Fathom laid on his bed of furs and soft things, spines flattened as he wondered what to do.

He had very clearly broken his promise.

It wasn’t important that he’d done it unintentionally, he’d broken the chronometer which was clearly more valuable to Pryce than any of the other beautiful things he’d given him; this was the only one that moved on its own, as if it were alive.

But Fathom was confused by Pryce’s stilted behavior; he had expected him to be furious, but there was no elevated heartbeat, no slight reddening of the color of their skin, no smell of that ‘sweat’ which humans seemed to produce when they experience physical exertion or emotional stress.

Instead, the human had acted like a hollow shell in comparison to his usual self. It was almost like the human did not care, but he was clearly distressed; why else would he ask to go back so suddenly?

He stood up and padded outside to take to the skies; a broken promise must be rectified.

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Fathom landed on the deck of the ship cautiously; it was the first time he had done so without Pryce to greet him. The circumstances made him feel like he was intruding, but he shook the feeling off as he waited. It took a few minutes, but Fathom could hear him moving around the ship, so he knew that Pryce was on his way.

The human in question…did not look good, even in Fathom’s limited experience. The skin under his eyes was darker, his eyelids drooped, and his shoulders were hunched instead of straight-backed, but perhaps the most important difference was how he dragged his feet as if he were half-asleep.

“Good morning,” he said.

Fathom withheld a response about how it did not seem like a ‘good’ morning, instead with a great effort he opened the bag to pull out Pryce’s gifts.

“I don’t want these,” Pryce said, shaking his head.

Fathom ignored him and set the mirror, coins, bottle, and marble onto the deck of the ship despite how it pained him to do so, then he handed what was left in the bag to Pryce, which he reluctantly accepted to look inside.

“I don’t want this either,” Pryce said, setting the gift back on the deck and pushing it towards Fathom with his foot.

“But…why?” Fathom had expected this response to some degree, but he simply could not understand how anyone could refuse things that were once theirs, yet alone the rare and beautiful things he had put into the bag.

“I don’t need them,” Pryce said simply, giving a tired shrug. “If this is about yesterday, don’t worry about it – what I meant was; you don’t need to give things back to me, you don’t need to do things because you break chronometer.”

“But I promise you that I be careful, and I was not careful. When dragon break promise, they must do…this,” Fathom said, gesturing at the items on the deck.

Pryce paused, then said, “Alright, I’ll take it back.”

Fathom felt almost as distressed as he was relieved to be losing the treasures, though he-

“And now I give them back to you,” Pryce said.

“You…can’t do that?” Fathom said, though he was so bewildered that it sounded more like a question.

“Why not? I told you, I have no use for these things.”

“I..” Fathom trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Let’s do something else today, maybe you can teach me more about the animals here?”

“…yes,” Fathom said reluctantly, unwilling to argue. It was strange, Pryce had said not to worry about it, which based on the context of the other things he said had meant he considered the broken promise forgiven, and he was free to take the treasures back…so why did he feel so discontented?

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Fathom told Pryce about the animals he had talked about earlier in greater detail, as well as other new species that were lesser threats but still dangerous to a human. Normally their conversation flowed easily, but today Pryce was so stiff and wooden that Fathom had to put in a great effort to carry out the discussion.

“Sometimes big fish live in river, but…I do not know if they eat things like humans…” Fathom said uncertainly.

“Okay,” Pryce said, taking notes.

“Animals that look like crocodiles also live in water, sometimes live on ground near water.”

“Okay.”

“…These animals that look like crocodiles look slow, but they are faster than humans.”

“Okay.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“…Why are you not mad?” Fathom asked, unable to bear the stilted conversation any longer.

“What?” Pryce asked, looking up at this non-sequitur.

“I break your things, you are not mad, you are not sad, you are…like this?” Fathom said, gesturing at Pryce. “Why?”

Pryce shrugged. “It’s my mistake anyway, if I did not want you to break it, I should not have given it to you. I knew you do not know how smooth metals are, so it is not your mistake, it is mine-”

“No, this is stupid!” Fathom hissed.

Pryce blinked, a little alarmed by the hostile display. “Er…what?”

“People get sick and die, you say is your mistake, crew get sick and die, you say is your mistake, I break chronometer, break promise, you say is your mistake! You make no sense!” Fathom ranted, causing Pryce to take an involuntary step back. The dragon calmed after finishing this short tirade, then said tiredly, “I…I do not understand…”

They were both silent afterwards for some time.

“I…guess I’m just used to being responsible for everything,” Pryce admitted. “On the mainland, I do many things to learn about antibiotics, many people do work for me, many people do things I say, so if something goes wrong, then that is because I made mistake.”

“…I do not understand this, but it…makes sense,” Fathom said slowly. “…this still does not explain why chronometer is important to you. I know Chronometer is important to you, it measure time, but…I do not understand, Chronometer can’t measure time now, why do you have it?” Fathom asked, pointing at the pocket that held the broken device.

“I…it’s important to me,” Pryce said, his voice trembling an imperceptible amount.

“Why?” Fathom pressed.

