed away from her grip, but her fright remained for it had been forged into her very being, having experienced but three emotions.

    These strands extended and wove themselves together, becoming vast enough to brace against the flood. When the girl washed against these masses, they solidified, fulfilling her wish for rescue and safety from the waters.

    She scrambled to distances herself from the torrent, cutting her skin on the stone, discovering pain. It did not matter. She was safe, and that¡¯s all she wanted for the moment.

    <hr>

    Crackle lead us through corridors that we had to memorize the day we took a post in Lavapatch unless we would be lost in the labyrinth. Still stinging from the assault of her ridicule, I remained silent and tried my best not to make another mistake to fuel her anger. The other Burns didn¡¯t say a word, but one seemed almost as angry as our superior while the other cast me sympathetic glances.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Eventually, Crackle held up her hand, and we all stopped before a towering set of doors at the end of a large chamber. The walls curled upwards into a dome. Torches flickered, the flames casting dancing shadows over the stone.

    Crackle took a key from her neck and motioned for the sympathetic Dragonic to approach. She did, and the two of them slid their keys into different locks. A rumble came from within the walls, and the doors swung open.

    <hr>

    As the girl laid gasping on her savior stone, she saw something that she deemed marvelous. There, taking root in the stone, was a plant. As she raised her hand, she saw the blood that she had trailed on the rocks. Her blood seeped into the land, and a sprout bloomed.

    And the girl experienced joy.

    She flung the drops of her blood, racing across the newly created ground. Wherever her blood landed, something new grew. She ran to every corner of the landmass, and then back, and then again, not letting a single patch go unchecked. That was until she came to rest on a patch of land that she had yet to fertilize. As she spilled her blood, the girl couldn¡¯t resist the urge to touch her creations. The moment her fingers came in contact with its stem, the plant was set ablaze

    <hr>

    As we watched the vault open, I heard the female Burn gasp. Crackle drew her sword, the steel reflecting the firelight.

    The other Burn and I were standing a few paces behind, so we didn¡¯t see what had startled them. As we drew our weapons and took our places beside them, the reason became clear.

    There, in one of the most secure places of all the territories, stood a figure.

    <hr>

    The girl drew back her hand with a cry, but it was too late. The flames blackened the innocent plant, springing from one to another, reducing her creations to ashes. Guilt welled up in the girl, but so did something else: anger. She had searched so long to find another being, only to have it destroyed.

    She cried out, the gale from her scream batting at the flames. The girl reached for her sea, the one that had sought to drown her, and brought it back. Waves crashed over the land, dousing the flames and saving the plants that the girl loved.

    With the absence of the flames, the girl realized something had changed. For a reason she couldn¡¯t place, she missed the destructive entity. She held out her hand, letting a single drop of blood fall and bloom. Hesitantly, she plucked the plant from its roots, watching the leaves smolder and ignite.

    <hr>

    The figure watched us in the doorway, and then they bowed. On their head as a ridiculous hat, large and extending out like a wilting plant with four stalks. On the tip of each curving extension was a bell, chiming softly as the person moved. They wore a coat with patterns of diamonds in black, grey, and white. Their pants reached their knees, but they were blown out, two large puffs around their thighs. Underneath that was another, skin-tight garment that reached down to their shoes, which were curled at their tips.

    As they straightened, I gasped. On their face was a white mask, with openings over the eyes and mouth, shaped into a grotesque smile. It was like their face was stuck in a permanent, vile grin. But what surprised me was that when I stared into these openings, even in the bright torchlight of the vault, I saw nothing. They were just bottomless pits where fragments of a face should be.

    ¡°Good evening,¡± The intruder greeted in a cheery, light voice. ¡°Pleased to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce myself.¡± They straightened their foolish hat with a gloved hand. ¡°I¡¯m Jester.¡±

    <hr>

    The girl was warm.

    As she held the flames in her palms, the girl felt the heat that she had overlooked in her protective state. She cradled it to her chest, the flames erasing the chills left from the waves.

    As the girl sat in the desolated patch of land, embracing the warmth, an idea occurred to her. All of these things that she had created were astonishing one their own, but what about if they were one?

    Her curiosity drove her.

    The girl dug her hand into the stone and soil, scooping out a mound. As she did, her skin was cut anew, flowing into the earth. Quickly, the girl ran to the shore and doused her newfound treasure with the waves. She rolled the flames she held dearly with the mass, the object beginning to take a new shape. And finally, she held her treasure up to her lips and blew softly.

    The messy lump was scattered as dust. As it touched the ground and plants, it formed beings of legs and fur and skin. In the air, dust became feathers that shaped into wings. Large and small, plenty and few, gentle and fierce, these new creatures roamed the land.

    The girl laughed with glee as she watched her creations frolic, but as she did, the creatures noticed her glow. They were drawn to the light that she herself was crafted from.

