As if to lighten the mood, Efron changed the subject. “Wanna know why revealers are the only dragons with natural gemstones?”
Gretel beamed, curiosity overpowering her previous disappointment. “Yeah!”
He smiled and rested his back against their tree, shifting his weight to one foot. “When I was a hatchling, my grandpa told me that the heavens were a sacred place that only a couple of dragon types lived in, yet even flighted dragons below could never fly high enough to reach it. But if you did manage to get there, you would be rewarded for it substantially.”
“Oh–I know about that! The heavens had hoards of rare gemstones that light dragons collected and restored! Wind dragons are, like, the best at flying, but even we can’t make it that high,” Gretel chimed in. “We do have stories about elites of our kind who made it there, though!”
“Yep! Not only would the ones who make it be given gemstones and an ‘elite’ status, but light dragons could also heal any injuries, and cure any sudden illness with their halos, too! So if someone got hurt or sick on their way to the heavens, they’d be healed and receive a gemstone for their success in reaching it. Some dragons were rumored to visit there for the sake of healing loved ones, and they were gifted even more or rarer gemstones for their selfless motivations–on top of their loved ones getting healed.”
“How does one even make it that far up, though? I’ve tried before, and after a while it gets too hard to breathe.”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Efron replied, seeming thoughtful at that. “In revealers’ tales, some say Zephyr climbed to the tallest mountain in the world just to call out his plea to the heavens in hopes they’d hear him.”
“Climbed? Why not fly?”
“This was before revealers ever had wings,” he replied.
“Wha-a-a-t?! I thought they always had wings!”
“Nope--not until Zephyr made it into the heavens," he replied. "Well, actually, Zephyr didn’t make it to the heavens... on his own, that is. All he managed to do was climb the mountain and hope the light dragons above would hear him. He was desperate, and begged them not for a gem or any elite status; all he wanted was for them to save his ill hatchling.”
Gretel leaned in closer, completely invested. “Did they hear him?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” the violet juvenile answered, his green eyes glistening with childlike admiration for the legendary revealer in his tale. “It’s said that an elite light dragon had descended through the clouds onto the mountaintop, and lifted Zephyr to the heavens. They commended him for traveling so far to the mountain, and his success at climbing such great heights. But the light dragon told him the real reason they acknowledged him was because Zephyr’s heart and motivations were pure.”
“Woah… I wonder if a pure heart is needed to reach the heavens, then, on top of skill?” she pondered. “That would explain why so many skilled wind dragons couldn’t reach it.”
“I never thought about that,” Efron agreed, briefly distracted by considering her words.
“So did they cure his hatchling?” she pressed, eager to hear the rest of the story.
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“Yes, but not just that! When Zephyr finally returned, his hatchling had been cured, and Zephyr had wings–the first any revealer has ever had–and a gemstone that never depleted!” he said, the tip of his Z-shaped tail almost wagging with excitement. “Those traits carried over to future hatchlings of our kind, too, even all across the world!”
“Wow! So now all revealers have them?”
“Yep!” His enthusiasm dwindled as he added, “But there’s a price…”
The wind type hatchling tilted her tapered head. “What was it?”
“Adjustment.” Efron’s green eyes looked back at his small wings. “When revealers first hatch, we don’t have any instinct to use our wings or gemstones… In some cases, our gemstones are active from the second we emerge, using our reveals on anyone nearby without any knowledge or control over it.” He let himself slide his back down the tree to sit under it, then hugged his knees to the lighter violet ventral scales of his chest. “And, of course, our wings don’t fully develop until we’re two years old, so we can’t fly right away, either. Even learning how to fly when we’re old enough is a challenge.”
Gretel fell silent, taking this in. “Would that reveal ability affect your–errrr, I mean, that hatchling’s–parents if they were nearby when hatched…?”
Efron didn’t meet her gaze, but nodded ever-so-slightly in answer. “That’s why we developed the conceal ability–to protect ourselves against other revealers who don’t have control of their gemstone yet. But… if the reveals come from a dragon who’s stronger than the one concealing, well, the stronger one wins. My grandpa told me that not every stronger dragon is nice, though, and that’s the closest reason he would give me for why my family left their old society.”
“Your grandpa sounds nice,” she said, hoping to cheer him up.
“Yeah. He’s the only one who was nice to me before I–” He caught himself.
The tiny wyvern managed to refrain from questioning him, but couldn’t stop her hot pink eyes from widening again with that burning curiosity.
Efron finally faced her and laughed, that sudden shift to lightheartedness despite the lack of glinting from his gemstone leading her to believe he’d used his conceal ability again. “I escaped,” the violet yearling finished his last sentence casually. “My grandpa helped by carrying me across the island to this forest where there was prey and shelter. But he can’t visit because he and I agreed not to let my parents–err, his daughter–find out where I am.”
She felt sympathy for him. “Was that other yearling your cousin, then?”
He recoiled, then apparently remembered that she had outright told him she’d found his ‘society’ the day they met. “Yeah. Apparently, when my family first moved here, it was just my grandpa and his kids–my mom and uncle–and my uncle’s mate from their old society. My cousin was hatched here, and my father was apparently a traveler who settled here after the fact; that’s when I came along.”
Gretel gave a hum to acknowledge him. “What about the rest? If it was your grandpa and his two kids, their two mates, and your cousin, that’s six, not including you.”
“Right, there were two new adults that joined right before I left–making eight besides me. I didn’t get to find out their histories, though.” Efron thought for a moment, then asked her, “You said there were two more?”
“Yeah; two hatchlings around my age. One had a similar violet color to the yearling, and the other looked similar to the pairing that I’m guessing are the ones not related to you.”
“Oh! Makes sense. I’ve only really been gone for maybe five months now. That’s enough time to have hatchlings.” Then he froze as her words fully registered. “Similar to the yearling’s color…? Um… Did they have any kind of… blue color to them…?”
She was confused by his sudden anxiety. “No? Mostly a purplish-red.”
He let out a relieved sigh. “Must be a new cousin, then; my uncle’s mate was red.” His green eyes looked toward the highlands across the island. “I… kinda wish I could meet them…”
“I could go check on them for you, if you want,” Gretel offered.
“N-No!” he shut her down, but the sharpness in his voice stemmed from fear more than anything. “If you get too close, you could be trapped by their reveals--just like our prey!”
“I can see pretty far, so I don’t have to get close to tell you how they’re doing,” she assured him.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter! Powerful revealers have great range for their reveals, too–it’s not worth risking your life over…!”
Gretel opened her mouth to protest, but the sheer panic in his eyes was enough for her to trust that this was a bad idea. She sighed. “Okay… I won’t go there.”