It was a tense day as the dragonkin matriarch of the kobolds and her shamanic kin trudged back to the hidden pocket which their tribe now called home. As much as they were loathe to leave when their final clutch was so close to hatching, the Creator had need of the two of them and they were painfully aware that their duty was much too important to simply ignore. Thankfully, there were benefits to their excursions, clear powerups, the Creator’s favor, and occasionally, an unusual tag-along.
That day was one of those, behind them was an almost forgotten member of their family, the frozen waters dragonkin and his companion, trudging along. His frosty blue scales were already lightly glazed by droplets of water condensed from the humid air, and shards of ice danced in their wake. Behind him, a three-meter-long eel, covered in the same azure scales the dragonkin was, snaked her way through the knee-deep water, keeping pace with the trio. Not that it was difficult, with the pace the ‘leaders’ had set.
The kobold leaders had run into those two mostly by coincidence, guided coincidence but still coincidence, when the Creator had alerted them to something. Of course, they had rallied quickly, even if they could tell that it wasn’t urgent. When they felt their minds become overwhelmed by information and direction, knowledge and thought they knew wasn’t their own shoved deep into them, they knew something happened, something that needed the tribe, if the tribe itself hadn’t already gotten the same ‘message’.
Instead, it was an almost questioning pull, something that let them know that there was something going on and they could probably help, and so they did. When they got to where they were led, they saw a ragged pair of invaders sprinting through their halls, looking over their shoulders with a desperate madness. One was clearly worse than the other, an arm hanging limply and a hole in their leather-clad leg that oozed blood and frigid water from a slowly melting lance of ice.
Behind them, their frosty kin was raging onward, a fresh scar marring his chest, and another crudely healed gouge from the eel’s back. It was painfully easy to see what had happened, and they quickly readied themselves to assist, eager to grant the man his vengeance. Whatever had happened didn’t matter, it was obvious who the guilty party was and the arrival of those made their judgement swift, effective, and merciless.
Hardly a minute later, and the already brilliantly lit hallway now sparkled with the esoteric glitter of a fallen enemy, the victorious reptilians already healed of their wounds and only slightly exhausted. There was a moment of silence between the four, three thinking about what to say and one lacking a mouth or a mind to say anything to begin with. Then the chieftess spoke up, the harsh language they spoke carried over from their time as simpler kobolds and forced to develop rapidly as the speakers did too.
“The clutch hatches soon, will you join?” Spoke the nominal matriarch, as the steaming shaman nodded unconsciously. The boss had needed a moment to think on that, letting the eel idly wind and curl around his waist while he tapped a clawed hand against his chin. Finally he nodded his assent, and spoke, a much more booming noise that flowed just a touch smoother.
“I will, I haven’t seen the Family in… much time. I wish for this to change. Do you lead us home?”
“I lead us home.” Despite him asking his former leader, it was the shaman who answered his question, though none of them found this unusual, it was, after all, the job of the chief to lead the warriors to battle, and the shaman to guide them home in body and in spirit.
During the walk back home, the male dragonkin had plenty of time to think, a hint of worry gnawing away at the back of his mind. Would he be accepted? Would he even be recognized, much less recognize what was supposed to be his family? A great deal of questions were swimming around in his head, and he could do naught but wait for the answers, as he followed the two lesser dragonkin around a final corner, seeing what looked like a large gash in the wall.
It was very different than the last time he had been ‘home’, which wasn’t saying much, as this marked one of, if not the very first visits he’d made to the eleventh floor, and it wasn’t even to visit in the first place. In his mind, it was sheer coincidence that his angry, spiteful chase after the beings who dared to wound him and his partner so grievously led him into his former leaders, and he wouldn’t have even made the chase in the first place had it not been for the Creator’s unconscious assurances that these two were the final invaders of the day, and his presence was no longer required on his floor.
Following those two was equally spur-of-the-moment, and led him to an almost unrecognizable community, even before he could see their tribe proper. The entrance to the village, if one could call it that, was mostly clear, save for an interesting pair of guards. In fact, one could almost overlook the area entirely, as just another dead end, were it not for the unnaturally black stains that marred every available surface, more than likely coming from an equally inky beast. The malformed thing and its apparent partner had been disinterested in the return of the tribe’s leaders, used to the sight of the two coming and going on a regular basis, but upon seeing their new guests, that interest quickly returned.