    Fearing that she may harm these beings as she had with the plants, the girl knew she could not be near her creations. And so, she cast herself as far as she could into the sea but took to the air when she saw the creatures that swam in its depths. Avoiding the amassing flock of animals, the girls escaped far away, until her glow was gone from the land.

    <hr>

    Flames burned around Crackle¡¯s hand, her eyes as intense as her fire. ¡°Tell us your name!¡± She demanded.

    The one dubbed the Jester cocked their head, bells ringing. ¡°Did I not make myself clear? I¡¯m Jester.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mock me!¡± Crackle roared.

    ¡°Would you prefer Fool? Or perhaps the Idiot? The Jokester? While I¡¯m not fond of that last one, feel free to call me any names along that line.¡±

    When Crackle¡¯s growl became so loud that it filled the entire vault, the male Burn raised his voice instead. ¡°What do you want here? What is your purpose?¡±

    The Jester chuckled. ¡°Well now, those are two very different questions. My purpose is my own business. As for why I¡¯m here, I¡¯m actually in the market for a Bane.¡±

    My blood ran cold, the tension radiating off our squad was substantial. Crackle¡¯s flames burned brighter.

    ¡°One is here, correct?¡± The Jester rubbed the back of their head, knocking their hat slightly askew. ¡°I could have sworn it was here. Excuse me!¡± They waved at Crackle casually. ¡°The Serrated Crown is here, right? I wouldn¡¯t want to have come to the wrong place on bad information. Hmm, where could it be?¡±

    The Jester tapped their chin in thought. With each tap of their finger, one of us would flinch. Every few times, I thought I saw something in the corner of my eyes and I would start. After a short stretch of time, the Jester held up a finger with a sound of success. ¡°Would it happen to have been moved to Hearth?¡±

    Crackle sprung, taking a flying leap, sword flashing. The rest of us followed a heartbeat later.

    <hr>

    Despite the loss of being near another living being, she still wished to watch them. Keeping that great distance, the girl rose to watch her creations from above. As she saw them live, she felt such love that her feelings crept out of her. Pink and red and orange seeped into what remained of the oblivion, and as the girl rose higher, they became a brilliant blue.

    As she observed her creations, something ensnared the girl. She was forced from the sky, her light vanishing.

    <hr>

    It was horrible beauty, venomous elegance.

    The Jester moved with such grace, knives gleaming and clashing. Each movement seemed like a choreographed step, always with a purpose. As their knives met our weapons and armor, the scrap of steel rang in unison with their bells.

    They were a blur of dodges and turns and parries and cuts. We couldn¡¯t land a hit with a blade or fire. They seemed to be everywhere, but would always find a way to slip away and appear in our most vulnerable spot.

    And then their knife found blood.

    Red flew, a spray from my ally¡¯s chest. His armor had been cut away, exposing him. With one fluid slash, the Jester had found their mark. As the drops surrounded them in their spray, they seemed perfectly adequate in the scene. Like a painting, the smiling mask and knives, that grace and brutal elegance, the blood and pain, all seemed to blend together into a captured moment that made all too much sense together.

    And when they came at me, my weapon knocked out of my hands in a spur of rapid clashes from their knives, I knew nothing of fear or adrenaline. Even when the steel slipped past my armor and found my abdomen, I couldn¡¯t focus on the pain. My full attention was on this marvel of an invader.

    I could only think about how they seemed to be something more, a being of nature. Something crafted of tales from storybooks.

    Something unreal.

 Chapter 8: Gift

    -Basilisk-

    My day usually starts with me just opening the bakery, alone. I have some time to myself where I can do the things I need to do and not be interrupted. I can start the oven, set out the ingredients, and just start whatever dessert or bread that I wanted to make that particular morning. It was quiet, and I could stay completely relaxed as the sun started to rise. It was nice.

    Then she started showing up.

    Yes, I gave Lily a Spew Puff every morning, but I was trying to be nice. I had stormed off the first time we meet, and even though she was trying to get a reaction out of me, I didn¡¯t think she was horrible. She may be rude, annoying, and seemingly short-tempered, but she¡¯s a decent person. I gave her that second puff since she works early and seemed to be having a bad day. I just felt like doing it the following two weeks, but I never expected anything to come out of it.

    I learned that the unexpected becomes common when Lily is involved.

    ¡°Here,¡± I turned to see Lily standing in front of the counter, a bag dangling from her outstretched hand.

    I set down the bread that had just finished cooling. I had no idea what was happening. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±

    Lily glared daggers at me as she shook the bag. ¡°It¡¯s a thank you gift, dumbass,¡± She barked. ¡°For the puffs you¡¯ve been giving me even though your uncle didn¡¯t tell you to. And¡­¡± Her eyebrow twitched and her knuckles paled. ¡°... It¡¯s an apology for the way I acted a couple of weeks ago.¡±

    A gift? Why is she doing this? Is this a prank? Then again, I don¡¯t know her this well. This may be something she does, but why would she give a stranger a gift? Should I take, or leave it? I don¡¯t really know¡­ Take it or refuse? Refuse? Accept! I don¡¯t know!

