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Title: Adrift
Warnings: Respect the rating. Raw writing- an attempt to plow through and write 50,000 words in 30 days without revisions. Be kind.
Claimer: This is my entry for NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month, see their web page at: www dot nanowrimo dot org). This story and its plot, characters, and settings are MINE. Please do not take or distribute without permission.
I really should have known better than to hope for something dangerous. In the ocean I had a ten to one chance that whatever it was would actually come true. This time, however, was different than the rest. This time I’d had a very specific scenario in mind. I’d pictured things a certain way and there would be certain things in place to keep me safe and I would have had the time to plan what I wanted to say before I had to say it…
Of course, the world never works that way.
When I woke the following morning it was to Rife’s surreal, feral grin and dancing, fiery eyes. Yelping, I struggled groggily to my feet and made a half-hearted attempt at escape. I knew it was useless- he had just been sitting there, waiting for me to wake up. He could have killed me at any time.
He was playing with me.
“R-R-Rife,” I stuttered nervously, getting very ungracefully to my feet from where I had managed to stumble. “What brings you here?” I’d slept on the island, laying stretched out next to the fresh water ‘pond’ substitute.
He clambered languidly to his feet and stretched as if he had all the time in the world and more before finally turning burning eyes to me. “You work for the rainbowed dragon.” He said simply, stating what we both already knew. “You were the one who healed his forearm the night we first met.”
“Yes.” I replied firmly. “Th-that was me.”
“I’m going to let you live on one condition, fish.” He said, eyes never wavering from mine like most people’s did. “If you really can heal wounds like that, heal mine. That dragon,” he spat the word, as if it were completely distasteful to allow Prism to be called by it, “did some impressive damage.”
Okay I admit it- by the time he was done talking I could do nothing more than openly stare at him as if he’d grown another head right before my eyes. He was asking for my help? Now that he mentioned it I could see the painful looking lacerations criss-crossing his front, his flanks, and his face. The blood was dark and against his black, rubbery skin so the marks had been practically invisible. I was impressed that he wasn’t out cold from either the blood loss or the pain; it said something of his character and strength of will.
“I c-can do that, I guess.” I said cautiously. Chancing to be just a little braver, I stood taller and met his eyes as best as I could. “But while I do so you’re going to need to talk to me.”
His eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought he was going to drop the offer and simply kill me but he seemed to think better of it eventually. Conceding, he nodded. “Fine.” He ran his eyes down the length of me and back, meeting my gaze. “Now what?”
“Now you come close and answer whatever I ask you while I tend to those wounds.” I said, as if I really did know what I was doing.
He bent and stretched out beside me, baring the majority of the lacerations to my view. “If you so much as think about making a wrong move I will bathe this sand in your blood and relish the taste of your flesh, fish.”
I gulped and moved forward, trying to get close enough to lick the wounds clean without appearing threatening. When I touched the tip of my tongue to his skin he flinched and growled but did not pull away as Prism had. I think he’d already guessed my manner of healing, unlike the older dragon. That, at least, I was grateful for.
“Where did you come from?” I asked quietly as I set upon the deepest of the lacerations. They were crusted with salt and tasted horrible- his blood was sour and there were traces of a limestone flavor.
Laying his head on the sand, he sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m not sure. I followed my mother for a long time. She didn’t have a home and she was never chased out of any territory she entered. No one would chase out a mother and her dragonet.”
Already I could see the wounds beginning to knit themselves closed. I paused a moment and picked at the greying flesh around the edges. “What happened to her?”
He was silent for a long time and I began to think that he would never answer me. I’d just thought up another question when he took a pointed breath and began talking quietly. “She was killed. We were passing the edges of this territory and she was killed by another sea dragon.”
That definitely sounded like it could spell bad news for Prism. “What? Why would a sea dragon kill another sea dragon!?” I exclaimed, pausing again to look at his face. It was scrunched up as though he were trying not to cry or scream. “Aren’t there rules against that sort of thing? Something that says you should protect each other?”
“Yes, but I don’t suppose that applies to the great Prismata.” He snorted derisively. “There was no one that he could have gotten into trouble with so he was free to do as he pleased.”
My only thought, really, was that I was relieved to hear it hadn’t been Prism that had killed this kid’s mother. Even I wouldn’t have dreamed of standing in the way of a fight over revenge. “Who was Prismata? I’m afraid I’m not exactly from around here.”
“You’re not a sprite?” He asked incredulously, swiveling his great head around to see me.
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m a pond dragon. I live ages from here- I’m quite lost, actually.”
After a scrutinous glare he seemed to decide I was telling the truth and laid back down, allowing me to continue my work. “Prismata was Prism’s father. He was one of the most gorgeous dragons out there, if not the most. Like father, like son, though. Prism takes after his father with that nasty attitude. Prismata ruled his territory as if he owned the souls of everything in it and it earned him a lot of hatred but there was no one who could contest his authority.”
“Did your mother try?” I asked between licks.
“It doesn’t matter if she did or not because he got it into that thick skull of his that she did.” He said scathingly, though I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “Right after he killed her he left- I suspect Prism had something to do with that. He knew my mother well.”
