Chapter Text
Peril opened her eyes, groggy from sleep. This usual sensation was unfortunately accompanied by an intense, low thrumming in her skull. She sat up sharply, clutching her head with a talon. Slowly, the pain began to fade and she dropped her arm down, exhaling in relief.
She looked around, expecting the red fabric and white walls of Ruby’s palace but was met with uneven walls and muted tones. She was in a cave. What? Had she already made it back to JMA and was experiencing some sort of vertigo? But this didn’t look like any room in the academy she’d been in, let alone her room. And… she’d like to say that Jade Mountain was decidedly more… clean. So, that left the question, where was she?
“Wha-” her exclamation of confusion was abruptly interrupted by her choking on air. She cleared her throat but then stopped. There was a notable difference in how her body felt. It felt… smaller.
“It’s too early, Spark.” A voice tiredly spoke out, causing Peril to whip her head around to identify the speaker. The dragon was shrouded in shadow and was lying down, back turned to her so she couldn't make out any details. “Go back to sleep.”
Peril stared at the figure for a moment, processing the statement.
“Are you talking to me?” she asked, trying to ignore the strange feeling of speaking. The dragon didn’t respond or move initially, but got up after a pause, turning and walking towards her. The dragon appeared to be a young male sandwing, about 6 or 7 years old. He stopped close to her but a decent distance away like a reasonable dragon, which made Peril realize that either this ‘Spark’ character was a firescales who looked enough like her to fool a tired dragon or that he knew who she was. He sat down and looked up at her.
“Sorry, have you been having nightmares again, Spark?” he asked, apologizing with his eyes.
“I’m… not Spark” Peril replied, “Um, who are you?”
The sandwing’s eyes widened, clicking his claws against the stone.
“...I’m Qibli.” he replied carefully, tipping his head forwards and down in a coaxing motion. He noticeably lacked a scar.
Peril thought about that for a moment before deciding that was, in fact, very wrong.
Breakfast was cows. The usual - at least, that’s what her new memories said. It was a very strange and dizzying thing that Peril wasn’t going to focus on more than was necessary. She had gone back to sleep after a brief conversation with older-Qibli. When she woke up, she ultimately decided that she was going to pretend that nothing had happened and that she wasn’t anybody but Spark - which she was but she was also Peril and her head was hurting again. Kestrel dropped a hunk of meat at her feet, looking at her questioningly.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Her voice was somewhat muted but not dead, like she was tired or sad. Apparently this was normal.
“I’m fine, mom.” Peril replied gently, taking the meat in her talons and taking a bite. At that moment older-Qibli had returned from fetching the older versions of Moon and Turtle.
“No.” He interjected, prompting her to roll her eyes, “She had another nightmare, Ms. Kestrel.”
Kestrel turned to look at her with concern whilst Peril shot Qibli a look of mock annoyance.
“ Qibli .” she said, in alignment of how Spark - who was her, she reminded herself - would’ve reacted, which came surprisingly naturally. She sighed, turning to her mother- her mother . “It’s… nothing, really.”
Moon cocked her head. Moon was- Moon was big . Well, she wasn’t the largest dragon, per se, but compared to young-Moon? Huge difference. Peril then remembered - or re-remembered? - that this Moon also had freaky nightwing powers that she probably couldn’t hide from.
“Do you want me to read to you tonight?” Turtle asked as Moon scrunched up her face in thought, “I really don’t mind.”
Turtle here was different in a different way. He was a bit larger, sure, but not to the extent of Moon, who was about the same size as him here. Older-Turtle was… slimmer? He had less volume in his body relative to young-Turtle and was a bit longer. She snorted. Dare she say that Turtle looked anywhere close to fit .
From what Peril had pieced together in the brief moment of clarity after waking up the second time when she was rudely awakened by someone, namely Winter, who was currently lounging by the river, was that she was in the cave that Clay and his friends grew up in. Also, she and the remaining original Jade Winglet minus Kinkajou (poor dragon, always seemed to miss out somehow) were the dragonets of destiny, what? Yeah, after sifting through her new memories, apparently she was a DoD now? And her age was shifted to match, which explained why talking felt so weird and how Qibli and the rest were bigger. Except Winter. He looked roughly the same, just scaled up slightly. So, that meant one of three things. Either this was a dream, there were some animus shenanigans going on or that her life as Peril had been a dream. The first was starting to look unlikely and she was desperately hoping the third wasn’t the case. She remembered that Turtle had asked her a question and decided to answer it rather than staring at him.
