Denziu landed with a gentle thump outside of zir stone house in the mountains of Nidrio. Zir home in these verdant peaks overlooked the lowlands of Denxalue, a short flight away. Though outsiders saw the lands below as nothing but a swamp-pit of mud dragons, Denziu was determined to prove otherwise.

The good vrash and vashael of Denxalue, who eked out a living catching fish, gathering plants, and digging up bog iron, were more than just “mudgons”. In this flying wagon Denziu would pack away the proof: Great big pots with exquisite designs, tall pots with glasslike surfaces and beautiful paints on their twice-fired surfaces.

For years now zie had collected and stored the pots in zir backroom, the dust kept off of them by protective cloth. The dust in the room was gently stirred and swept out by the moving gusts of wind that followed Denziu’s every step whenever zie entered with a new pot for the collection. Now, at last, Denziu had acquired eight of the finest ceramics in Denxalue, scrounged from the swamp village markets.

Each pot made the craft of the local pottergons shine and defied the reputation of Denxalue’s villages as places where foolish dragons wasted their potential by wallowing in the mud. Sure, Denziu zirself wasn’t averse to a bit of a mud wallow, but zie could tell that these pots were denied their fair value. Merchantgons who passed through Denxalue were too derisive to pay high prices for even the best of what the pottergons produced.

None accepted Denxalue’s pots as art.

That would change.

Zie had felt foolish many times, slowly gathering overlarge, painted ceramics zie did not use and did not want to be stuck with. They were storage pots, which compounded the sense of taking on an error. Yet they should never have been priced as though they were only for grain storage! Every one of them was beautifully brushed with a scene from Denxalue or a nearby theome, unique and worthy of display.

One of the pots had a depiction of Lauvera, the Land God of Denxalue, wrapped around it. She was grotesque, a bloated and ugly dragon who very much wallowed in the mud, but that was how she incarnated. Another one had a portrayal of weeping willows in a swamp. Yet another, two lines of dragons racing around the pot forever. Here was one of a vashael dragon poling a boat through a swamp. There was one of a vrash dragon implausibly surrounded by contented animals. The bright scene on the next pot was not of Denxalue, but of Zyrine to the south, where the strange god-sigil Raul burned bright in the sky above the great city’s skyline. Denziu’s favourite pot had a panorama circling the pot of the sleepy village of Badyen from the western side of Denxalue. The last of the pots was nothing but a floral pattern, but it was a very large pattern over a very large pot.

A little pewter placard fitted into each pot’s wooden stopper, and into each of the little placards Denziu zirself had struck the name of the artist as well as the month and year in which it was made. A sense of accomplishment set in as zie wrapped the newest painted vessel.

These pots were part of Denxalue's history, and soon everyone would know their value.

The pottergons--the artists--didn't know how good their products were. They’d brushed storage pots as though they were just brushing pots to practice on them. So Denziu got the finest pots of Denxalue for a low price, and curated a collection intended for a destination that would make it all worthwhile: Hydalath!

Far to the frozen north, Hydalath's teeming ten-thousands of dragons would surely include dragons who would love to buy decorative pottery at high prices from a distant theome. Denziu felt sure that Hydalath, a continent away and on the other side of three mountain ranges, would have no idea that Denxalue was considered a pit. Zie also had the vague impression that prices for fine art usually increased with distance. Or was that uniqueness? Zie would for certain be the only merchantgon with art-pottery from Denxalue.

Denziu would make sure that they were loved in Hydalath. More importantly, zie would then bring back the tale to the artists who produced them. While other merchantgons were deriding the pottergons of Denxalue into unfair low prices, Denziu would break the spell by revealing that the finest of these pots were truly objects of fine art!

Denziu left zir pottery storage room giddy with excitement. Soon--finally!--zie would join the next caravan to the north.

Later that afternoon, Denziu flew to zir sibling Taltios’ patio. Taltios had lived for some time in Tekagol, a floodplain under the auspices of the land god Baggil, and zie would know if Denziu’s plan to purchase a luck charm for the journey was a good idea.

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The two dragons were out on a simple wooden patio. Taltios’ patio was blessedly covered, as the rain was out as usual. Tekagol never suffered a drought; Baggil preferred to frequently flood it than to ever dry out. It wasn’t entirely accidental how the lands were arranged near each other, and the land gods who preferred to flood lived in places where the rain came to them. As a result, the farmergons of Tekagol often grew rice as well, for they loved thirsty crops that wouldn’t be destroyed by too much water.