    Calm down¡­

    I don¡¯t know what to do.

    Whatever you want¡­ Tell her to leave or accept the gift¡­ it¡¯s a one-time thing that won¡¯t matter tomorrow¡­

    Right.

    Do whatever you want¡­

    Okay.

    Lily¡¯s eyes narrowed as she continued to hold out the bag. Reluctantly, I took the bag from her and looked inside. A face stared back at me. I blinked, confused. Then, I realized it was cloth. Lily had given me a fabric doll of a little Luc-Luc.

    It¡¯s an actual gift. It¡¯s not a prank. She actually got me a gift.

    I didn¡¯t know how to react. My chest felt light, my throat twisted into a knot.

    Run away!

    Hug her!

    Say you don¡¯t want it!

    It¡¯s just a doll¡­

    My throat loosened. I set the bag on the counter and said the first thing that came to mind. ¡°That seemed like it was painful to say.¡±

    Lily looked me over, her eyes widening a little bit. She grunted before saying, ¡°It was. It felt like shit on my tongue. I¡¯m done now.¡± She turned and made her way over to the door.

    I looked at the bag, my chest still feeling light. I didn¡¯t think she would do something like that. The only time I¡¯ve ever gotten presents was from my family, and that hadn¡¯t been meaningful like this. A tingling ran up my face. I¡­ I couldn¡¯t help it. It felt¡­ nice.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    It just came out. Without any thought, without any preplanning, I said it.

    Lily stopped and faced me. Her expression was weird; I couldn''t place what her look meant. Then, she smiled. ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± She shook her head and left.

    I took the doll out of the bag and sat it upright against the breadbasket. The detail on it was well done: stitches crossing together, running from the knuckles up its arm making scales. The maker did the same thing on the legs and partially up the neck. On the underside of the arms and legs, grayish material stood out against the green-blue scales. The horns, instead of pointing up or inwards, turned outwards and dipped and rose two times to make a wavy shape. It wore a generic shirt and pants, and its hair was short and dark brown. Big, red eyes and a smile stared back at me.

    It¡¯s adorable!

    I picked up the doll and rubbed it against my cheek. It¡¯s so soft! Where did she get this? I love it! I just want to put it on my shelf! Well, after pushing something else off. I can¡¯t believe Lily got this for me! It¡¯s great!

    I suddenly became very aware of the windows in the storefront. I placed the doll back in the bag and placed it behind the counter. That light feeling was still in my chest.

    It¡¯s just a doll¡­

    ¡°Yeah, it is. But I really like it. And it makes me happy that she gave it to me. Thanks, Lily.¡±

    <hr>

    I didn¡¯t know that would be the end of my solo mornings. Because from that day onward¡­Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°What can I do to help out?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do anything,¡± I told her. ¡°This isn¡¯t your job.¡±

    ¡°I know this isn¡¯t my fucking job,¡± She spat. ¡°I¡¯m just trying to be helpful, dumbass.¡±

    ¡°Sure, because you cussing at the slightest provocation is soooooo helpful.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck does that mean?¡± Lily asked/ordered.

    I leaned against the counter and pointed at one of the rare early customers who had just walked in and walked out once Lily started talking.

    ¡°Oh... meh, it¡¯s only one guy,¡± She said completely unabashed.

    ¡°You are a ray of sunshine.¡±

    ¡°Like you¡¯re one to talk.¡±

    When I tried to hand her a puff the other day, Lily just barged past me and into the bakery. She asked me how she could help me open up, just like today. Against my protests, Lily refused to leave until she helped out. I relented and told her some of my morning chores. She set to work without another word. Lily started the fire and started moving the tables and chairs back out onto the patio. I was able to grab the ingredients and start on the pastries right away. When my uncle came down, all I could do was shrug when he saw Lily helping to prep the bakery. He had chuckled and started guiding Lily around the rest of our morning routine. She left after a few hours, saying that she had other things to do.

    Admittedly, she was a huge help. An extra worker made the day so much easier; however, it became clear that she couldn¡¯t help with the actual baking. After an incident involving a cloud of smoke, flavorless clumps of indistinguishable dough that were both over and undercooked, and a series of events that ended with me covered in batter and a bowl dangling from one of my horns, we avoid having her near the food until after it was baked.

