Here Be Dragons: Book 1 of the Emergence Series

Helsha sat within his grotto, gazing upon the freshly-planted seeds with a satisfied air.

The herbalist himself rarely ever left his territory, of course, but it wasn’t the first time he’d obtained seeds from distant places; that was how he first met Qnaoro, with the then-green dragon brazenly dropping into his home. Helsha had prepared for a fight, but instead of making any demands the self-proclaimed explorer had merely offered him the seeds of a few interesting plants – none of which Helsha had ever seen.

Nothing particularly notable happened to the first few batches, but the problem started with a plant that sprouted a rather pretty stalk of purple flowers. At first Helsha had been pleased by the rapid growth of the sproutlings, but things quickly grew out of control.

In a year the persistent plants had popped up throughout his territory despite his best efforts to exterminate them, and in the following years they’d choked out several species of plants, including his beloved starwhite flowers, which could scarcely be found to begin with.

Plants competed against each other just as animals did, even if they appeared to exist in relative peace. This was one of the first lessons that Helsha had learned when he began studying plants, but he had never seen a species dominate others so thoroughly. Too late, Helsha realized that the plants he was familiar with had never learned how to compete against the purple stalks.

In the end, he had no one to blame but himself for the debacle, and Helsha swore to never let such a thing happen again. It was a difficult promise to keep, but this cave made it possible. It wasn’t particularly useful to most dragons thanks to the gaping hole in the ceiling, but this very opening was what allowed sunlight into the cave, allowing Helsha to ensure that whatever he planted could only survive in this sunlit area.

The chamber was good, but Helsha wasn’t satisfied. Over the decades he had made various incremental improvements to this test cave of his. Widening the hole was a trivial task, but modifying the cave such that the air always moved out the side entrance took weeks of trial and error.

It was a lot of work, but it had paid off; the grotto had done its job flawlessly for the last eight decades. Not a single specimen had escaped this setup…at least, not a single plant. Mushrooms still remained infuriatingly unstoppable. A long series of tests he had done in his youth had shown that many plants could sprout into multiple ‘bodies’ that all shared one cluster of roots, so he had assumed that mushrooms were the same – that was, until he found a single mushroom sprouting proudly from an old and damp piece of wood, one that had been sitting on solid stone for the last few years.

Further painstaking tests conducted over months and then years all had shown the same results. Not only was it impossible to determine how they reproduced, but the resilient organisms seemed to be able to grow anywhere and feed off of anything that had once been alive.

With no options left he tried one last test – a ridiculous test that assumed the “pollen” that mushrooms produced were actually tiny seeds.

And it had worked, bafflingly enough. Little redgill mushrooms had sprouted up in his test beds over the course of months, while the empty ones grew nothing but random species.

He had finally figured out how mushrooms made more mushrooms, but the result was nothing but aggravating – how was he supposed to breed them if they produced seeds on their own, without need for pollination like plants?

In the end all he could do was to simply ‘seed’ new beds with the largest mushroom from the last batch, but even a hundred years of this practice had no apparent effect on the size of his crops. He suspected contamination was to blame, but there was no way for him to address that.

A bird fluttered into the cave, which he quickly shooed away. Helsha realized that these human fruits would surely be enticing to all sorts of critters, who in turn might inadvertently spread the seeds of those fruits. He usually didn't have to worry about that, seeing as most of his test subjects were flowers that bore no fruit. It was something he'd have to take into account later, he supposed, though he wasn't sure how he'd seal off the cave without blocking off all the sunlight.

With that problem on his mind Helsha turned and left through the long mouth of the cave. He had spent most of yesterday planting these new seeds, and the rest of it was spent gathering goods to trade with the human. Helsha leapt into the skies and flew on home, ruminating over the strange creature as he ascended. The herbalist had asked Pryce how he was able to use mushrooms to make medicine, but the strange creature had claimed that it was ‘complicated’.

Under most circumstances Helsha would have assumed that this was just a lie to keep his secrets for himself, but the herbalist had seen the strange nature of mushrooms himself; perhaps it should not be surprising that the subject was too complex to discuss through an intermediary – at least, not without great difficulty.

He shook these idle musings aside as he prepared to land – not on the ground, but on the great, towering mass of wood that was his greatest creation.

Thirty great trees stood proudly in a circle, each trunk spiraling upwards along with its neighbor as they reached for the heavens, and within them were another twenty that spiraled in the opposite direction. It might have had the appearance of many trees growing together, but it was actually one singular enormous living entity.

The tree was quite literally built upon his discovery that a single plant could have multiple bodies. Tests involving great trees required far more patience, taking years to confirm that the colossal organisms shared this self-copying trait, and taking years more to take advantage of it, but it had all been worth it to create this grand specimen before him. The trees themselves were only a little under three centuries old, so they weren't quite comparable to the many thousand-year old behemoths scattered across the land, but enough time had passed that the branches he had ‘woven’ over the centuries had grown into strong, durable platforms that could easily take his weight.

Helsha landed on one such platform and plucked a few sunberries. They weren't grown by the tree itself, but by vines that grew upon the exterior of the tree – usually at higher altitudes. He wasn't sure why this was the case, but he suspected it had to do with avoiding certain pests close to the ground.

His task complete, he took a moment to scan his surroundings. Several trees, failed versions of the one he perched upon dotted the landscape, their bushy and unkempt appearance a result of his inexperience at the time. Far to the north, another dragon could be seen flying past his territory; he ignored them.

Satisfied that no one was around, he leapt off the tree and glided home. The tree actually made a rather nice place to nap – so long as it wasn't raining – but it wasn't his home.

