#zaithi

*UA = Universe Alteration

I'm back my dragonlings! I have a writing-filled summer ahead! Here's the first request to start us off!

Happy Pride y'all🏳️‍🌈!

Btw if you're interested, I have a TDP fanfic with the same UA as this. And I absolutely didn't give my OC a mention in this (I saw an opportunity and I took it! lmao). It's called His Apprentice and I'll be finishing it soon and starting its sequel; please check it out! <3

(I've been playing and reading too much Dragon Age and so the slang "knife-ears" had to make an entrance in here :3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T/O/W = Type of Weapon (bowblade, sword, daggers etc.)

The mossy tree branches squelched beneath my navy boots as I ricocheted from giant tree to giant tree, wielding my (T/O/W). I sliced it through thin air, imagining humans facing my wrath as I hopped from one wet tree to another.

Gripping the damp bark of the nearest tree, I slid to a halt, standing on a broad branch. I placed my weapon(s) away and looked up at the sky. Beyond the dark green canopy, I could see dark rain clouds looming closer to me and the Silvergrove, ready to spill thousands and thousand of raindrops down onto us—again.

That was all this week had been; rain, rain and what’s this? More rain.

I sighed irritably and turned around, back towards the hidden Moonshadow elf village. I leaped my way quickly to the village, bounding through the trees with ease; until the rain poured.

My boots, the moss and the bark got wetter and slippier, causing me to lose balance a few times, but I quickly made up for it. Until I reached a huge star plum tree—the tree with the smoothest bark in all of Xadia.

To avoid a fall, I grabbed a branch on the plum tree and swung onto another tree. As I landed, my boots slid and my feet went from under me.

The impact when my back hit the branch winded me, and before I could bury a dagger from my belt into the tree, I slipped off the branch, plummeting to the ground. I screamed, my limbs flailing. I had no way to avoid falling to my death, no way to survive.

Several branches smacked me in the face, scratching my skin. One branch even had the audacity to hit my forehead... and then it went black.

*-*-*-*

The first thing I heard when I came to was the pitter-pattering of rain against wood and metal. The sound almost tempted me to keep my eyes closed and drift off again. But then a dull throbbing arose, and my head ached. I peeled open my eyes as it all came back to me; my training routine, the slick moss, the pouring rain, the fall…

The fall!

I bolted upright in what appeared to be a bed. An unfamiliar bed at that, covered in a patched quilt. The small house was lit with small flaming torches every metre or so. The quiet crackling of logs burning came from the opposite corner of the room, along with the bubbling sound of something boiling on a stove. My eyes slowly adjusted, realising that someone was at the stove.

“Relax, Knife-ears,” came a disinterested voice from where the bubbling was coming from. She continued stirring what was in the pot. “You’re alright; a mild concussion. But the storm’s getting worse so don’t even think about running off.”

She was a little taller than I was, with large white scaly wings and a narrow trail behind her. She was built strong and slim. Her scales shimmered against the torch lighting. A long white braid fell down her back, almost touching her tail where it joined her back, and two sets of narrow, smooth, elegantly curved horns protruded through her skull. A mix of teals and greens clung to her body as a tight, figure hugging set of leggings and wrapped top. Pale skin peeked through where the clothing didn’t meet around her lower back. She was a dragon-shifter for sure—like that strange dragon-shifter halfling that used to live in the Silvergrove with Rayla and her guardians. What was her name? Daisy? Violet? No, it was...

Heather! That was the halfling. Such a strange little being. Looking back now, I kind of felt bad for the way I ignored her; I was such an idiot, but fitting in was so important as kids. That was why no one was friends with her and no one would dare lose out on popularity by being friends with her.

I shook myself out of my thoughts; now wasn’t time for the guilty reflections I had in the middle of the night, now was the time to get to know this sparkly dragon-shifter. I opened my mouth to speak before realising I had no idea how to start.