    This process continued for about a week. Today, things went a little differently. Near the end of Lily¡¯s self-assigned shift, Cobalt came rushing through the door, clutching a scarf to her chest. Out of breath, she sagged against the counter, gasping, ¡°Lily¡­ you¡­ left your¡­ scarf¡­ at the tavern¡­ I¡¯m out of shape¡­ Damn sweets¡­¡±

    Lily had popped over to her side with visible signs of concern, which slide right off to be replaced by annoyance. ¡°I don¡¯t own a scarf.¡±

    ¡°What¡­¡± Cobalt panted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a scarf, and that has a Harpy insignia on it,¡± She pointed out. ¡°That¡¯s from a messenger.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ well¡­ too late now¡­¡± Cobalt swallowed dryly, pounding her fist on the counter.

    ¡°Water?¡± I offered her a cup.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Cobalt took the cup and drained it of its contents. When she was done, she hopped up and clapped. ¡°Alright! I¡¯m good to go!¡± She placed an energetic hand on Lily¡¯s shoulder that caused the younger Naiad to take a step back. ¡°So you weren¡¯t kidding when you said that you were helping out here. What are they paying you?¡±

    ¡°They aren¡¯t paying me,¡± Lily replied as she tried to free herself from Cobalt¡¯s iron grip.

    ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± Cobalt asked me.

    I shrugged. ¡°We tried, but the most she would take is more Spew Puffs.¡±

    Cobalt turned on Lily. ¡°You work all night, used to sleep the rest of the day away, but now you¡¯re working here for free? What¡¯s wrong with you?¡±

    Lily¡¯s purple eyes flashed. Her fingers twitched. ¡°I¡¯m just helping out, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Reeeeally?¡± Cobalt sang. ¡°Or do you actually like hanging around here? Maybe you want to spend more time here?¡±

    ¡°You make it sound like I should be working here,¡± Lily said

    Cobalt was making a face as if she had just won some sort of game. Where¡¯s my uncle? I think he¡¯s in the storeroom. Based on what I knew about Cobalt and the conversation taking place, I had a decent idea of how the next few seconds were about to go.

    ¡°That¡¯s a great idea! Ripple!¡± Cobalt called. ¡°Is it okay if Lily got an official job in your bakery?¡±

    ¡°Cobalt!¡± Lily piped, too surprised to draw any of her usual annoyance into her words.

    ¡°Of course!¡± My uncle called back from the storeroom. ¡°The more the merrier! She¡¯s been a joy to have around so we would love to have her on board! That is,¡± Ripple poked his head into the main room. ¡°If my nephew doesn¡¯t have a problem with that.¡±

    Cobalt and Lily turned to me: one pair of eyes merry and light, the other as if they were scanning for cracks in a sheet of ice. My head exploded.

    You won¡¯t have any time to yourself in the morning!

    What if the two of you don¡¯t get along?

    Come on, it would be fun to have someone else around!

    There¡¯s no reason to have her around¡­

    This is my place in the morning!

    It would be nice to have someone else helping out!

    Why would I want to be close to her¡­

    She¡¯s been so nice to me!

    It¡¯ll just fall apart¡­

    No, it won¡¯t!

    I¡¯ll just end up in an awkward place with Lily around¡­

    But-

    She¡¯ll act nice and then it won¡¯t matter if I¡¯m here or not¡­

    She¡¯s a good person!

    What does that matter¡­ I know what¡¯ll happen¡­ Turn her away¡­

    Let her join!

    Keep her away¡­

    There¡¯s a chance that we¡¯ll be friends!

    There¡¯s not¡­

    Take a chance!

    Say no¡­

    Just say-

    ¡°Sure,¡± I finally said. ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem with that.¡±

    I did it!

    This was a mistake¡­

    My uncle nodded his approval. Cobalt¡¯s smile somehow grew even wider. Lily shook her head, but she didn¡¯t insult me. Instead, she said to Cobalt, ¡°But I already have a job. I only help here for an hour or two. I don¡¯t want to go from one all-night shift at the tavern to a daytime shift here.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Cobalt tapped her chin. She gave Lily a stern look and said in an authoritative tone, ¡°You¡¯re fired.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re fired.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t fucking do that!¡±

    ¡°I can because I already asked Snapper,¡± Cobalt said as if she were explaining this to a small child. Lily tried to snap back, but Cobalt talked over her. ¡°I asked him after that incident. He gave me permission to fire you if I thought the time was right. And,¡± She gestured to the windows, the ovens, the baskets of baked goods, and finally on me. ¡°I believe this is the right time.¡±

    And that¡¯s how Lily started working at Tidepool. We quickly fell into a routine: Lily waited for me to unlock the door; I gather the ingredients while Lily started the stove; I started to bake, and Lily prepared the bakery for customers; we traded off taking orders from customers and cleaning the floor. With an extra person, my uncle started taking to the streets and handing out fliers while promoting the bakery to anyone who would talk to him. Like I¡¯ve said before, my uncle could talk to about anyone. It worked; he sent customers directly to us, and we managed to help them. At some points, I had to bake more food while Lily dealt with the customers, and she managed to keep her swearing to a minimum.