That was the sprawling network of caves he used to store his countless things and run his endless tests. Right by the entrance were the ‘bags’ that Pryce had given him, though they were far lighter and stronger than any he had seen before. Apparently they were made of plant fibers, though he couldn't imagine what the humans had done to get them to look like that. His only complaint was that the bags were a bit small, but they were more than large enough to contain his prospective items of trade.

It was strange that the human gave away these bags for nothing in return. It left Helsha feeling unpleasantly indebted, even if more efficient trading did benefit the both of them. He decided that he’d just have to give the bags back when they were done, or trade something else for them.

Helsha spent some time gathering his supplies, preparing for his return to the ship. He glanced at the pile of bags, most of which were filled with various samples. He was about done, so there was just one thing left to do.

He gathered his bags, looping them around his wing-thumbs before heading out to his last destination. Only a few days were left until the solstice, and there was a chance that he might not be able to return home until things had been settled.

Soon afterwards Helsha arrived at the base of a great tree. He set his bags down upon the ground and sat before the great trunk, just as he had done countless times throughout the ages. The trunk was wide enough that he could no longer wrap his arms around it like he used to, but it paled in comparison to the behemoths that could be found a short flight away.

It was, by all respects, unremarkable, save for the ugly lumpen, crisscrossing lines that scarred the lower trunk. It was far from the largest, or the most beautiful, but for ages it had been the closest thing he had to-

«I’m back, Helsha.»

The unexpected greeting startled the herbalist, but he relaxed as he recognized the voice's owner.

«Qnaoro,» Helsha huffed, turning to meet his old acquaintance. Not announcing one’s arrival was normally an incredibly rude thing to do, but it was understandable, considering the circumstances.

«Sorry,» Qnaoro said, dipping his head apologetically. The yellow dragon stood under a strand of trees, and at the base of his neck sat Jane Callan. The human female was still wrapped in sturdy vines that kept her safely upon his back, though they must have traveled the last bit of distance on foot to avoid detection.

«I was hoping that you would return.» Helsha supposed this meant that Kharno had been too late, but at least things worked out in the end. «Did you meet with any…difficulty?»

«We met a bit of turbulence here and there,» Qnaoro said, sitting down to let Jane slide off his neck, «but all seven agreed to ally with us, so I’ll consider it a success for now.»

Helsha glanced down at Jane, who stumbled around in an odd gait. Apparently sitting on someone's neck was uncomfortable for her. The human appeared to be in good health, if a bit thin and ragged compared to Pryce. Her clothes and long brown hair were in an especially sorry state, but her brown eyes were still wide and bright with vigor.

…or perhaps that was surprise, judging by her gaping mouth.

«Is something wrong?» Qnaoro asked, glancing back at Callan. «You are very quiet, La-» He followed her line of sight and froze.

Helsha sighed. Pryce had asked Kharno to gently break the news if they found Callan, but it seemed that this was no longer an option.

«You found the other humans?» Qnaoro breathed in realization, his face indignant with surprise.

“Where did you get those?” Jane demanded, the human stumbling towards the bags on the ground.

«Yes, but…» Helsha suddenly began to regret the fact that he hadn’t prepared for this at all. The times in which he had ever comforted someone could be counted on a single hand – how was he supposed to tell someone that all of their allies and friends were dead? «...All of the other humans from your ship are dead, except for the one named Pryce.»

He immediately regretted his straightforwardness, though he wasn't sure what else he could have said. Callan staggered beneath the weight of his words even before receiving a translation. “...He said they’re all dead except Pryce, didn’t he?” she asked, kneeling down to touch the closest bag, as if to convince herself that it was real.

Qnaoro casted an uncertain eye at Helsha, though the herbalist had not the faintest idea of what to say. «...yes,» the yellow dragon nodded.

The human took in a deep, long breath.

And slowly exhaled.

“I knew something was wrong, but…fucking hell. I didn’t…I didn’t think it would…” she made an odd, choking noise.

Helsha shot Qnaoro a questioning look, but judging by the look on his face the yellow dragon hadn’t fully understood what she said either. The explorer appeared torn on what to do, and seemed to settle for gently nosing Jane’s shoulder in a comforting manner.

She took in a shuddering breath, patting Qnaoro’s muzzle in thanks before standing back up.

“Tell me everything. How's Pryce? Is he alright?”

«Pryce is healthy,» Helsha said, replying to Qnaoro’s translation. «When I last saw him he was allied with Huroumh, Ahnoumh, Ghorrah, and Jooral. Two days ago they asked that I be their ally, not knowing that I already met you. They brought me to the ship and we traded some things. I let them know that I met you, but my promise of confidentiality made things difficult. I only know that the rest of the humans died of the sickness you described, and that more humans will be arriving on a second ship tomorrow.» Helsha picked up his bags, looping each one around his talons.

“Wait, tomorrow?!” Jane shot up. “Where-”

«I know where they are. Follow me.»

Qnaoro sat down and translated for Jane as she scrambled back up his neck. It didn’t take long, as the two dragons soon sat in silence as they waited for the human to finish securing herself in place. «So…» Qnaoro said, glancing up at the great tree. «Do you know who found this ‘Pryce’? And how long ago?»

Helsha blinked, bemused by the uncharacteristically apprehensive question. «That was Huroumh. Why do you ask?»

«No reason,» Qnaoro shrugged, though Helsha sensed that wasn’t the entire truth. «You know, you still haven’t told me what's so special about this tree,» he said, shifting to another subject.

Helsha frowned, but his gaze softened after a moment’s consideration. «...It is nothing you would find interesting,» he said.

«Still not going to tell me, huh?» Qnaoro said, chuffing in mild annoyance. «You know that just makes me more curious, right?»

Helsha snorted in amusement, allowing his lip to twitch upwards in a rare smirk. «Of course, that's half the fun.»

«You-»

“Ready,” Jane said, interrupting Qnaoro.

