Razortail was nervous. He felt slightly shaky and jittery, and he couldn’t stop his tail from lashing.

He was always nervous when walking to the assassin camp, and he had no idea why. He liked it there.

But when walking through the Jungleswamp, Razortail felt vulnerable. Exposed.

Like he was being watched.

They walked through the dense canopy of green trees, staying away from any toxic or carnivorous plants.

Lotus was incredibly talented in spotting these plants, pointing out ferns and bushes Razortail hadn’t even known were poisonous. And he knew his plants, having to use several in his assassin venoms.

They had chosen not to fly through the Jungleswamp, because they never knew who could spot them or if they were well coordinated together. Lotus didn’t seem to mind—in fact, she appeared to enjoy it. Those weird ForestDragons.

Razortail had to admit, the Jungleswamp looked different when walking straight through it. The frog noises and bugs buzzing around were louder, and the weird flying lizards that inhabited the Jungleswamp were everywhere. Razortail saw them on tree trunks, eating the giant spiders, and protecting their eggs with ferocity and much sass.

“HIIISSSSSSSS,” one told him, baring its tiny, cute teeth in a growl. It flared its wings and tail, rearing up on its hind legs. Its neck started to bulge, similar to a frog.

It looked very smug.

Razortail did not like it.

He bared his own teeth at the little creature, and its neck flap deflated like a frog who lost its croak. It promptly fell backwards off of the branch it had been perched on. Razortail thought he heard a little “oomph”.

Those weird lizards.

Razortail sighed. Weird lizards, weird ForestDragons. The only thing in Razortail’s world that wasn’t weird was himself.

And even that was a lie, with all of his stunted, deformed, disabilities.

“Cheer up!” Lotus bumped his wing with her smaller one. He disliked direct contact from other dragons, but steeled himself and managed to tolerate it. Barely.

“How in all the green, sticky swamps did you know that I was sad?” Razortail asked incredulously. “I’m always grinning!”

“If I’m your new therapist, then I need to do my job right!” Lotus said breezily.

“Wait….wait, wait, wait—hold up a minute,” Razortail said, pausing. He lifted a claw. “Let me get one thing clear: You are not my therapist. You are my PET.”

Lotus shrugged. “Can’t I be both?”

She left Razortail in the dust, sputtering, and ran up ahead with spring in her step. He hurried to catch up with her before she choked on her rope.

Razortail ducked his head thoughtfully for a moment. “Can you…you know…discern what I’m really feeling?”

Lotus studied him with her fiery green eyes. One of them had a slightly amber hue. “You are an interesting dragon, Razortail,” she said. “You amaze me time and time again. The true answer to that question, though, is that I truly do not know. I just have a hunch, and that hunch proves to be right. With that big grin on your face one hundred percent of the time, you hide your emotions pretty well—without even trying. Some dragons—specifically, royalty—would love to have that ability.” She sighed and dragged her tail on the ground as they walked.

“Wait,” Razortail said, feeling slightly flattered and a lot better, “You’re royalty?”

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” Lotus said, her voice light but forced. “Yeah, my dad is the leader of all the ForestDragons. Or at least, the main clan, the Plantgrowers.”

Razortail had a feeling that she had hidden that information on purpose.

“There are more of you?” he questioned. He wanted to know all he could about ForestDragons.

“Yeah,” Lotus answered. “There are three clans: The Treewatchers, the smallest clan, are charged with protecting three ancient trees that are said to have magical powers. The Caregivers, the middle clan, are charged with caring for a large animal that lives here and is also said to have magical powers. Then, last of all, there’s my clan—the Plantgrowers. That one is the biggest.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Let me guess,” Razortail said dryly. “You grow plants that have magical properties.”

Lotus blushed. “ForestDragons are knowledgeable,” she excused. “Not very creative, sadly. But yeah, we do. Three plants: The Iris, the Moonflower, and…” she sighed. “The Lotus.”

Razortail stared at her. “Wait—”

“I know. I was named after it,” Lotus said. Razortail didn’t understand why she looked so glum. When she caught him looking, she explained, “We have ‘name-givers’ in each clan. They can predict the future, supposedly. My name means that I’m supposed to do something great in my life. Now everyone expects that out of me, and I hate it.”

“Well, you don’t have to suffer that now,” Razortail said. Lotus looked at him in confusion, and he smirked. “You’re my pet, remember?”

She smirked with him. “I guess you’re right.” She looked into the distance. “The clans used to be together, you know. But that was before we went hidden.”

“You guarded some of the most powerful forces of nature,” Razortail realized. “That would make you a pretty powerful tribe. So what drove you away?”