    At the end of the first week, Lily and I were wiping down the tables after pulling them inside for the evening. The sun was starting to set when my uncle returned. He looked around the room, which was cleaned much faster than it used to be with only two workers around. Ripple chuckled happily and said, ¡°You two should head out for the evening, I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡±

    Lily and I looked up. We usually didn¡¯t leave for another hour or so. ¡°Are you sure, Ripple?¡± I asked. ¡°We could finish up here.¡±

    ¡°I insist. Besides,¡± he chuckled again. ¡°You two seem to have finished almost everything, so the least I could do is let you leave and have some fun before the sun goes down.¡±

    ¡°Ripple,¡± Lily started. ¡°It¡¯s no problem-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough,¡± He persisted. ¡°Just get out of here already. Go, be young and have fun!¡±

    After another few minutes, Lily and I were standing outside the bakery as the door locked behind us. We looked at each other. Lily and I hadn¡¯t done anything after work together, so we would probably just end up saying goodbye and heading home. I was about to do just that, but Lily asked, ¡°Well, what do you want to do?¡±

 Chapter 9: Sleep

    -Kestrel-

    The soft, rising sunlight cast a flush of orange across my room, making everything seem warm and peaceful. Birds sang and chirped as they skitted from branch to branch in the lazy breeze. Blankets held me in their snuggly embrace. It was the perfect scene where you could just lie in bed for hours, somewhere between sleep and awake, and just soak in the serenity.

    Unless you have a sister shaking your shoulder.

    ¡°Kestrel, please get up,¡± Wren pleaded. ¡°We have to get going.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, nooooooo¡­ Let me sleep¡­¡±

    Wren shook me a little harder. ¡°Please? Mom won¡¯t be happy if you fall asleep again. So come on.¡±

    ¡°Kestrel is currently out in the field. Please leave a note and I¡¯ll make sure she gets it eventually.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t funny! We have to go!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll never get me out of this blanket cocoon, and you know it,¡± I hissed, drawing my shell of blankets tighter around me. ¡°I¡¯ll get up after I turn into a butterfly.¡±

    Wren sighed but asked, ¡°And how long will that be?¡±

    ¡°About four to seven hours, give or take,¡± I replied nonchalantly. ¡°In the meantime, enjoy the meeting.¡± I turned on my side where Wren couldn¡¯t see my face.

    I heard Wren sigh again as a knock came from the door in the hall. Wren left, leaving me to snuggle even further into my cocoon. I heard my sister talk with someone for about a minute before footsteps re-entered the room. ¡°Wren, I¡¯m not getting up, so just go on and I¡¯ll catch-¡±

    I was lifted, blankets and all, into the air by someone who was definitely much stronger than Wren. I tried to squirm out of their grasp, but I was trapped in my own cocoon! I was thrown over their shoulder like a sack, and they strode out of my room. I struggled against the blankets and the new person, but their arm wouldn¡¯t budge. Something smacked me in the face. I pulled my face back to see blue feathers.

    That jerk.

    ¡°Cyane! Put me down!¡± I demanded while pounding against his back with an arm I had managed to free.

    He didn¡¯t reply; instead, he entered the dining room, Wren on his heels. I was about to protest again, but I was suddenly flung off his shoulder. In about five seconds, I was untangled from the blankets, plopped in a chair at the table, and had a plate piled with eggs and fruit in front of me. Cyane sat at the other end, and Wren started folding the blankets before setting them on an empty chair.

    Cyane shrugged and said, ¡°Wren told you to get up.¡±

    ¡°I said five more minutes,¡± I tried to be angry, but I started yawning, so the effect was lost.

    ¡°So does Cal, but he always ends up sawing logs the next second. So do you. Huh.¡± He twirled a feather that had fallen from his wing between his fingers. ¡°Sometimes I realize how much you two are alike. Maybe I should reconsider my life choices.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know whether I should be insulted, complemented, or kinda disgusted.¡±

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Cyane drawled, ¡°We did let you sleep for about half an hour. Now you really need to get ready. Mom will absolutely lose it if I didn¡¯t get you two there on time.¡±

    I groaned, letting a crushed mash of fruit fall back onto the plate. ¡°Do we have to go? It¡¯ll be soooooooooooo booooooooring!¡±

    ¡°Of course it is, but we have to go. It¡¯s important that we help Mom uphold her image.¡±

    I flicked a mango chunk at his head, hitting his shoulder by accident. ¡°Please, everyone loves her. I don¡¯t get it, but I guess the rest of the Harpies like an overwhelming, frantic workaholic. She¡¯ll be fine without all of us.¡±

    Cyane picked up the mango, returning it with a flick of his wrist. It hit me square on the nose. ¡°It looks better when we¡¯re all there.¡± Wren nodded quietly from her seat. ¡°Plus, I hear there¡¯s going to be a special guest.¡±