«...I guess we'll have to continue this in the air,» Qnaoro huffed.

«No,» Helsha said, before the yellow dragon could launch himself into the sky. «I'll fly on ahead, that way I can warn you if anyone approaches. You stay low to the ground and be ready to hide»

«Oh,» Qnaoro blinked. «Good idea. Lead the way, then.»

Fathom tore through his blue lizard, satiating his post-patrol hunger. His coloration had returned to the usual deep blue color some time ago, but tomorrow was the day that the other humans were expected to arrive, and first impressions were important, after all.

It was getting late, Fathom noted, the sky turning yellow as the day drew closer to an end. If he'd gone hunting any later there wouldn't be much UV left in the sky, which would have been a minor inconvenience.

Fathom scanned the skies, wondering if Celeste had finished her patrol yet. His daughter seemed somewhat agitated these past few days, though he couldn't say that he blamed her.

Day-long patrols were boring.

He glanced to the west, and noticed a dragon in the distance, flying a fair bit higher than normal. Fathom squinted, and was fairly certain that the dragon was Helsha – or, Xylem, as Pryce called him. The elder did have a distinctive appearance; few dragons his age were green, to say nothing of his unique markings. The herbalist had probably returned to trade, though Fathom wasn't sure why he came so late in the day. Still, it was a pleasant surprise, and he looked forward to seeing what the herbalist had brought with him today.

He launched himself into the sky and was startled to see a yellow dragon flying beneath Xylem, so far down that they nearly brushed the treetops with each wingbeat. Fathom immediately narrowed his vision and saw the stranger had something around his neck, confirming his suspicion – that was Aurum and Callan!

The dragon in question had slowed upon seeing Fathom, but continued forward as Xylem himself began to dive to his level. A short exchange seemed to pass between the two, and together they angled straight towards him.

A few minutes later they drew close enough that Fathom felt comfortable descending upon a nearby clearing – aerial conversations were terribly awkward, especially if you wanted to talk about something important.

Soon Xylem descended, with Aurum right behind him.

«You found them,» Fathom said to Xylem.

«I did,» Xylem nodded. «They’d planned to go to the twins last, which was why I suggested that one of you go to them, but they’d also planned to return to my territory to rest, if time permitted it.»

Fathom looked up to watch Aurum as he landed. The yellow dragon had vines wrapped around his neck, securing Callan upon his back.

Fathom wasn't sure what human females were supposed to look like. Pryce had only mentioned that they were a bit smaller than human males, and tended to have longer hair.

Both facts were true for Callan, whose hair was tied back in an odd way that vaguely resembled a tail, but Fathom felt that her limbs were unhealthily thin and stick-like, and her soft human lips appeared to be dried and cracked from flying. Long clothes covered the rest of her body, preventing Fathom from discerning much else about her health, though the sleeves of her shirt appeared to be intentionally torn – Fathom eyed the rest of the vines, and noticed a wooden plate dangling along Aurum’s side; the incremental markings told him that it must have been the sextant that Callan had crafted.

All in all, the human seemed like she had seen better days, but she was alive and alert. Her brown eyes – a shade darker than Pryce's own brown eyes – stared brightly up at Fathom.

“Hello, ‘Aurum’, Callan,” Fathom said, nodding his head in greeting. “It is good to finally meet you,” he added to the human.

“Good to meet you too,” Callan said, before Aurum could reply. “Fathom, right? How is Pryce? Is he alright?”

“He is well, but…” Fathom trailed off, glancing between Helsha and Callan. “Did Xylem tell you about the rest of the crew?”

“...so it's true then,” Callan sighed, her lips pressed into a tight grimace. “Yes, Xylem told me, but it still hasn't quite…sunk in – it doesn't feel real yet.”

“...yes,” Fathom rumbled, after a moment's thought. “You must have only learned about the crew recently. Will you be alright?”

“I'll…manage,” Callan said, not quite meeting his eyes. “I'll have to. But thank you for asking.” She paused, glancing eastward to the ocean, though the ship sat beyond the horizon at this distance.

“How many days ago did you find Pryce?” Aurum asked. His question was completely innocent, but there was something off about the other dragon that bothered Fathom, something that he couldn't quite put his talon on.

“The human ship landed seventy-nine days ago,” Fathom replied tersely. “I watched Pryce for seven days before meeting him properly.”

“Seven days?” Aurum asked, drawing his head back in surprise. “Why did you wait so long?”

“This was before I got to know him,” Fathom shrugged. “I wanted to see what he would do on his own. He wouldn't act normally if I was standing right in front of him.”

“...I see,” Aurum rumbled, looking very obviously distracted.

“Well, let's get going,” Callan said before Fathom could remark on Aurum's odd behavior. “I’d like to talk to Pryce while we still have daylight, and the Horizon must be pretty far out if I can’t see it from here.”

“Wait,” Fathom said, then paused, as he reconsidered his course of action. Callan seemed reasonable enough, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry, as Pyrce would say. “Pryce feels guilt over what happened. He thinks that he has failed the crew, including you.”

“Guilty?” Callan asked, frowning. “Why? He was sick, wasn't he?”

“He was, but he told me that he has responsibilities as a doctor. Responsibilities that he has failed.”

“Ah, right,” Callan said, her expression morphing into one of understanding. “Yeah…I can see why he'd feel that way.”

“Good,” Fathom nodded. “You are human – someone who has been alone, like he has. You can understand him, and you can help him, but you could also hurt him.”

Callan blinked, and looked rather taken aback. “I'm sorry, I haven't had such an articulate conversation in months. What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I'm telling you to be careful.” Fathom lowered his head, leveling with her eyes. “And I am asking you not to hurt my friend.”

“...Oh,” Callan said, an odd expression on her face. “I understand. I'll be careful.”