The scene was serene. Taltios’ stilted house didn't care if water accumulated underneath it, and zir livestock were swamp lizards who loved flooding. The rain was beautiful to listen to. To look at, too. The rain rolling off the leaves of trees, the trees themselves as they bent in the gusting wind, the occasional flash of lightning and distant roll of thunder…

The two dragons’ tails sprawled over the planks as they sat to each side of a table. Denziu, beige-scaled with a tawny pattern painted on. Taltios, a patternless red-scaled vashael of burly muscles. They shared the ‘zie’ pronoun, for the land goddess Praoziu (who was their mother) had chosen to make them both hermaphrodites. Privately, Denziu thought Taltios’ rugged looks were bent masculine.

The vrash-like armour that Taltios wore didn’t help. Burly Taltios, bigger than Denziu, bigger than most vashael, and all-over covered in that frightful vrash armour with Baggil-knows-what enchantments on it...Denziu thought that armour looked dreadfully uncomfortable, but to the vrash farmergons of Tekagol wearing their armours showed their strength and wealth. They nearly all wore armour and they nearly always had. The vashael of Denxalue weren’t known to wear such armour. It emphasised Taltios’ strength, and zie loved that armour. Denziu found it intimidating.

Intimidating as zie was, this great red farmergon was Denziu's favourite dragon in Tekagol, and zir opinion mattered.

Two bowls of early Shaleara cider sat between them as well as a clay jug with more if they wanted it. ‘Early’ Shaleara cider was barely alcoholic, so it was drank for flavour and hydration. Swamp-loving Shaleara fruit grew native in this region and formed one of Tekagol’s better cash crops.

Denziu toasted zir sibling with the cider bowl. “This’ll be the farthest I’ve been away from home. I plan to join a Tekagoli caravan and pick up a luck charm with Baggil’s blessing as well. That’s supposed to mean a safe return.”

“Yes,” Taltios agreed. "But Baggil’s blessing comes at a price. I think you're going to lose some pots.”

Denziu sighed. The cost of a safe return would be some of those precious pieces of art?

So did the guarantee for safety on the upcoming journey.

"It'll be the farthest I've ever been from home," Denziu finally continued, after zie'd lingered a while over zir cider. "I think losing a few pots is worthwhile."

"I agree," said Taltios. "I'm just warning you. Having lived in Tekagol a few years, I can tell you you'll come back richer than you set out, but only just."

Which was tolerable, Denziu thought. If zie turned only a small profit, zie would also come back richer by experience. "I want to see for myself some of the things along the way. Like the vertical homes of Atney, with two dozen dragons living in each one and sky bridges between them. Or the great canal of Xanasal, where the land god opens and closes a sea connection daily between the ocean and Lake Smaril.” Denziu said, remembering a few of the things zie had read about in the Querent-Querent library at Zyrine.

"With that attitude, you might lose all the pots," said Taltios, a frown on that great red-scaled face. The larger dragon snorted, and shook zir head. "Or nearly all of them. You've somewhere safe to come back to, Denziu. Baggil might treat all the money you put into this as 'a small loss'."

Denziu stared in shock. All of the pots? "Is it that bad an idea to buy a Tekagoli luck charm before setting out?" zie asked.

"No, not necessarily. I'm just warning you to keep your expectations low if you do. Baggil wants dragons to persist at things, wherever they go in Theoma. If you buy that charm, we'll not fear for your safety, but a love of travelling will cost you. You might have to do this three times to show a profit worth the journey. Because of persistence, you see."

Somewhat rankled by Taltios’ persistent warnings, Denziu lifted zir bowl to drain the cider. When zie'd finished it, zie spoke. "I've got Denxalue's history in this collection. Lauvera will rage at Baggil on my behalf if Tekagol's land god destroys Denxalue's finest pots of five decades."

"Then you'll have worse luck some other way. Baggil is sadistic at first, Denziu. That's how everyone feels when they first try to commit to Tekagoli luck. You'll be saddled with something you hate. It'll take time to find the silver lining," Taltios said, zir words pressing on Denziu.

"But it will work,” Denziu pressed back.

Taltios sighed. “Of course.”

“Then I'm doing it anyway.” Zie didn't feel the bravado, but zir safety in this voyage mattered more than zir profit margins.

"If you’re that set on it, I've got something you'll need. Walking all day is going to be harder than flying, so stay here." With these gruff words, Taltios pushed up from the table and walked into zir house. Shortly after, zie came back bearing a traveller's armband, and insisted again that Denziu take it.

Denziu left with a leather band around zir right bicep, and could already feel how much lighter it made zir footsteps.