“That’d be nice; not because of nonexistent nightmares, I just like it when you read to me.” she replied. Turtle smiled brightly.
“Okay!” he said.
It was around midday - how she could tell, she didn’t know - when a large, imposing nightwing arrived. The guardians were all pretty on edge the whole day - there were five guardians, she was pretty sure Clay had said three , and she was pretty sure two of them were either courting or pining for each other - and this was probably why. Peril wasn’t scared of most dragons, wary, sure, and most whom she feared were from past trauma, like Scarlet. But this dragon gave an air of… authoritative death, was the way to put it. Listen to him or risk the worst of dragonkind. Also, she was pretty sure that he was killing them in his mind or something. He was surveying the dragonets, looking at them all with contempt, but when he got to Winter his face rippled in disgust. He pivoted his head slowly to glare down at her mom, who managed to hold her ground. The large black dragon lifted one long claw, slowly, ever so slowly, and pointed at Winter, who flinched back.
“What. Is. THAT?” he said, voice loaded with enough venom to kill twenty dragons mid flight.
Turtle took a step back, pupils constricted. Peril glanced at Winter, who seemed to want to appear unfazed but was trembling slightly
“There was an accident.” Kestrel said coolly, very unlike what Peril had gathered from her memory, “We lost the mudwing egg. We had to get one from somewhere else- ”
“From the- ” Morrowseer, as Peril finally remembered, tried to interrupt, but Kestrel was not easily moved, continuing resolutely.
“-in case the prophecy was salvageable.”
Surprisingly, Webs stepped up.
“We have five dragonets.” he said, “That’s all that matters.”
Morrowseer peered down at Winter for a few more moments in revulsion. Peril wondered why Hvitur had not yet spoken up as he was quite protective over the dragonets, going as far as being the ‘father figure’ dragon of the five guardians. She quickly looked around the room to find that he was absent. She tried to discreetly turn to Turtle to ask about him.
“Oh,” Turtle whispered back, “he’s in the scroll cave. He’s an icewing; didn’t want to provoke Morrowseer, Moon said.” Peril nodded. However, it seemed that they weren’t discrete enough and Morrowseer turned to look at them. He specifically focused on her, face unreadable.
“What’s wrong with this one?” he growled out, a low rumble, flicking his tail in her direction. “She seems to be… defective. You are aware of the policies on defects in the Sky Kingdom, yes?”
Mom looked like she wanted to practically rip his eyes out and shove it down his throat. Her outrage was contained to seething, though barely.
“ Those ‘policies’ are precisely why I left, Morrow-seer. ” She pronounced each syllable of his name with emphasis, as if forcing herself to eat a food she disliked to reinforce her contempt; the way she spoke was a borderline hiss. Peril had never seen her mother so angry at another individual, not here or in the other world.
…
Yeah, that’s what she's going to call it from now on. Clears up a lot of confusion.
Morrowseer actually reacted to Kestrel, shifting a talon slightly to give himself a better stance and raising a brow. The two had a stare down for a short eternity before the nightwing flicked his tail and walked over to Moon, his every movement being set aflame in mom’s gaze.
“We’ll talk about the icewing later.” he said before promptly dragging Moon into a separate cave by her arm. Moon looked very much like she didn’t want to be in such a situation and, to be fair, Peril wouldn’t either.
As soon as they were out of earshot - well, Moon might still be able to hear - Kestrel let out an agonized breath, shaking. Asha put a tentative talon on her back to try to sooth her. Dune just sat there, arms crossed. Webs held his head low, looking at the ground.
“How dare he talk about the dragonets like that.” Kestrel choked out through heavy breaths. “He called my daughter defective. Defective . My daughter .” She stumbled forward but was caught by Asha and she curled into herself. There was a clamor of talons and suddenly Hvitur was in the room, gazing over everyone, evaluating their expressions. Asha looked up at him with tearful eyes, though not quite crying.
“What happened? I heard a lot of noise.”