While the dragonkin and the stained kobold were rather restrained in their appraisal of one another, the kelpie and the eel had no such restraint, perhaps they were feeling challenged that another creature would have the audacity to be so defiantly eel-like in their presence, or just eager to prove their superiority to the other. Whatever the reason, they quickly approached each other another, sizing up their competition. The kelpie had already started breaking down the flesh of its own hindquarters, slithering into a deeper pool with a sort of slick, grotesque grace that seemed directly in contrast with the moray’s own regal showing, deciding to leave a trail of glittering ice billowing in its wake and puffing up a mane of frost it delicately maintained, showing off in a way the dragonkin had never seen before.
As the water around the tribe started to freeze over and taint, however, both the kelpie’s rider and moray’s friend decided enough was enough, and summoned their charges back to their sides, with varying amounts of ease. Throughout the entire tense, underwhelming spectacle, the shaman and the chieftess stood by, not really able to contribute much but not knowing what else they could do. The former let out her own little sigh of relief seeing things calm down without issue, not eager to watch nor to clean the aftermath of a clash between those two, and the chieftess simply waved for the rest to follow her, after an awkward pause.
And follow her they did, all aside from the kelpie and the moray squeezing themselves through the crevasse and into the glaringly bright interior of the tribe. Unlike the outside, however, their village was set up in a very clearly artificial manner, with the corals being trimmed and chiseled into a neat, orderly fashion, with a smattering of tents that some invaders had inexplicably brought in once. Not that they couldn’t fashion their own, but the portable structures were much better put together than the tribe could manage, and the Creator provided more.
Of course, there were two crudely fashioned huts standing in the center of the village, one raised out of the water, the other allowing a few centimeters to flow freely within. It was clear that these were recently made, and the frosty guest correctly guessed that they had relocated for some reason or another not even hours earlier, since even now the two huts were being rebuilt, this time using properly shaped materials rather than whatever rocks they could rip out of the walls or have the Creator bestow upon them.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He wasn’t really able to ponder any further on that, however, when a commotion broke out around the raised hut, and immediately, every kobold, and that one errant drake-kin he’d seen earlier, dropped whatever it was they were doing and raced over, as did the three dragonkin. After all, the message was brief, unexpectedly early, and sudden, but it was painfully clear.
“The first has stirred! They hatch!” Despite the mad dash over to the hatchery, very little effort was needed on the part of the two matriarchs and the visiting oddity to reach the front and join the clutch’s attendant inside. A little bit of bloodline authority and a great deal of earned respect ensured that there were none who stood in their way. Not long after, two more of the tribe joined, that very drake-kin and a kobold he hadn’t paid much attention to, and the dragonkin realized that these were the two expecting parents.
As much as they were all excited to watch their tribe gain a host of new members, it seemed the attendant had been a little hasty in announcing the birth. While it was true that the eggs were going to hatch soon, soon did not mean now, and the tribe watched, with bated breath no less, very little. The eggs shivered and stirred, and the stiff leathery shells bulged and warped, but as the minutes flowed by, none decided to take that leap and break their incubatory prisons.
Their attention was pulled away from the admittedly boring show by a clear, and clearly pouty, voice coming from behind them. It wasn’t in their native tongue but they all understood nonetheless.
“Really you guys? I came here as fast as I could after Aby told me the eggs were hatching, but nobody mentioned that you were keeping them dry this time.” Most of the tribe were simply confused about what it was the Creator’s Partner meant by this, as well as why she decided to grace the birth with her presence at all, but a certain tar-black and sand-yellow kobold near the edge couldn’t help but turn away, embarrassment painted onto her reptilian features.
After mumbling a quick but heartfelt apology, which the Partner immediately dismissed, seeming apologetic herself that her teasing jab was taken so seriously, everyone turned their attention back to the hut, where things were finally picking up. The frozen dragonkin had even opted to wave their newest spectator over near the very front of the hut’s large entrance, freezing and shaping a large block of ice with a large basin of water around her and raising it up, letting her have her own view of the proceedings through the clear walls, unable to contain the small squeal of joy as she thanked the man. Of course, those kobolds who were pushed aside or forced to move to see in weren’t quite so grateful, but neither were they actually upset.
It seemed to be just in time, too, as one of the eggs could no longer contain its struggling contents, and a small, clawed hand punched through the egg. It clumsily tore at the new opening until an equally diminutive head peaked out of the shredded remnants, blinking at the sudden brightness that assaulted its newborn senses. That seemed to be some unknown signal, as not long afterwards the rest of the eggs started undergoing similar events, all the while the firstborn, a kobold, had the egg surrounding it start dissolving into light even as it tried to take a bite of the leathery stuff.