    ¡°Oh please, like that¡¯ll work.¡± I threw half of a strawberry and it landed in his ever-tussled feathers on his head. ¡°The last ¡®special guest¡¯ turned out to be an ambassador talking about trades with the Hurpiti. It was so boring, I think some of the council members fell asleep! Nope, not happening.¡±

    ¡°Kes,¡± Cyane said slowly, picking off the strawberry and tossing it in my lap. ¡°If you don¡¯t go, it¡¯ll be your head.¡±

    I groaned, my chin dropping onto the table. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have an actual effect. We show up, support mom, and sit there of hours on end! So what if I want to miss this one meeting? There¡¯ll be others that are just as boring.¡±

    Cyane sighed. Wren wrung her hands as she watched us. They know I¡¯m right. Our attendance is just a show that¡¯s pointless. Honestly, I don¡¯t think anyone would notice if none of us showed up, but we¡¯ll earn mom good graces if we do. It¡¯s not like she¡¯s using us; she loves us and she¡¯s a great mom. It just feels so¡­ empty. Like a trophy, something to display that doesn¡¯t have any use. I don¡¯t like that feeling.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Right now, I really want to fly.

    We sat in silence for a few minutes. Neither of them tried to argue, but they clearly weren¡¯t ready to give up. After another moment, Cyane shook out his wings. ¡°Alright, I guess you don¡¯t have to go,¡± I perked up, surprised that he relented. ¡°But,¡± Of course there was a ¡®but.¡¯ ¡°That also means I¡¯ll have to take my offer off the table.¡±

    My curiosity peaked, I leaned forward, the feathers on my head beginning to rise. ¡°¡®Offer?¡¯ What offer?¡±

    Cyane sat back in his seat, resting his feet on the table as the chair¡¯s front legs lifted off the ground. ¡°I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t be interested.¡±

    ¡°Try me.¡±

    ¡°Well, Cal and I really want to make sure that everything goes right in Wake, so we were planning on spending a month away to prepare. Turns out, the Harpies are having this major trade route negotiations with the Naiads coming up so I won¡¯t be able to go. Cal¡¯s still going, but he doesn¡¯t want to spend that whole time by himself. So¡­ he says he wants you to join him.¡± His wings flapped as he spilled the last detail. ¡°Interested?¡±

    My head was buzzing, my feathers at full alert. My wings had completely unfurled, twitching in excitement. ¡°Of course! I¡¯d love to go!¡±

    Cyane smirked. ¡°I knew you would. You just have to sit through the meeting and you¡¯re good to -¡±

    I was out of the kitchen before he finished his sentence, my feet feeling like they were floating. Weeks of just me and Cal in Wake? Planning his wedding and seeing the city? Of course, I want to go! Who cares about some boring meeting? I won¡¯t miss this!

    What are we going to see? What are we going to do? Can I actually make Cyane wear a bow? Oh, I can¡¯t wait!

    <hr>

    I regret everything.

    I had stuffed myself into some nice dress and shoes, flown to the Nest, and sat for three hours without complaining. As Finch droned on about harvest projections, my mind felt like it was being weighed down by stone blocks. The previous guy had even made fighting drills sound boring! How do you make descriptions of stabbing and mauling dull? How?

    I looked to my right to see myself reflected in my siblings. Wren, for her best effort, had managed to appear like she was listening. Eyes fully on the speaker, sitting comfortably in her seat, she looked completely professional in her neatly cut jacket and slacks. A little fact about my sister: she could sleep with her eyes open. If I listen closely, I could hear all too steady breathing. I was tempted to wake her up, but Wren didn¡¯t need to suffer.

    Cyane had a few papers in front of him, but he had given up on taking notes since the speaker covering trade and communications with the Hurpiti had finished his lecture. Even though he had a job in the communications and alliance division, Cyane didn¡¯t need to listen to every single announcement. Currently, his elbow was propped up on the desk, his head in his right hand, his left twirling the pen.

    I groaned, head in my left hand, as Finch finished. When the next Harpy took the center, I was hoping for an interesting topic, but it turned out to be education reforms. I glanced around at the semi-circle of desks built into the floor, each one of every raised level occupied. It crossed my mind once again that the lecture hall was built like a theater, facing a sunken stage and back wall, but held none of the entertainment.

    I sunk into a stupor as more Harpies came and went, delivering whatever information they had. At one point, Cyane was taking notes again, but he joined me in boredom soon after. As a brown feathered Harpy stepped off the stage, I heard a flap of wings from the middle of the hall. I saw a large male Harpy with white feathers outlined in black land on the stage. Instantly, my attention was fully on him. A glance at Cyane told me it was the same case with him. Even Wren had woken up at his entrance.

    This is Crane, one of the Wise Trio and head of Canopy. If he had something to say, then it was worth listening.