“Good,” Fathom nodded, glad that things had gone well – it would have been very awkward if he had to coerce her into being nice.

“Glad that's settled,” Callan smiled. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask, is that a radio on your head?”

Fathom blinked – he’d forgotten the device was still attached to his head. “Yes, my daughter and I have been patrolling along the coast in case the rescue ship lands too far north or south.”

“Hmm, clever.”

Fathom shrugged. “Yes. It is boring work, but it must be done. Now, any more questions? No? Then let’s get you back to the ship.”

“I have a question,” Pryce said, looking up from his notebook. “Yesterday, how did you get Sharnha to follow you here?”

“I lied,” Devotion said blithely.

“I thought so, but I thought dragons didn't like lying?”

“You can expect others to lie. I've told you this,” Fortitude huffed.

“I see,” Pryce said, furrowing his brow. “So what are the situations where it's okay to lie? Or does it depend on the person you're lying to?”

Devotion frowned and scratched her chin in thought. “This is obvious, but hard to explain…”

“It is an interesting question,” Fortitude chimed in, a thoughtful look in her eyes. “I have a feeling of what one should or should not lie about, but I have never had to explain it before.”

“One must not lie about promises,” Devotion said sternly.

“But it is okay to lie about things,” Fortitude added.

“So no lying about what you're going to do in the future, right?” Both dragons nodded. “What about…lying about the things that you've done in the past?”

Fortitude tilted her head as she mulled this over. “That's…bad, but not very bad, and not nearly as bad as lying about what you plan to do.”

“So couldn't you just ask someone to promise to tell the truth?”

Fortitude chuffed at this, as if he had asked something very silly. “That would be rude, unless you are offering something in return; if you ask someone to make a promise then it should be because you are offering something in return.”

“Like a trade,” Pryce said, noting this down for later.

“Is it different for humans?” Devotion asked, sounding suspicious.

“It is,” Pryce nodded, then paused as he considered how to continue. “Most kinds of lies are considered bad, unless you are lying to help someone else. People will generally try to keep their promise, but you shouldn't fully trust someone you just met just because they made you a promise.”

“Sounds complicated,” Fortitude chuffed. “And what about-”

“There are dragons coming towards us,” Devotion interrupted. “Two dragons. Fathom and Xylem.

“Oh, good,” Pryce said, pocketing his notebook as he stood up. “I'll make some coffee tea for him to try.”

“Wait,” Devotion said, her eyes narrowing. “There is a third dragon behind them. I believe that is ‘Aurum’ with Callan on his neck.”

“What?!” Pryce exclaimed, then scrambled for his binoculars, “are you sure?”

“Must be. No one wears anything like that,” Devotion said, squinting at the dot in the sky. “Helsha is clever. I am not surprised if he had a plan.”

Pryce brought up his binoculars and saw that there was indeed what appeared to be rope around Aurum’s chest and neck. The tense, interminable passage of a minute brought the dragons closer, revealing a blurred but distinct figure wrapped around the golden dragon’s neck.

“That's her,” Pryce said, setting down the binoculars. Now there was nothing to do but to wait, and when she landed…well, he was sure that Callan knew the fate of the crew by now, but the two of them would still need to have a long and difficult conversation.

“I wonder how he found them,” Fortitude said, a slight frown in her eyes. “But I suppose it does not matter. At least Xylem will have already told her about the other humans.”

“I should have been the one to tell her that,” Pryce sighed. “But it can't be helped. I'll be right back, I have to prepare a few things.”

Pryce watched as Fathom landed gracefully upon the deck. “Xylem found Callan,” he said, shifting to the side to give the others room to land. “I saw them flying towards the ship when I finished hunting. Is Celeste still not back?” he asked, glancing around.

“I haven’t seen her since she left this morning. She must still be patrolling or hunting,” Pryce said absently, shielding his eyes as he was buffeted by Xylem, who was next to land. “Please tell Xylem I said thank you, and I’ll definitely repay him for his help.”

«I didn’t do much,» Xylem confessed. «All I did was wait for them to return.» He paused to hold up a partially unfolded wing, blocking the gusts generated by Aurum’s landing. «If you should thank anyone it should be Qnaoro; he is the one who saved her.»

The golden dragon gently set himself down onto the deck of the ship as Xylem spoke, a ragged but familiar woman sitting on the base of his neck.

“Callan…” Pryce said, abruptly forgetting everything he had planned to say. The geologist had changed in the time since they'd last seen each other – the sleeves of her shirt were greatly torn and frayed from what seemed to be deliberate damage, and her skin was greatly tanned by her time in the wilderness. On her face, sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes spoke of hardships suffered in the wilderness. Still, she appeared to be alert and relatively healthy, her eyes darting from dragon to dragon before locking onto the sole other human aboard the ship. “...You're alive,” Pryce managed.

Callan untied the last bit of vine and slid off Aurum’s neck, stumbling a bit as she landed. “Pryce,” she replied, sounding equal parts relieved and strained at the same time. She glanced around, her gaze wandering across the deck and taking in the state of the ship.

“The crew-” Pryce began.

“I know,” Callan said. She paused, and glanced around the deck. For a moment no one spoke, not even the dragons, though the lapping waves cared not for the severity of the moment. “God fucking dammit,” she swore, and Pryce recalled how unsettling it had been to see the once-bustling ship so devoid of human life. “...where'd you bury them?” she asked, after a moment.

Pryce clasped his hands behind his back, bracing himself. “I didn’t. I wasn't able to dig a grave big enough for all of them. I had to…give them a burial at sea.”

Callan’s eyes widened. She stepped forward, Pryce tensed-

But she only pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I had to…make a grave for Edward,” Callan rasped into his chest. “It was shallow. Too shallow. Shit, I can’t imagine what it was like, having to bury everyone like that.”