Lotus picked a leaf off of a nearby mint bush and began chewing it. “I don’t know,” she said around the leaf. “Some books that I’ve read say that the BloodDragons drove the ForestDragons into hiding, but I don’t think that’s true. We have the deadliest venom of any tribe, and we had the Trees, the Animal, and the Plants.”

“It must’ve been something bigger,” Razortail said thoughtfully, staring into the trees. Then he saw movement among them.

“Quick, hide!” he hissed to Lotus, poking her with his stunted tail. She quickly turned invisible, and Razortail turned to meet the newcomers.

“Agent Facemask!” one of them exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise! You’re late.”

“I had business to attend to, Hunter,” Razortail answered.

“Ooh, official business?” the other one, called Slasher, mocked. “What you call business, I call being L-A-Y-Z-E-E.”

“You spelled lazy wrong, Slasher,” Razortail snorted. Along with being incredibly annoying, both of them were incredibly dull. They were his least favorite assassins in the creed. He had always wondered how they even made it in.

Slasher flicked his tail and grunted. “Come on,” he growled. “The Chief is making an announcement. It’s an All-Call.”

“We haven’t had one of those in years,” Razortail remarked as he followed Hunter and Slasher, gently tugging Lotus’s invisible cord to signal to her.

An All-Call was a summoning of every member of the Wings of Warfare, what the creed was called. Razortail had only been to one in his life. He was certain the creed had more members now.

They speedwalked through a well-hidden trail to the center of the Jungleswamp. The trees were so thick here that flying was impossible, which worked in favor of Razortail and Lotus.

After a few minutes, Razortail could hear the sound of voices—slightly muffled by all of the vegetation.

They emerged into a large clearing, a platform dominating the middle of it. BloodDragons milled about and chattered, casually showing off weapons and new venoms. Of course, most BloodDragons just used the venom in their tails. However, there were ways to make the venom more deadly.

“Agent Facemask!” one of the BloodDragons exclaimed. “Well, well, well! Been a while, hasn’t it?” She slapped him on the back.

Now that Razortail thought about it, maybe the Chief had called him Facemask because of the fact that he was always grinning.

“Creya!” Razortail said. Creya was his favorite assassin. She was big, burly, and merciless, but had been his trainer when he was little. She had a soft side for him.

He and Creya chatted for a few minutes, talking about newly discovered venoms and even more dangerous weapons that BloodDragons had made to help them in the war.

Then, Razortail felt a tug on his wing. He excused himself and then walked over to a secluded area of the clearing.

“Yes, Lotus?” He hissed quietly.

“You didn’t tell me you worked for assassins!” Lotus said vehemently in his ear. “You kill other dragons for a living?”

“It pays well,” Razortail excused. “And I’m good at it. what did you expect a freak like me to do?”

“You are not a freak,” Lotus responded. He heard her mutter something under her breath like, “Great. Now I’m friends with a murderer. Just great.”

“I’ve only killed, like, seven hundred dragons!” Razortail said, trying to be quiet. “Creya has killed numberless dragons!”

“Sven hundred?” Lotus whispered. “That’s considered mass murder! And that’s no excuse! You don’t do something just because everyone else is doing it! Razortail, you have to quit!”

“I don’t have to!” Razortail retorted. “Lotus, you don’t know what they do to dragons who quit!”

“Fine, fine. I don’t doubt that they do horrible things.” There was a paused, like Lotus was thinking hard. “Alright. I’ll support you in whatever you do, Razortail. I’ll prevent you from turning evil, ok?”

“Fine.” Razortail turned to the center of the clearing, where there was a raised stage. He was truly glad that Lotus was on his side. He didn’t want to force her through anything. He felt a large weight come off his chest, like he was finally sharing part of some burden he’d had his entire life. It felt good.

That feeling diminished slightly when a voice rang out through the clearing.

“Welcome, welcome to the Wings of Warfare! New recruits, old timers, all welcome!” A BloodDragon stalked on stage. It was Clawmaker, also known as the Chief, or just Chief. She was the leader of the Wings of Warfare. Beneath a cheerful and friendly outside, she was terrifying and dreadfully smart. Her scarlet scales glimmered in the sunlight, showing black stripes on her sides and wing webbing. Her claws, spikes, horns, and tail barb were all black. The only part of her that was white was her face, which was oddly colored like a skull. Razortail had at first thought it was tattooed on, but her scales were just arranged that way. Her underbelly was blood-red, and her eyes glittered yellow.

“You may have all been wondering why I summoned an All-Call. Well, I have a special mission for all of you!”

She paused for dramatic effect, then grinned sinisterly.

“Did you think I was going to tell you now? Of Course not! First, I want you all to get to know each other better.” She turned around and started walking off of the stage, despite the numerous murmurs and outraged exclamations going through the crowd.

“I will tell you all tomorrow,” Clawmaker said firmly. Then she grinned. "For now...try not to kill each other."