It was startled by the mouthful of nothing that greeted it but shook that confusion off quickly. It looked around, almost intimidated by the many, many eyes now on it, him, and then did what any newborn would do, magically incubated or not. He began bawling, shattering the tense quiet as his mother rushed to scoop him into her arms. While he would grow both in mind and in body very quickly, as evidenced by the last clutch who were already chest-height to most of the rest of the tribe, they were not yet grown, and the next few days or even weeks would more than likely see them needing the exact same coddling the last clutch had gotten.
It wasn’t long before the first cries quieted down, drifting off into sleep as the mother cradled him in her arms. The drake-kin father watched on, and it once more became silent, but rather than an uncertain hush that was holding the tribe hostage, it was now a serene calm which let them all know things had gone, and would go, perfectly.
At least, it was until the next wail cut through the air, and then another, and another still. All told, each of the six eggs had become a crying infant, three kobolds, and three drake-kin, and with each new cry all the rest only seemed to grow even more restless, something odd for the kobolds who were normally quiet not long after being born. Eventually, most of them realized that having drake-kin in the children did something, as even the kobolds of the clutch were very clearly a little bit different than the last few.
However, despite being different than they had expected, they were still kin, and swiftly, there was motion once more, with some returning to whatever it was they had been doing before then but a surprising amount, at least to the frozen dragonkin, rushed to join the two parents in tending to the infants, whatever it was they were doing getting lost on the man shortly thereafter. It was then he turned away, no longer interested now that he knew the Family had grown, safely. He turned to the Partner, who was still watching the newest additions with some curiosity, but like him, most of it had waned now that the event had finished and they had no real roles to fill. He walked down the steps, silently happy to be out of the shack as he still didn’t trust the disordered rock walls or rickety feeling coral and seaweed roof not to collapse.
“Want to come down?” He asked the Partner, once he stood before her, waiting respectfully before she nodded with a happy smile. It took very little effort to undo what he did, and the magically maintained ice sunk slowly and steadily, dispersing once more into the waters around the floor. The only sign he’d done anything to begin with at all was the fact that the waters around the two were frigid, and most of the surrounding tribe had swiftly evacuated after feeling the temperature plummet.
The two then started moving towards the exit, dragonkin deliberately slowing his pace so that the small Nereid had no need to strain herself to keep up with him. Despite that, they’d very quickly left behind the hustle and bustle of the tribes, he wouldn’t admit it, but the looks he was starting to get from not only the two other dragonkin but a few of the other female tribe-members were a little concerning to him. He was already alone more often than not, and somehow, the screaming and crying of newborns just didn’t leave him in the mood for any ‘companionship’ that night.
“Thanks for that, you really didn’t need to do so much for me.” The partner started speaking after they had left the tribe, already walking to one of the entrances to the tenth floor, moray eel dancing between and around the two. The dragonkin would have none of that undeserved gratefulness, however, and immediately replied, with much more seriousness.
“No, I did. Thank you for coming.” He spoke, sincerely glad she chose to show up, and even more so that his decision made her happy.
“It was my pleasure, I’m just happy I was invited to begin with. Still, that was really cool, what you did for me.” She paused, flashing the dragonkin an expectant look, unable to hide a grin, though the man had no idea why. A few seconds passed, and when it became clear that he wouldn’t react, she coughed awkwardly, and spoke once more.
“Anyway,” she dragged the word out, eager to move on, “I really am grateful, I know it was simple and you’re not going to even let me thank you, but I appreciate it still. So thank you…” Her voice trailed off towards the end, and she looked to come to some sort of epiphany as she looked towards the man.
“You know, I didn’t even think of it before now, but I’ve got nothing to call you. That’s really weird actually, it hadn’t even crossed my mind since I named, Named” she spoke that with more emphasis, and the dragonkin could feel the importance of that word, “Carmine. Now that I have thought of it, though, I’d feel really weird if I had to keep calling you, well, ‘you’ or something. You need a name, my friend.” She slowed down then, apparently lost in thought, although the dragonkin wasn’t entirely focused on that anymore. Something about the prospect of getting a name woke something within him, and he could feel his heart pounding, excited and scared and nervous in equal measure.
“Oh! I think I’ve got an idea!” She exclaimed, turning to face him. “You’re king of the tenth floor, right? Aby’s boss of the Arctic Atoll? Why not Arctuross, then?” She sounded nervous towards the end, almost like she was worried that the dragonkin would reject, that he could reject. No, almost as soon as the words left her lips, he was nodding excitedly, struggling not to simply run up and crush her in a hug.
However, that internal struggle only lasted for but a moment, before his mind went blank, and a blindingly bright light burst forth from the dragonkin, from Arctuross, and the last thing he was aware of was the Partner looking on in a dazed concern, his companion writhing and coiling around his legs, and the overwhelming presence of the Creator surrounding him.