“Um, hi?” I started. “I’m—”

“I don’t care who you are, Knife-ears,” she said, not looking up from her meal. She sighed and continued stirring.

I huffed. “I’m (Y/N),” I pushed on. Who are you?”

“The magic fairy who lives in this magical forest,” she sighed.

I grumbled. “So why did you rescue me, o magical fairy?”

She sighed again. I really wanted to slam my palm up her nose. “Don’t call me that. If you must call me anything, I am Zaithi. Zay for short.” She paused as she lifted her pot off the stove, stirred it one more time, and poured some into a small bowl. “And I didn’t rescue you. You got caught in one of the branches above my home. An elf lying unconscious above my home is sure to scare off well-paying customers.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not—nothing in this room looked like something people would come in to purchase something.

“So,” she continued, “I brought you inside and treated your head injury. You’re welcome.”

At this rate, I wasn’t too sure if everything she said was a joke. “Um, thanks, by the way.”

Zay hummed dismissively and came over with the small bowl of whatever she’d been cooking. Seeing her face made my heart pause beating for a second. She was exquisite with a slender face—not as slender as an elf’s—and round, icy blue cat-like eyes. I also noticed that at the front her top spiked upward, baring her toned stomach at me. “Here, this will fight off any cold you’ll pick up.”

I took the small wooden bowl from her in both hands. “What is it?” I asked, curiously. I smelled delicious. I took a sip. The liquid was thick and clear, with a few floating chunks in it that were soft and barely needed to be chewed.

“Phoenix-guts-and-toad-brain soup,” she said with a grin.

I spat out the soup, surprised and disgusted.

Zay laughed wildly, wiping away a tear from her eye. “Oh, Knife-ears, you’re too gullible.” She snorted. “I’m joking; it’s elfroot-and-bogey-berries soup with some homegrown veggies.”

I looked from her to the soup. “From now on I’m going to presume everything you say is a joke,” I said, taking a sip of the soup.

She chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first.” She pulled out a chair from the square table between the stove and the fireplace and sat backwards in it, facing me.

“So, why did you actually help me?” I asked, pulling the quilt back up around me, wrapping it around my shoulders.

Zay shrugged. “Guess I had the skills to prevent you from getting ill so I figured I might as well use them.”

I cocked a brow at her, pushing her for more.

She sighed—again. “My parents insisted I be a healer—like my mother was so she could help in the war before I was born. Though really, I want to be a soldier—like my father, though he didn’t have much of a choice in being one.” She looked aside to where my (W/O/C) lay on the floor with my belt of knives.

I glanced at them as well, and she rested her head on her crossed arms. I felt sorry for her, forced to be something she’s not. “I could teach you,” I blurted.

Zay lifted her head ever so slightly, as if she wouldn’t dare get her hopes up too high. She nodded a little. “Sure, if you want.”

*-*-*-*

“No warrior stops because of a little rain!” I scowled as Zay headed for the door. Dark spots of sweat coloured her top and the back of her leggings after our hours of training.

She sighed, gripping her wooden sword. “I am not getting caught in a thunderstorm, (Y/N)!” she shouted, determined to stay as dry as possible. “Go home before you get struck by lightning, Knife-ears.”

I crossed my arms grumpily and grabbed my bag. I was tempted to go home and stay dry, but... staying dry with Zay…

My heart skipped, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the thought. “Wait!” I called as she closed the door. I bolted towards it and she opened it just in time. I crashed into her, my face on her chest. She closed the door behind me, smirking.

“What a delightful picture I’m looking at,” she quipped—I think. She wrapped her muscular arm around me and I stayed still, heat rising to my cheeks and my heart racing faster—I really liked this.

I gave her an awkward smile. I had been so honest with her these past few weeks; she knew I wasn’t interested in male elves. And I was sure she knew what I was feeling.

“Everything alright, Knife-ears?”

I hesitated, slowing my heart and softening my expression. “Yeah, just glad to be dry.”