Nothing was said for a while. Winter was on the floor and Turtle had been staring where Morrowseer had been. Qibli looked like he had been bitten. Eventually, Webs looked up.
“Come on.” He said, voice tender. “We need to talk.”
He moved to walk away. Dune followed suit. Hvitur stood in the doorway, breathing and looking at Asha for advice, who just shrugged, gesturing towards the two departing guardians with her snout. He nodded and followed them.
Asha nudged Kestrel lightly and whispered something in her ear. Kestrel had a delayed reaction, shaking her head and eventually getting up to follow the others.
“Mom?” Peril said before she could fully leave the room, surprising herself when her voice cracked.
“Yes, Spark?” she asked, quiet and raw, turning her head to see her. Peril gulped.
“I love you.”
There was a moment of silence as Kestrel processed.
“I love you, too.”
“We’re leaving”
Peril looked up from the stone tablet she was reading, finding Winter in front of her.
“Excuse me, what?”
Winter tilted his head in a way that somehow conveyed urgency. As far as Peril could tell he’d always been like that in both worlds.
“We’re leaving.” He repeated, “Pack your…” he paused, remembering her condition, “Pack what you can,” he amended, “The guardians want us at the entrance cave by midnight.” He then turned to leave. Peril sat there for a moment as she digested the information before jumping up to her talons in alarm.
“What?” she asked, this time in confusion rather than clarification, “We’re leaving?”
Winter nodded.
“The guardians have deemed this place unsafe.” And he promptly left, leaving Peril alone in the cave. She stood there for a moment before racing off to collect the few valuables she owned in this world. This included a couple small stone tablets, a few toy’s she was given as a hatchling and her griddle, predictably also made of stone. Well, the base was made of stone. The top where the food would be cooked was fashioned by a hardy metal in order to conserve some of the heat. The rest was stone because she was hot enough to make the poor heat conduction of stone not matter. According to Spark’s memories, she was given it for her fifth hatching day, the same one where Moon was given her crescent necklace. The griddle was actually her largest possession; the stone tablets were rather small and thin and the griddle was about two-thirds as long as she was.
As quickly as she could, which wasn’t very, due to what she was carrying, she made her way to the entrance cave where she found everyone waiting. Turtle was carrying a few bags, probably filled with his story scrolls. There were only three bags, so she assumed he left all of his blank ones behind. Moon had barely anything with her, only a single pouch. Qibli had his guitar slung around his back and was holding a small box. He looked especially disappointed, most likely because he couldn’t bring his drums, another turning-five present. Winter had a tan bag covered with color and drawings, filled with his art supplies. The guardians had their own possessions as well as a few necessities. Peril put her things down, heaving. Kestrel stepped forward.
“Everyone here?” she called. She was answered by a variety of scattered responses. She nodded. “Stand back.” she ordered and took a string, setting it alight. There were a few tense moments of nothing, before suddenly the cave shook and trembled with a mighty boom, making her flinch.
“What was that?” Peril exclaimed.
“She blew up the cave so that Morrowseer can’t get to us.” Moon said plainly.
“Okay!” Kestrel shouted, trying to be heard over the collapsing tunnel, “Everyone out, quickly!” She then took Peril’s - well, Spark’s, but right now they were one in the same - griddle, slinging it over her back in a way that didn’t obstruct her wings. Everyone funneled through the one-dragon wide doorway as swiftly as possible, Hvitur going last to make sure everyone was out. There was a deafening roar that pierced the sky, big and echo-y, sound escaping and being amplified by the skyhole.
“Doesn’t sound like Mr. Seer was too happy about that.” Qibli unhelpfully commented.
They were resting by a river, taking a break from flying all morning. It wasn’t yet noon, but the sun was high. Turtle, Moon and Winter were taking a swim whilst Qibli rested on the bank fiddling with his guitar. The guardians were mostly stretching and resting their wings, making plans for what they should do moving forward. Peril hummed a tune, sitting on a large flat stone part of the bank, absently listening to their conversation whilst periodically turning the meats. She could without burning them, after all, it was called firescales, not fire-claws. Honestly, she wished she had figured this out in the other world. Though, it seemed growing up with Turtle and Qibli’s ideas lent some benefits. If she somehow finds a way back, though, that’d be nice, as long as that didn’t strip these dragons of Spark. She couldn’t do that to them, especially not this Kestrel.
