#telyn

What came out of the egg was... not quite a wanderer, and not quite a dragon. Those too-wise eyes looking up at them, the pair chose forms. Dragons, if such beings could really be called that.

“What do we do?”

“... We have to find a clan to leave it with. We can’t keep it.”

“There are no clans here, we’re on the border.”

“Then we’ll take it, until we find a clan.”

So Myria gathered the little dragon against her, wrapping it in a sling to make sure it stayed put while they descended the mountain. Telyn went ahead to scout the path. This was Talonok territory, and going skyward was too dangerous, especially with such a fragile thing, it’s carapace still soft.

“What will we call it? Dragons have names.”

Myria looked down to the little thing, it’s eyes looking back up at her with some strange echo of Telyn’s question. What will you call me? What will I be? She didn’t know the answers. They were witnesses, not fortune-tellers. Still, for all it’s strangeness, it made Myria smile.

“Nazoc. We’ll call him Nazoc.”

Throughout the night the wanderers walked, picking their way through the cracks and the crags and further into Earth’s territory. It was an older place, perhaps more welcoming of things like them.

Yet the farther they walked, the fewer signs of civilization they saw. None of the typical nomadic trails, not even the longneck huts that usually dotted the hills. It was strange, but they didn’t mind. After all, they didn’t tire. So they kept on until dawn. Noon. Dusk. Night, again. The territory was still vast, but it was strange.

“We should let it down. It’s young. It needs to stretch its wings, or it will become malformed.”

So Myria carefully plucked the tiny creature from its sling, and set it on the warm, dusty ground. Four delicate wings stretched out, and gave a couple testing flaps. The frills on it’s head stood up, and it looked to Telyn.

Telyn looked back. He tipped his head, the baby mirrored. So Telyn stretched up his wings, and then stretched out his front legs, then stretched his back legs. Nazoc followed suit. Telyn laid down, and this time, Nazoc scuttled over to lay in the curve of Telyn’s tail, resting his head on the tuft.

my lvl 25 imperial, telyn  (with some some artistic liberties taken)

On this lovely Trans Day of Visibility, I’m here to show off (most of) my Non-binary and trans dragons! Kicking off with a little self indulgence by throwing my Me dragon in there because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Telyn was the one who decided that it would be best not to practice in front of the hatchling. They weren’t dragons, after all, even if their forms seemed like it. Teaching a dragon a wanderer’s magic couldn’t be good.

They hadn’t thought about food yet.

It wasn’t until the third week, sitting high on top of a dune, watching the land below for signs of life, that Myria realized their mistake. With wide eyes she turned to Telyn.

“It doesn’t eat.”

“What?”

“Shouldn’t a hatchling cry when it’s hungry? Shouldn’t it need food? We’ve seen the starving before. They were different kinds, but they were still dragons.”

“...” Telyn looked to Nazoc, who looked back. From a bush he plucked a thorny leaf and put it in his mouth to chew it. Then offered one to Nazoc. The fae looked at it, but didn’t take it. “Maybe this one doesn’t eat.”

“We do not waste. We do not age. We do not turn with the world. We are keepers. Recorders. Witnesses.

But who lives forever without attachment?”

The pair had roamed the wastlands between Earth, Plague, and Water since before the dawn of the second age. They took the forms of those around them, or of the things least noticed. It’s easy to live detached when there’s nothing around you but bones, fossils, or decay.

Sometimes, the pair would follow a clan, or a traveler, and watch with indifference how the dynamic played out.

Yet once, alone on a border mountain, they found something strange.

It hummed with magic, floating above the rocks, and reflecting the stars against its own nebulous center.

For all their years, they didn’t know what it was, they only knew it was from another territory.

The power of the object captivated the pair, and they gathered around it as it began to pulse.

Then crack.

And then.

Through the coming days the pair continued to try and find what the child should eat, Myria remaining unconvinced that it didn’t. That was not how dragons worked. While she was unaware that she was correct, both of them were aware that they were probably making fools of themselves. They didn’t eat, they didn’t drink- and in trying they had only seemed to amuse Nazoc.

The little dragon would bring them things, and they would ‘eat’ them. Berries and thorny plants- Telyn ate a whole barrel cactus once, and Myria ate a small handful of rocks, pretending the different colors had different flavors.

Nazoc never laughed or giggled the way that they would’ve expected a dragon to do, but the little stridulating chirp and a shivering of his headfins seemed to convey the amusement. Still, they did not see him eat.

Deep in the desert, they knew where one lived who might know. A merchant with enough abilities to likely guide the wanderers, and one who seemed to live alone enough that it was unlikely they’d face trouble they couldn’t escape.

“Well now, it’s not every day I see families out here.” The spiral purred as they entered her shop. A ‘shop’ carved out from a sandstone boulder, with an extension on one side of colorful fabric, and all manner of jewelry hanging from the cloth wall.

Myria bowed her head, and gently pushed Nazoc forward. “We have heard your reputation, and hope to seek your council.”

“Council? Oh, I’m not sure that you’ve heard the right reputation. I don’t really offer advice. Only... hope.” She ran her claw along the silver chain of a pendant.

“We do not need hope, we need to know what a child like this eats.”

Looking between the very odd ‘fae’ and the very odd ‘skydancer’, Wealthy could only give a confused smile. “... Yes, I’m quite sure you’re in the wrong place, dear, but probably your... child... there... eats insects. Like me.” Though she was perhaps a bit nervous to liken anything with an exoskeleton to herself. Still she dug through one of her own chests to pull out some candied grubs to offer the little one.

Without hesitation Nazoc scuttled forward to eat them from her hand- his mandibles lifting from the side of his face to eat them. A chirping sort of purr escaped him, and he fanned out his headfins.

“... You’re welcome, little one. ...” Becoming more uncomfortable as she looked up to the unblinking stare of the two ‘parents’. “Would. You like to buy some insects, then? It’s not really what I sell, here, but this far in the desert they’re much easier to find than meat.”

Packing up as much as she could bear to part with, Wealthy hands over a couple large bags of insects.

“What do we pay you with?” Telyn asked with a tip of his head, and continued unblinking eyes.

Seeing an opportunity, however, Wealthy smiled. “A dream.”

“We do not dream.”

“A memory, then.”

The trio left with Nazoc’s food, and Wealthy hung a new sapphire tailjewel on her wall. Interesting.

First || Second || Third || >>Fourth

Day 12: Most Spoiled Dragons

Pyrite is a skilled illusionist that sells all sorts of useful enchantments. Want to freshen up your look or hide that ugly scar? Want to disappear or look like someone else? For the right price, he's got you covered. He has a huge diva attitude and never knows when to shut his mouth, but his ties to the local mob ensure that it never gets him into trouble. Well, almost never.