Pryce had never been a very physically affectionate sort of person, but it had been months since he had last interacted with another human being, and now he found himself completely unprepared for the effect that such a simple gesture had on him. He stood, frozen by uncertainty, but a tremble through her frame made his decision.

Pryce lifted his arms and woodenly returned the hug, for her sake if not for his. “I should be the one saying that,” he said, once he had regained the ability to speak. “You…it’s a miracle that you’re even alive.”

“True, but I'm sure the same could be said for you,” Callan said, half-smiling as she broke off from the hug. “The island that the whale left me on wasn't very large, so there wasn't really anything around that could hurt me. I just had to worry about shelter, food, and water…though I did have to eat raw crabs for the first few days,” she admitted, shuddering as she wrapped her arms around herself. “It took a lot longer than I’d like to admit to get a fire going – damn near everything on that island was damp and soggy – but I managed. Nothing notable really happened until Aurum over here dropped out of the sky,” she said, gesturing a thumb towards her companion.

“Hello,” Aurum said, turning away from his inspection of the ship, his bright blue eyes blinking curiously at Pryce.

“How did you find her?” Fathom asked, “You did not mention that in your message,” he said to Callan.

Aurum shrugged. “The birds told me.”

“That…wasn’t literal, right?” Pryce asked.

“Oh no,” Callan said, waving a hand dismissively. “Apparently my arrival caused some birds to fly to other islands, ones they normally don’t inhabit. Aurum noticed their odd behavior and eventually tracked me down.”

“You were not lying about this ship, Laishaka,” Aurum said, tossing his head. “I cannot understand how humans can make something so big.”

“Laishaka?” Pryce asked, glancing between them, “doesn't that mean-”

Callan snorted. “‘Little hunter’, yes. He gave me that name and kept using it even after I told him to call me Jane.”

“Not my fault humans cannot speak properly,” Aurum chuffed.

“Huh,” Pryce said, sharing a look with Fathom. “Fathom did the same thing, except he called me…Gharrum, I think?”

“Oh. Yes,” Fathom said, looking mildly surprised. “It means…” He paused, frowning. “Hmm…it's easier to just show you. Go to the cargo hold, open box number three, and bring back three of the round rocks in the left corner of the side closest to you.”

Pryce raised an eyebrow. “You named me after round rocks?”

“Just get the rocks,” Fathom said, rolling his eyes.

Pryce was back a minute later, three of the rocks cradled in his arms. The objects weren't very large, with Pryce able to palm one in each hand while he tucked a third under his armpit. They were far lighter than their size suggested, so they were surely hollow.

“...It is strange that human females are smaller than males.” Devotion’s voice rang through the ship as Pryce climbed back up the stairs. Callan's reply was faint and inaudible from within the ship, though the muted noise sounded faintly indignant to his ears.

“I know that some animals have females that are smaller than males, but that never made much sense to me,” Fortitude said. “That reminds me, why are there round things on your chest?”

“Ah. Well, those are-”

“I'm back,” Pryce said, a little louder than necessary. “Why did you want me to get three of them?”

“Give me the biggest one,” Fathom said, ignoring his question. The dragon plucked the largest stone out of Pryce’s hands, then cracked it open against the edge of the bulwark, the hollow stone splitting straight down the middle. “Good, I don't need the other two,” he said, sounding quite pleased as he returned the freshly halved pieces back to Pryce, who stared at the offering in wonder – somehow glittering amethyst crystals lined the interior of the hollow rock, despite the solid and unremarkable exterior.

“Oh wow, a geode!” Callan exclaimed, rushing over to get a closer look.

“Gharrum literally means ‘crystal egg’,” Fathom explained. “They are symbolic of something that is not as it appears,” he said, handing the geode over at Callan’s insistent gesturing. “It usually refers to someone who seems boring or ordinary, but has a hidden talent or quality.”

“Oh. Thank you?” Pryce said, pleasantly surprised. He hadn't thought about the nickname at all since Fathom had started using his real name, but he had always assumed it was some kind of insult.

“I considered it,” Fathom admitted when Pryce awkwardly said as much. “My first idea was Calrum, which means ‘pearl egg’ and refers to oysters. Oysters have a similar meaning to geodes, but…they're gross.”

“Well, it's a flattering name, but I think I'm mostly glad you didn't call me an oyster,” Pryce chuckled. He glanced at Callan, who was still inspecting the hollow rock.

“...It's a damn good one too,” she said, almost muttering to herself. “This is one of nicest specimens I've ever seen, and one of the biggest too!”

“It is?” Fathom asked, tilting his head. “This one is good, but it's very small. I've seen ones that are much larger than a human,” he said, gesturing the size of a round object about two meters in diameter.

“Where?” Callan demanded. “Do you have any? When can I see one?”

“That'll have to wait,” Pryce said, stifling a laugh at Fathom’s bemused expression. “I've never heard of a geode before, are they rare?”

“Oh yes,” Callan said, nodding without taking her eyes off the crystals. “Most geodes are small and not very pretty, so they're not particularly valuable to anyone other than collectors and geologists. The general consensus is that they're formed when volcanic activity creates pockets of air, and over thousands and millions of years the surrounding groundwater deposits minerals inside the air pocket, forming a geode – the process must be a lot more common here if geodes can grow so large.”

Fathom cocked his head. “How does groundwater make crystals? Groundwater is water.”

Callan looked up in surprise. “Oh, that's a bit complicated, but I'm more surprised that you followed that,” Callan said, then turned to Pryce. “Come to think of it, he's awfully articulate. What, did you read him a dictionary or something?”

“Well…yes.”