    He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice booming from the rooms excellent acoustics. ¡°I thank you all for attending this council meeting today. While we¡¯ve of course attended to all the normal proceedings, there is another matter that we must inform you of.¡±

    Murmurs arose from the gathered audience. Cyane, Wren and I exchanged curious glances. I remembered Cyane had mentioned a special guest earlier. Is that what this is about?

    Crane let the noise quiet down before he spoke again. ¡°Since our last gathering, we¡¯ve had an encounter with an interesting individual. She carried information that we thought was best to be shared among all of you. If what she has to tell comes to pass, it could lead to an unstable future for Canopy.¡±

    I was hovering over my seat, anxious to see what happened next.

    Crane nodded to a guard at the entrance. She exited, leaving the room in another chorus of chattering and speculation. I turned to Cyane. ¡°Do you know what this about?¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°I heard that we had a guest speaker, but that¡¯s it. I don¡¯t know the specifics.¡±

    The doors opened, the guard escorting a girl at her side. Gasps rang up from the crowd, Wren and I among them. The girl had pale skin, as in white as milk skin. But she had patches of discoloration along her face and every exposed limp. These patches were the mixture of purple, blue and black that made up the night sky, and I could even see miniature stars within these spots of the night. Her hair was a blending of pink and purple, held back in two incredibly long braids tied together at her waist.

    When she reached the stage, she turned and I saw her eyes: a shifting swirl of crystal and gray. She faced the crowd in a cloak, her feet bare. She didn¡¯t seem excited or nervous or afraid, but I could see the tension in her posture.

    Crane spoke once more to the stunned audience. ¡°This here is Lumi, and she came to us seeking shelter about a month ago. Lumi was being pursued by those who wished to use her gifts for themselves. We took her in, tended to her wounds, fed her, and gave her a room to sleep.¡±

    ¡°Why is this the first time we¡¯ve heard about her?¡± A voice called from the stands. His outburst was followed by a dozen more complaints.

    Crane held up his hand. They fell silent. ¡°We, being the Wise Trio, believed it was best to keep Miss Lumi here a secret until we were certain of her well being.¡± Crane seemed to look every Harpy in the eye, his gaze was steely and unrelenting. ¡°We apologize for keeping you in the dark, but someone like Miss Lumi deserves to have the utmost security. She had been through a great terror and wished only to recover. Do any of you doubt the intentions of the members of the Wise Trio?¡±

    No one retorted Crane. No one spoke. Crane had complete control of their focus, and it was all strained towards his words. ¡°Now that we are assured of Miss Lumi¡¯s welfare, she has offered us important information that all of you must hear.¡± He turned towards Lumi. ¡°I believe it¡¯s your turn, Miss Lumi.¡±

    Lumi stepped forward, everyone¡¯s gaze shifting to her. They were enraptured, utterly fascinated by what lay before them. It was as if this Lumi held the whole world in her hands.

    And how could they not react like this? After all, standing in front of us is a Seer, the tribe that speaks prophecies. Those that see the past and future in full display.

 Guide #1: Tribes (1)

    Naiads

    The Tribe with the second largest population, they¡¯re the center point for trade amongst the other tribes. With abilities that allow them to control water, Naiads inhabit settlements built along rivers or large bodies of water. In the present day, they act as the peacekeeper for the tribes, serving as negotiators or a third-part in negotiations.

    The way a Naiad controls water varies with the individual. There is no universal foundation for using their abilities; instead, their ability is formed around their understanding of water. If a Naiad thinks of water as a lifeless substance that flows from one place to another, they can master diverting and using water as a tool. If a Naiad sees water as some sort of living thing, they have an easier time shaping water and using it creatively, but can lose control.

    Naiads are often described as graceful, due to their slim physique and natural balance. They¡¯re not as physically strong as other tribes, but they are among the most nimble and coordinated

    For the most part, Naiads look human. The key differences in their appearances are their markings, eyes, and hair. Naiads have patches of color that vary from their actual skin tone, kind of like a dusting of powder sugar on a cake. These markings, along with their hair and eyes, have colors that are on the cool side of the color spectrum, most often blue or purple.

    Current Leader: Violet Zulest

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    Drakonics

    The most militaristic out of the tribes, the Drakonics (often shortened to Drakons) have the strongest fighting force in terms of size and prowess. Their status is linked to their occupation and family standings, with soldiers being among the most respected, below only those of the governing body. In the past, they had a discriminatory hierarchy system, but that has diminished and often left forgotten in the present days, thanks to the demands of recent leaders. Even in the present, fighting is seen as the highest calling to the Drakonics, and their loyalty to their service is near unwavering.

    Their ability to wield fire is strictly trained, due to it being highly dangerous. Drakons can create flames or control those already existing. Along with that, they can control the heat around them and their own body temperature. Their ability is closely tied to their emotional state. If a Drakon is angered, the air around them can heat up or sparks may appear on their body. If a Drakon is grieving or unhappy, conjuring flames can be difficult.