“What… was her name?” His lip curled in a snarl and I knew I had overstepped a boundary. “Nevermind.” We lapsed into silence as I tried to think of something else to ask, some other bit of information that might be useful to Prism or Kisana. “So then what are you still doing here? If Prism chased off his father, or even if you think he did, then why are you hanging around his territory; isn’t it dangerous? Won’t he just keep hurting you?”
“For a while, you’re probably right.” He said resignedly. “But everyone caves sometime. I don’t care that he chased away his father. My mother is dead and without her I will not be allowed to cross territory lines without being assaulted. As she died here then so should I be allowed to live here and I intend to prove that to him.”
I stared for a second, trying to comprehend. Was there some sort of code that said he had to settle where he was or could he try to find his own territory, away from Prism? If it were merely a territory issue then it would be easy to solve- politely ask the sprites for the nearest available area. “Does it have to be here, or could you settle somewhere else, somewhere that is not already taken?”
“I will take no other place.” He said it with such finality that I knew it didn’t matter what the rules were or whether there was available space. He wanted Prism’s territory and only Prism’s territory and he was going to get it if he had to die trying.
A little extreme if you ask me but I guess that’s the way the ocean most often is.
Although I knew there was more to ask, I let the silence envelop us as I worked. After a few minutes I smiled; Rife was making that same, pleasant thrumming noise that Prism had when I first cleaned his injuries. I closed my eyes and let myself fall just a little bit more into the trance, willing the time to go faster. It wouldn’t do to have anyone find me here, tending enemy’s wounds.
It was only when I moved to his snout, the lacerations that had laid bare the bone of his face, that he woke. With a snarl on his lips and in his voice, he pulled back and glared at me. “Those are fine.”
“They’re not fine.” I said firmly, knowing that if he left them that beautiful, fiery coloration would be marred unnecessarily. For some reason I didn’t want to see that happen- I know that we pond dragons are extraordinarily vain so that may have accounted for some of my reasoning.
“They’ll heal on their own.” He shot, eyes narrowed to slits.
“They’ll scar!” I protested, well aware that if I pushed this too far I would be in serious trouble. I’d defended myself against him momentarily before and this time there was no Prism to save me.
“So?” he began, I think intending to get away without further aid.
I could have none of that, though. I would not see beauty wasted, even if it was a rival or enemy. “So you want to leave ugly pink scars all across that pretty face?” I asked heatedly, forgetting somehow that he was well over three or four times my size. “That is what will happen if you leave them open to rot like that, especially since the bone is open like it is.”
He gave me a nasty look but I caught the glimmer of doubt and worry that flashed across his eyes. I knew he didn’t want to have his face scarred any more than I wanted to see it scarred. Beauty like his was something rare and being the vain, helpful creature that I am I was greatly relieved when he resigned himself to fate and bent, affording me a clear path to his snout.
Gently, I placed my paws on the sides of his snout and cleaned all of the wounds there as quickly and thoroughly as I could. Halfway through I smiled to see that he’d closed his eyes, although he was quite clearly containing the thrum from earlier. If ever I could find a way to tame this creature into becoming a friend as well, I would have to remember to tease him about it.
Finally I released him, sitting back on my heels and watching him draw slowly away from me. He broke the trance and leaned back, watching me skeptically. For a moment I was not sure what to think- was he going to attack? Leave? Say something profound?
With a small nod he gave me a very reluctant smile. “Thanks, kiddo.” He told me softly, dipping his slender head in a gesture reminiscent of a full bow. “I won’t tell Prism if you don’t.”
I swallowed nervously and inclined my head to him. “You’re a lot different than I thought you were, Rife.” I said, not sure if I should be trying to do anything more than let him leave in peace. “Don’t be too hard on Prism; he’s a good guy, I think. What you’re doing… well… it’s hurting him. I don’t know why or if that’s your intention but that’s what you’re doing. I don’t like to see friends get hurt.”
He gave me a studious look and then snorted, I think more to cover up a laugh than because he actually thought badly of what I’d said. “I’m sorry I attacked you, before. I thought you were one of his.”
“Do you think I’m not?” I asked, a little confused. If he knew I wasn’t a sprite them he knew I didn’t belong to the land. I certainly didn’t belong to Cybil and I doubted there was any other Chak’ra in the area for me to belong to. That really only left Prism, unless there were some other form of intelligent life lingering in the area that I had yet to learn about. With my luck, that could very well have been the case.
With a real laugh this time, he raised an eye ridge enigmatically. “I’m beginning to think that with how I’ve seen you taking care of him, he’s one of yours.”
I gaped as he turned from me, trying to think of something more intelligent to say than ‘…no!’ Unfortunately words escaped me and I could only watch as he moved away, heading for the edge of the island. I yanked myself from my startled reverie and dashed a few steps after him. “Rife! Hey, Rife!” I called, hoping he could hear me over the continuous noise of the ocean. He paused in mid step and looked over his shoulder curiously. “Take care of yourself!” I smiled and shouted as loudly as I could. “I don’t like seeing friends get hurt!”
His laughter drifted back to me on the breeze and I found myself hoping that I would get to see him again soon.
/End Chapter Twenty Seven, Adrift/