Callan stared in disbelief before snorting in amusement. “Of course you'd do that.” She paused, then smiled sadly. “I can't tell you how nice it is to talk normally again. I just wish-”

“It is not nice for me,” Aurum grumbled. “I can't understand all these expressions.”

“Oh, sorry.” Callan turned to Devotion and Fortitude. “Sorry about not saying hello to you two as well, Xylem told me that – hey, is that gold!?”

“Yes, it is,” Fortitude said smugly, tilting her head so that Callan had a better view of the glittering accessory.

“Oh. ‘Gold’ is ‘makra’?” Aurum asked, looking pleased if a little confused. “But my color is not like makra. Is it because your eyes are weird?”

“My eyes aren't weird,” Callan huffed. “I just can't see all the colors that you can.”

“Wait,” Pryce said. “How did you learn that dragons can see UV and IR light?”

Callan blinked. “They can see both? Damn, I thought it was just one or the other, not both,” she muttered. “Oh, right. I noticed it when I asked about Xylem’s markings. No idea why they'd evolved to see those wavelengths though.”

“Well it makes sense that they'd evolve to see burning hydrogen.” Pryce said. He blinked at Callan's confused expression. “...You do know they can spit fire, right?”

“Well, yeah, but-” Callan stammered, then turned to Aurum. “You have hydrogen!?”

“I don't know what that is.”

“...Nevermind, I'll explain later...” Callan said, rubbing her forehead. “So hydrogen was the flammable component of their fire, eh? How’d you figure that out?”

“Their gasses are lighter than air, burn mostly in wavelengths outside the visible spectrum, and the fire leaves behind no soot. Hydrogen is the only possible explanation, at least to my knowledge. As for the colors, I found that out when I showed Fathom a prism.”

“It was very confusing,” Fathom added. “I’m still baffled that humans see different colors than we do. You would think that color is color.”

“Well, anything else I should know?” Callan asked, sitting herself down onto a nearby bench.

“Yes, but…maybe you should go first, this way I can make sure I tell you about the things you don't know.

Callan nodded. “Makes sense. I did cover most of the important stuff in my message, but that was before we went looking for allies.”

“We tried to find you,” Fathom said, “but it seems you've been busy.”

Callan shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry about that. We moved around a lot these past few days.”

“Callan has nine allies, including me,” Aurum said, peering down at Pryce. “How many do you have?”

“...Pryce also has eight, including me,” Fathom answered after some hesitation.

Pryce tilted his head. “Don't we have nine? You, Celeste, Devotion, Fortitude, Kharno, Xylem, Echo, Nanzo, and Sharnha.”

Fathom flattened his spines as Pryce mentioned the Trespasser. “Do we have to count him?” He asked mulishly, not quite having forgiven the trespasser yet.

“Are you both counting Xylem?” Fortitude asked. “Then that means we have seventeen allies in total. Not bad.”

“Is it enough?” Pryce asked.

“Yes, of course,” Fortitude said, bobbing her head. “The allies we have gathered prove that there is good reason to ally with you – this will make others want to join us.”

“We had the same idea,” Aurum nodded. “The seven we spoke with are ones I trust. You know Xylem and the twins, but we have also spoken with Wakori, Iakahn, Yintra, Eohmn, and Vhaka.”

“Vhaka?” Fathom said, drawing his head back in surprise.

“You know him?” Pryce asked.

“...yes. He was an old neighbor of mine. He’s the one who took the territory I had with Abyss,” Fathom said, with surprising candor.

Pryce blinked. “Aren’t you…mad about that?”

“I am not happy about it,” Fathom grumbled, “and he was only ever able to beat me because of my broken wing, but Vhaka is an honorable dragon, and he won by fighting fairly, so I don’t hate him.”

“Erhm, well, anyway,” Callan said, clearing her throat, “Wakori is Aurum’s mother, Iakahn is another dragon interested in exploring, and the last two are architects!” the geologist said excitedly. “They lived in this huge wooden house, it was really something to see.”

“Dragons live in wooden houses?” Pryce asked, turning to Fathom. “Why didn't you tell me that before?”

Fathom shrugged. “Very few do. It's a lot of work, and for what? Easier to just live in a cave.”

Callan cleared her throat, interrupting. “Anyway, I…well, Aurum told them about what humans can do, and they all promised they'll be at the Solstice.”

“I'm surprised they believed you,” Pryce said, which wasn't a slight against Callan – the woman simply didn't have much technology on her, save for the literal clothes on her back.

“Ah, well…I did have this,” Callan said, pulling out a small laminated photograph from her back pocket, one that Pryce recognized instantly.

It was a group photograph of the crew standing before the Horizon, the vessel having just been named, and the crew bright and smiling. Pryce had one too, though it was buried in his personal belongings.

“I'd forgotten it was even there, but it ended up being one of the most useful things I had,” Callan said. She took a moment to stare at the photograph before returning it to her back pocket. “Anyway, Aurum and I planned to rest for a couple of days back in Xylem’s home,” she continued, “but it turned out that you lot already met him.”

“...that's everything?” Pryce asked.

“The important parts, yeah. All of them were interested in human stuff, and each one wanted different things, but none of them wanted anything ridiculous.”

“The Twins want to travel to the land to the west,” Aurum recalled.

Fathom cocked his head. “Only those two?”

“Those two and me,” Aurum corrected. “But I will be the first, of course.”

“First?” Fathom drew back his head. “Pryce has already agreed to take me to the Mainland – I will be the first, not you.”

“Uh-oh,” Callan said.

“You?” Aurum growled, spines bristling. Behind him, Xylem warily glanced between the two – their agitation hardly needed much translation. “I have spent all of my life looking for another land! Why should someone like you be the first?”

“Ah, that explains why you’ve been looking at me like that,” Fathom growled, his flight membranes sliding over his eyes. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? Afraid that I’ll beat you.”