    Drakons are a branch of tribes with extra limbs, being their tails and wings. Drakons¡¯ wings are scaled and leathery, their massive size making them the largest out of any winged tribe. Their scales spread from the base of their wings, covering their shoulders and running down their arms and back until fading away to skin near their elbows and waist. Sometimes, their pupils are slitted or a starburst, but that¡¯s very rare. Their eye and scale color are those from the warm side of the color spectrum.

    Physical, Drakonics are some of the largest of the tribes. They¡¯re often tall and wide, making even regular citizens seem imposing. Their soldiers are built for battle, often being the largest members of the tribe and muscular. Due to their wings, they wear shirts or tunics with open backs, or sometimes no top at all. Despite their size, they are very polite and mind their manners with guests or other tribes.

    Current Leader: Fireforged Sulpherwing

    A/N: The Drakonics used to be called Dragonics, but I liked the slightly different name better, so I changed it.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

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    Harpies

    The Harpies are the most populous tribe, but they are dispersed across their territory. Harpies keep their settlements small, having hundreds of condensed living areas instead of massive cities. The Harpies are the only tribe to have a governing body with three leaders, this being the Wise Trio. Each member of the Trio is appointed to maintaining one main aspect of the tribe¡¯s well-being: Tribal Relations, Resources/Expansion, and General Welfare. The Tribal Relations member deals with matters involving other tribes. Resources/Expansion accounts for the resources that the Harpy tribe currently has at its disposal, how to increase productivity, and spearheading new discoveries. General Welfare is often the most popular member of the Harpies, as they¡¯re the one that deals with issues within the Harpy tribe, including education and financial stability. If there is a topic that seems to land within two ranges of authority, then the two members would cooperate. Take trading with another tribe for instance; this would fall into the control of both Tribal Relations and Resources/Expansion.

    Harpies can manipulate the air and wind currents. Their abilities are shaped by their personalities. If they have a big presence and outgoing demeanor, they often lean towards forming large blasts of air and vortexes. If they¡¯re more meek and timid, this Harpy would have more refined control over the smaller details, such as using the wind to move small objects.

    Harpies are often small in stature, but some can be tall. They''re slim and often clumsier on land then they are in the air. They are the most agile flying winged tribe. Their strength isn¡¯t great, but their ability to move in the open air is unmatched.

    Harpies have feathered wings, like those of a bird. Instead of hair, they have feathers on their heads. Like the Drakonics¡¯ scales, their feathers have a similar spread from the base of their wings to their forearms and waist. Harpies have no hair whatsoever. Their feathers can be any color of the spectrum, while their eyes are usually orange, yellow, or green. Other colors can occur but are rarer.

    Current Leaders:

    Tribal Relations: Robin Squal

    Resources/Expansion: Crane

    General Welfare: Gray-Eye Toll

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    Luc-Luc

    This tribe is the most balanced. They aren¡¯t purely militaristic, mediative, or uniquely structured. Luc-Luc have a bad reputation stemming from living in secluded areas, such as canyons or forests. In actuality, the Luc-Luc are one of the friendliest tribes. Their citizens greatly praise creativity and they haven¡¯t had a major conflict in generations.

    The Luc-Luc power is one of the two most unique powers of any tribe: Familiars. Luc-Luc can create beings to serve a purpose. And these creatures can be as unique as the user wants them to be. The most common Familiars are those based off of animals, but some are created based on knights and stories or simply from imagination. Familiars disappear if they sustain too much damage or if their creators grow tired. Sustaining a Familiar takes constant energy, and they¡¯ll shatter if their creator doesn¡¯t have enough to maintain them. Most Luc-Luc express their creativity by giving their Familiars markings or patterns. Markings are easy, but actually creating ambitious Familiars is far more difficult. The more outrageous or extreme the Familiar is, the harder it is to create and maintain. That¡¯s why most Luc-Luc keep their Familiars to animals, which are far easier.

    When it comes to physical prowess, Luc-Luc are rather average. They don¡¯t have remarkable strength or agility. Some are known to be beyond flexible, but that¡¯s the extent. They¡¯re in the middle, and their body types can range to practically any kind. What they lack in this category, they make up for with their remarkable abilities and wit.

    The Luc-Luc are a land-based tribe and prefer places without much sunlight to seek permanent residence. Luc-Luc have scales covering portions of their body, starting from their joints and radiating outwards. Like the Drakonics, these scales eventually pass over to skin. Luc-Luc eyes changed between round and slits based on their current stress levels. They have hair on their heads, but they also have horns, which come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Aside from these, their most notable feature is their lizard-like tail, which is usually slimmer than those of a Drakonic. Luc-Luc tend to have darker colors, most commonly grays and blacks, but can also have undertones of dark shades of purple, red, blue, and green.

    Current Leader: Abyss Spinner