The sun cast his light upon the prairies and streams far east of the snow-capped mountains of Ramspear. Beyond the gleaming meadows teeming with new life and bursting with color, a cliff rose a mile high from the sea of Calipso. Water burst upon the rock face, sending swirling eddies back to the ocean as it fought with the rock for dominance.

A large creature winged across the skies, darting past the white mist created by the tides. Most would call her a bird, yet, if one were to look close enough, her wings were too large, her tail too long, and her feather much different. Her coloring, also, brought to mind something other than a bird. Her black scales shimmered a raven-like onyx in the sunlight, but along her chest and stomach were pinpricks of gold, silver, and rosy hues that made her almost seem like she had stars along her underbelly. Twin horns rose from the ridges above her brow, twirling on top of her head and glittering in multi-hued pastel colors as if they were prisms catching sunrays.

Black feathers along her neck bristled as they caught the wind and her wings glided upon gusts of wind she followed and rode on instinct.

Her destination lay before her. The Spiralis, as the two-legged creatures called it. But she knew not of it by such a name, she merely knew she needed the help of her kin if her new Bond were to survive to meet the coming spring. She once thought herself too proud to return to the land of her youth. Her mate had convinced her to leave her family and her home to make for new lands they could claim as their own. An adventure with just the two of them, spreading their wings far and wide.

But in the coming years, she had wished many times for the support of her clan. Her Father had forbidden the mated pair from leaving, and so they had snuck out in the night, not leaving a trace of where they were going or when they would return.

That lead to years of bondage. She didn't know then what her mate would become when he got her isolated. No, her heart had beat fast in her chest with promises of adventure. While one side of her heart had scolded her for choosing to leave her clan, the other side wanted what her mate promised. His wings were fast, his jaws strong and steady. He could care for her. It would be fun.

She shook the memories with a shudder of her wings, dust and dandruff and a few black feathers left behind in the next wingbeat. It had been many years, perhaps centuries, since she had been welcomed to this place.

Would they even know her?

She shook the uncertainties from her mind by snorting out a ball of flame, the heat cleaning the meat she had caught in the prairies from her teeth.

It was time to return to the dragon clans.

It was time to go home.

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Nova reached the peak of her climb in the frosty blue sky, curling her body as she fought the winds whirling around her, trying to tear her from her destination. Clouds were absent in the winds of the Spiralis, seemingly beat into nothingness above the whirling, white-capped waters.

The Spiralis lay directly beneath her, a swirling maelstrom where the eye was five times her size but looked like the eye of a pin from this height instead of the three-mile-wide blackness that sailers told tales of and parents warned children to stay close to shore, or else the Spiralis would take them, never to be seen again.

If only the humans knew the truth.

Nova pulled her wings tight, shooting straight down like an arrow, aiming for the heart of darkness. Wind tried to beat her off course to send her spiraling into death among the swirling white rapids, but she held tight to her course and tightened her wings to prevent them breaking as wind struck like giant balistae against her sides and neck, buffeting her from side to side.

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A few moments more. She could see the star-like whispers of her home, smell the welcoming warmth of her clan. She tucked her wings flat to her body and dove through the black opening.

An eye blink and she was through, but the danger was not over. One might think that the Spiralis was done once through, but the whirlpool on one side was mirrored by a whirlpool on the other, one that was just as strong. But here, the water was a glimmering purple instead of the blue of Avidon. Nova pushed hard against the wind until she was through the other side of the whirlpool's ceaseless winds, then she leveled off as clouds of cotton touched her snout and twirled through her wings.

She spread her wings to catch a drift, looking through eyes of wonder to see such beauty as she had told her hatchlings of for oh so long. Dream after dream, she never believed she would ever live so long past her bondage and duty to return. She took a breath through her nostrils, letting the scents welcome her as her soul settled for the first time in many years.

Home.

Dragons were different than many creatures of the worlds. They were creatures of all worlds yet also creatures of none. It’s said dragons date back to pre-division, when the worlds traded and lived with peace. Before the tides of jealousy and hate drove a wedge between the four worlds until the Alfather was forced to sever the ties.

Dragons were once the mounts of world-travelers. Once said to open portals between worlds… now even dragons know not if the histories speak true. But one thing was certain. Dragons may not be able to open portals as they once did, but they still used portals.

Two dragons rose from the depths of the cliffs, twin moons shining high above the glimmering whirlpool she had just rose from. Their horns glimmered in the moonlight, one with three and the other with four. Their manes of feather bristled as their lips pulled into silent snarls.

They flanked her, ensuring she could do nothing but follow their lead.

The purple ocean below gave way to trees that looked ever different from Avidon. Not entirely opposite, and yet one might be tempted to call it such, but it was more in the detail. The leaves on the trees were an emerald green instead of the darker green of the spring growth popping out on Avidon. The cliff sides were not the dark grey and red rock, they were a strange grey that gleamed an almost silvery-blue in the light of the sister moons with layers of purple and white.

The trees themselves were also shaped differently, with gem-like fruits and flowers that would burst upon the tongue with flavors never before told on Avidon. But deadly creatures hid in those beautiful fronds and swaying purple limps. Deadly plants dragons learned to fear. Creatures with venom strong enough to paralyze a Berserk. And other two-legged sorcerers even the Masters would fear.

Nova felt the displeasure of both her guides as she banked to a canyon where the Elders held their meetings, yet beneath it was a curiosity. Few left through the portal. Fewer still ever returned.

And they could sense the return of one of their own. It was a beacon buried beneath her time away, but still shone through the darkness around it. She couldn’t hide that this was her home any more than she could leave her two-legged savior to face his war alone.

A burst of energy at the through propelled through a mighty snap of her wings and she drove ahead of her two guards. They showed not the displeasure she felt through their flame. Not as the two-legs showed their emotions, whether they were happy or sad, she had learned the minute expressions and the way the eyes would tell all, whether in a squinting for happiness or a pinching of the lips for displeasure, their faces showed so much. And this somewhat made her feel a sort of hurt high in her chest that she could not describe. She pictured a face she’d left behind, one she knew had faced worse bondage than her own, and yet he took the time to see her. To free her.

And she missed him.

Roland.

That was what the other two-legs called him.

Dragons did not have names, not exactly. They had soul-imprints that each dragon recognized and could call out to. Just as she spoke in images and feelings, so too did dragons feel each other in impressions and feelings. They knew each other on a soul deep level and so didn't need names.

And just as she felt the displeasure on either side of her, she also knew she grew up with these dragons in these very skies. She had tumbled through these skies playing with these two as hatchlings, and the one with the four horns had once stolen her kill for his own and she roasted his tail feathers in retaliation.

They were her cousins, but dragons didn’t keep up with siblings and mothers and fathers. They were of the clan, and the King and Queen were their Mother and Father and all in the clan were brother and sister.

Family ties meant less than the strength of the clan. Loyalty to the clan came first.

And she broke that when she snuck off with another clan’s prince to seek her own skies and hunt her own lands.

Unease bubbled within her and she snorted smoke into the sky as her mane bristled.

Would they welcome her back?