Aurum stood up on all fours, teeth bared in anger. “You-”

“Hey!” Callan called out, waving to get the attention of the two feuding males. “No fighting, alright? We're all going on the same ship, so aren't you two going to be arriving at the same time?”

“Of course not,” Aurum hissed. “Even if we go on the same ship, one of us will be the first to land on the Mainland.”

Pryce raised his hand to get their attention. “Would it be alright if you both landed at the same time?”

“No!” Both dragons exclaimed, momentarily united in their refusal to compromise.

Callan made a frustrated noise and shot a meaningful glance at Pryce. Aurum had dedicated his century of life to exploring, so Pryce doubted the dragon would cede any ground on a subject he was so passionate about. Callan was the one who personally knew the dragon, and knowing that fact she must be hoping that Fathom would be the one to compromise.

Pryce had to shake his head. Fathom was generally rather amenable to most suggestions, but he had never asked him to give something up to another dragon before, and certainly not anything so important. He’d almost asked anyway, but the expectant look in Fathom’s eyes silenced him.

“Wait, Pryce, can you bring out a map?” Callan asked. “A compass too.”

Pryce widened his eyes in realization and quickly retrieved the requested item, and laid it out along with a compass so that Aurum could get a clear view.

“This is the map I was talking about,” Callan explained, “this is north, which is in that direction. This land here,” she said, tapping on the Mainland, “is where humans are from. The biggest island here is the one that no one has ever been to.”

Aurum was silent for a moment as he stared wide-eyed at the great landmass. “This is…the far land? It is much bigger than Dragonia.”

“It is,” Callan nodded, “It’s almost nine times larger, and you can be the first to land there, and Fathom can be the first to land on the Mainland, is that okay?”

Aurum opened his mouth, then reluctantly closed it. “I will agree to this if he does,” he said, grumbling as he glowered at Fathom.

Fathom likewise didn’t seem quite satisfied, but a nod from Pryce led to his own begrudging agreement.

“Great, now that’s settled,” Callan said, sitting down on a bench with relief. “Now, where were we…storytime, right?”

“Right,” Pryce nodded, “but it’ll be late by the time I’m finished. Let me go get something for Xylem first, then I’ll be right back.”

«Is that…Coffee?» Xylem asked, sniffing the air.

“I did some stuff to it,” Pryce said, giving him and Callan the last two cups – though of course Xylem’s cup was actually a large jug. “Let me know if you like it, but be careful; it’s a bit hot.”

Callan blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. “Eugh,” she said, recoiling. “This tastes…” she paused, then took another sip. “Huh. I think I kind of like it.”

“Really?” Pryce asked, surprised. “Isn’t it bitter?”

Callan shrugged. “Yeah, but it's got a nice flavor too.”

The odd container had stumped Xylem for a few moments, but now he had the handle looped around a talon, allowing him to bring it up to his muzzle for a cautious sniff. He lapped up a bit of it, then poured the rest of it into his maw. «This is…good. Very good. Can you make more?» the herbalist asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Pryce said, less surprised by this outcome. Fortitude had liked it, after all. “I already used up all the beans you gave me, but I can easily make more coffee tea if you brought me more of them.”

«I’ll be back tomorrow morning.»

“...can I have some?” Aurum asked Callan, watching as Xylem rapidly winging his way back home.

“Sure, you can have the rest,” Callan said, pouring the rest of her mug into his open maw – much to Fathom’s disappointment.

“I’ll make you more later,” Pryce promised, turning to Callan. “Now, let’s get you caught up on everything that’s happened.”

“Wow,” Callan said, half an hour later. It wouldn’t have taken so long if Fathom hadn’t felt the need to provide commentary on his side of the story. “You've…been through a lot,” the geologist noted.

“Well, I’ve had help,” Pryce said, tilting his head to Fathom who nodded complacently.

“You finished with good timing,” Fortitude said, looking to the west. “Celeste is back.”

“Ah, finally,” Fathom said, looking up at the sky. “She is my daughter,” he added to Callan and Aurum.

Celeste dropped onto the deck a few minutes later, looking somewhat strained. “Oh, you must be Callan,” she said, dismayed. “Did I miss everything already? How did you find Qnaoro?” she asked, turning to the others.

“Xylem found and brought them back here,” Fathom explained. “You wouldn’t have missed everything if you weren’t late. What took you so long?”

“I was hunting, but then I had to hide for a long time because some other dragons were flying around,” Celeste complained. “I had to make sure no one was following me, and that took even more time,” she added mulishly.

“Well, at least you got here before Kharno,” Devotion said. “It looks like she brought the twins with her.”

«Of course Helsha already found her,» Kharno huffed, peering down at Callan interestedly while the twins stared wide-eyed at the ship. According to Fathom, Yantha was the smaller but older twin, while Karoth was the larger but younger twin, though both dragons had red hide that matched the red of their eyes. «She has much longer hair,» Kharno said. «Are all human females like this?»

«Yes, but apparently it’s a matter of choice,» Aurum said, watching as the twins inspected the ship.

«Is this how the humans traveled across the ocean?» Yantha asked, tapping the side of a steel bulwark before staring at Pryce and Callan. «How did such tiny creatures make such a thing?»

«Impressive, isn’t it?» Aurum asked smugly, «Do you believe us now?»

«...yes, you were not exaggerating at all,» Karoth said, replying to Aurum’s translation. «I’m starting to see how it was done, but how does it move? Do you need to wait for the wind? That seems terribly inconvenient.»

“I get the feeling this is going to be pretty routine,” Pryce said to Callan, “I can handle this, so you can go eat and take a shower if you want. There’s stew in the kitchen, and the showers should be warm by now.”