Pryce sighed, and closed his eyes. “My friend, Max Wright made it and gave it to me. That’s why it has the words ‘Wright Chronometer’ on it.”

Fathom had thought Pryce said that it was the ‘Right Chronometer’, so only now did the full realization of what he had done weigh upon him. Dragons did not quite have the same concept of friendship as humans, but Fathom still knew Wright was someone very important to Pryce, and someone who had made something as amazing as the chronometer and given it to Pryce.

Someone whom Pryce had failed to protect.

Someone with whom Pryce had broken a promise.

“Come with me,” Fathom said, picking up Pryce’s bags – which still laid on the deck where he had left them yesterday – and Pryce himself in his other foreclaw.

“What are you-” Pryce’s protests were cut off by Fathom’s powerful leap into the sky.

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“Euugh,” Pryce said, kneeling on all fours as he suppressed the urge to vomit. Fathom had flown much faster than he had yesterday, though Pryce suspected he was still restraining himself for Pryce’s sake.

“Wait here,” Fathom said, marching into his home.

This request was somewhat pointless as Pryce could not have moved much even if he wanted to. After a few minutes his breath steadied and his nausea faded, enabling him to stand up. What was it that he said which seemed to upset Fathom so much? That Wright made the chronometer? But he already told Fathom –

He smacked his face in realization; of course, it was a homonym. Fathom probably thought it was ‘right’ because it could rightly tell time or something, or he could have just assumed it was a strange human name. Pryce stood waiting for several minutes until Fathom returned, carrying something in his left foreclaw as he hobbled forward on three limbs.

The dragon set down something on the ground, then pulled his arm away to reveal the iridescent ammonite.

“This is…the ammonite Abyss gave you,” Pryce said breathlessly.

“Yes,” Fathom said, bowing his head. “I break your most important thing, so I give you my most important thing.”

“It wasn’t my most important thing,” Pryce dissuaded, not wanting to accept such an important gift.

“Then give me chronometer,” Fathom demanded.

“W-What? No!” Pryce said, the refusal coming out before he could think.

“Chronometer is broken, but you keep chronometer because it is important to you,” Fathom said, completely outmaneuvering Pryce. “Do not tell me lies. If this is not your most important thing, what is?”

When Pryce could say nothing, Fathom bowed his head deeply, and said solemnly, “I am apologize.”

The silence lasted for a few moments until Pryce chuckled, causing Fathom to whip his head up in surprise and confusion.

“It’s ‘I apologize’, or ‘I am sorry’,” Pryce explained.

Fathom huffed, hiding his relief behind exasperation. “Human language is so complicated.”

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“I’m still not going to take it,” Pryce said, a few minutes later.

“What? Why?” Fathom demanded; He thought they had just resolved this issue.

“I have no use for it. I might want to study it later, but not now, and it’s important to you,” Pryce said.

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I forgive you. It really was an accident, and to tell the truth; maybe the chronometer was too much of a reminder for me. You are right, I should move on, at least a little.” Pryce looked at the scratched and dented device for a few seconds, then darted his gaze between chronometer and dragon a few times.

“What?” Fathom said, peering at the chronometer to see what Pryce was looking at.

“Nothing” Pryce said.

“These words are different from other side,” Fathom noted, “What is the meaning of these words?”

“This is what Max wrote, it says ‘For A. Pry – That sonuvabitch!” Pryce abruptly swore as he realized something.

“You say ‘son of a bitch’ again, what is a ‘bitch’?” Fathom asked, a little irked by Pryce’s evasion.

“It’s…like an insult, but you say it when you are mad or annoyed,” Pryce explained with a huff.

Fathom rumbled; this explanation didn’t explain much at all.

“Max loved to make puns, puns are when you say words that have more than one meaning, or say something funny with words, like when you said, ‘Wright was right’,” Pryce explained when Fathom had asked him to elaborate. “Humans have something called ‘money’ that we use to trade to each other. You can use money to trade for anything like shiny things or food, how much money you need to buy something is a ‘price’, which sounds like my name. I didn’t want him to give this to me for no price, so he made a pun by giving this to me ‘For A. Pryce’,” Pryce groused. “And no, my name is not that price, it’s a different word.”

“So confusing,” Fathom mumbled. “You mad, but you are smiling?”

Pryce realized he was, and immediately wiped it off his face. “It…reminded me of him. He made me angry, but…he has not made me angry in a long time, so that makes me happy.”

“…I think I understand,” Fathom said solemnly. “What the meaning of your name?”

“I…don’t know.”

“How do you not know meaning of your name?”

“It’s an old name and my family name, lots of people don’t know meanings of their names,” Pryce said dismissively. “I can’t get over how that asshole held onto this pun for decades, and I never noticed it because I never read them out loud.”

“Get over what? Asshole? Decades?” Fathom asked, confused by the barrage of new words.

“Oh, sorry. I mean it annoys me a lot, and a decade is 10 years, and an asshole is another insult.”

“You still not tell me the meaning of insults.”

Pryce sighed and opened his mouth, but before he uttered a single word Fathom snapped his head up in the direction of a great roar.