“A warm shower,” Callan said, sighing wistfully, “tempting, but let’s finish talking with these guys first. It shouldn’t take very long, especially with your help.”

“Yeah,” Pryce smiled. “I suppose it won’t.”

“I gotta say, never thought I’d be bribing dragons,” Callan said as she filled her bowl with stew.

“I’d hardly call it bribing,” Pryce said. “Besides, we have to show them what humanity is capable of, and that we’re willing to reward those who help us.”

Callan snorted as she sat at the end of a long communal table, utensils in hand. “That’s what bribing is, Pryce,” she said, slurping up a spoonful of stew. “...this is delicious, what'd you put in it?”

Pryce shrugged. “Nothing special. It's probably just malnutrition making it taste better than normal.”

“Well it sure tastes better than that crap Henry used to-” Callan abruptly fell silent, and a grim silence filled the room. She pursed her lips as she absently stirred her stew, eyes glancing down at the table that once sat twenty instead of one. “I guess it just hasn’t…sunk in yet,” she sighed.

Pryce remained silent, studiously preparing for his task at hand. What could he possibly say to that?

“What're you making?” Callan asked quietly, a minute later.

“Just cutting up one of Xylem’s choco fruits. They taste pretty good, but they’re rather difficult to split open.” Pryce said, cleaving one such fruit open. “You can try some, if you want.”

“Oh, I’ve eaten a few of those before,” Callan said, eagerly accepting the fruit. “People back home are gonna love this if we can figure out how to grow them. Those coffee beans too,” she added.

“...I’m going to need a second opinion on that,” Pryce said doubtfully. “Though I suppose it wouldn’t help to market it as ‘dragon tea’.”

Callan chuckled lightly before falling silent again. “You ever feel like there's just…too much going on?” she asked, waving a hand at nothing in particular. “Everyone’s dead, and we're just supposed to…do whatever it is we're doing with the dragons? It's not like there’s anything else to do, but it just doesn't feel right to just pretend they didn't exist.”

Pryce paused his stirring. “...yeah. I know the feeling.” He resumed stirring, taking a moment to formulate his response. “They might be dead, but we’re not pretending they didn’t exist. You don't think any of them would disagree with what we've done these past few months, do you?”

Callan looked down into her bowl, stirring absently. “I guess that's a good way of looking at it,” she said, not sounding entirely convinced.

“It…helped that I had a chance to say goodbye…even if it wasn't one that they deserved,” Pryce said. “We'll just have to give them a proper funeral back home.”

Callan sighed, then finished the rest of her soup. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

The following silence was less oppressive than it had previously been, and Pryce felt imperceptibly lighter as he washed the utensils.

“Well, I’m off to shower now,” Callan said, handing him her empty bowl. She paused, stopping halfway through the doorway. “I think I’ll talk to Aurum about his…disagreement with Fathom when I’m done cleaning up.”

Pryce nodded. “I was just about to do the same with Fathom. Oh, and Callan: did you name this island Dragonia?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Seems a bit…on the nose.”

“Well what did you name it?”

“Um…Alternis.”

“...”

“I hadn’t met any dragons yet,” Pryce said defensively.

Callan shook her head. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight Pryce,” she said, and left for the showers.

“Everything alright?”

Pryce had returned to the deck to find Fathom and Celeste sleeping by the stern while Aurum slept on the opposite end of the ship, with Fortitude and Devotion in the middle.

“It's not easy to sleep with someone like him so close,” Fathom said, grumbling over Celeste’s light snores.

“Look, I know he’s been disagreeable, but you can understand why this is so important to him, right?”

“Mmh.”

“Right?”

“I guess…” Fathom mumbled, very quietly.

Pryce sighed, unsure of how to deal with this problem. The subject at hand might have been relatively inconsequential, but Pryce especially didn’t want to set a precedent for replacing Fathom with more “qualified” individuals; not when his friend had already expressed uncertainty on that matter.

“I know you really want to go to the Mainland; that’s why I didn’t ask you to give up your spot,” Pryce said, crouching down to look Fathom in the eyes. “But we need to work together. If there’s another argument, try and settle things without violence, alright?”

Fathom took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, blowing a steady stream of air through his nostrils. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” Pryce nodded, satisfied. “Try and get some sleep, tomorrow’s the big day.”

“Big day?” Fathom asked. “Ah, like a great day. Goodnight, Pryce.”

“Goodnight, Fathom.”

Callan quietly approached Aurum, careful not to disturb the others. The golden dragon was curled up in a sleeping position, but his light blue eyes slid open as she approached.

“Hey, Aurum,” Callan said.

“You have new clothes,” Aurum said, raising his head to eye her more closely. “You are much cleaner than before, and you…smell like weird fruits?” he said, blinking in confusion.

“Ah. That’s the smell of soap,” Callan said, brushing aside her still-damp hair. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the…argument you had with Fathom today. I’m not saying you were wrong,” she said, seeing his eyes narrow, “but you won’t convince anyone by yelling at them. At least try and talk things through, alright?”

“This situation is…not normal,” Aurum said, quietly, “I am a wanderer. A dragon like Fathom would never give me anything that is his, but things are different with humans around. I need to change my way of thinking, but it is…difficult.”

“Well, you’re a quick learner, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Callan said, and began to unroll the sleeping bag she had brought with her.

“What is that?”

“It’s called a sleeping bag. It’s just to make sleeping more comfortable,” Callan said.

Aurum tilted his head, confused. “Don’t you want to sleep in your ship?”

“It’s…empty in there. I guess I’ve gotten used to sleeping with you,” Callan confessed, a little embarrassed. But Aurum seemed not to think anything of it, and only lifted a wing in invitation.

“Goodnight, Aurum.”

“Goodnight, Laishaka.”