“We need to contact the Talons.” Webs insisted. Peril flicked her ears in their direction. “They need to know what’s going on.” Mom grumbled.
“We know , Webs,” she said wearily, “But we have many other things to worry about first.” she looked up from the knife she was sharpening - a present from her father, apparently. Whether or not it was Chameleon, Peril wasn’t sure (nor was Spark), but she might give this version of him a chance if he was willing to part with precious items like the ornate blade mom carried. “We can’t stay in one place for long,” Kestrel continued, “we need every dragon available to help but we can’t stay with the Talons. They’re too large and have a massive target on their backs already. It’s extremely risky. Three dragons can’t protect themselves and five others, and if we do send a message, it has to be two dragons.”
Dune had a stone face, as usual, but Asha looked particularly out of it. Hvitur was a bit absent; flying in the summer heat didn’t serve an icewing well. So, unusually, Webs was the most active participant besides mom.
“We can’t manage like this by ourselves for long.” He pushed. “We need support.”
Kestrel exhaled a long breath.
“I know , Webs. I know. ”
Peril noticed that the food was done cooking and gladly interrupted the discussion, calling everyone in for a late breakfast and sliding the griddle off her tail.
“Food’s ready.” she called, keeping her voice audible but not harsh.
Asha walked up in between Kestrel and Webs, putting a talon on both of their shoulders.
“Come,” she said with pleading eyes, “Let’s take a break.”
Kestrel gladly accepted, tension releasing from her shoulders as she made her way to the eating area. Webs looked like he wanted to continue, but acquiesced. Asha looked at the two depart with worry, holding out an arm in half-reach. Hvitur strode up beside her, eyes half closed and wings almost open. He leaned into her, shaking his head.
“I feel like I’m going to pass out.” He breathed, trying to pry his eyes open. Asha turned to face him.
“... Go take a lay down.” she said, “I’ll have Winter prepare some ice for you. What food would you like?”
Hvitur inched his head in her direction, looking at her through the side of his eye.
“What did Spark prepare?” he asked.
“Medium rare to well done steak, grilled fish or cold soup.” Peril called from across the clearing. She had prepared the soup warm initially but had it cooled down by Winter. Hvitur held his head down - an easy feat, considering his posture was originally as so - in thought.
“... Soup.” he said eventually before being escorted to a shady spot to rest by Asha.
It was a quiet morning. They had stayed in the same place overnight to let Hvitur rest. It was nice. Winter had taken this opportunity to paint the scenery; he had set up a foldable easel by the river and was halfway finished. Moon had briefly confronted her about ‘Peril’ but it was dealt with quickly and she was very understanding about it; she was surprisingly okay with her not wanting to explain everything. Currently, she was in the middle of playing a verbal game with Qibli. It was quite entertaining. What she found very amusing about this Qibli was that he had a habit of referring to every adult dragon as ‘Mr.’, ‘Ms.’ or ‘Mrs.’ which Peril figured was probably because he didn’t grow up with Cobra as a parent in the cut-throat-ness of the Scorpion Den.
…
I wonder how Thorn is doing.
Asha and Webs weren’t here, though. It had been decided that they should be the ones to deliver the message, so they were off doing that.
Peril heard talons behind her and saw Qibli look up. She turned around to find Dune standing there.
“Dune?” she said.
“May I sit here?” he asked. Peril blinked, surprised by the question. Dune had always been the most distant guardian, not saying much and rarely interacting with her or the other dragonets.
“Um, I don’t mind- Qibli?”
The dragon in question shrugged, gesturing to a spot on the sand next to them. Dune walked over and sat down with a huff. Peril and Qibli continued their little game, bouncing back and forth. It was a story game, introduced to the group by Turtle. You would be presented with a situation by someone and you would have to respond with what you would do. The other dragon would, in turn, explain the outcome of your actions and so on.
“Bad idea.” Dune interjected one moment.
“... huh?” Peril asked, turning to face him.
“You risk harming the rest of the group. A better idea would be to go around.”
She thought about that for a moment.
“Okay.” she said, telling Qibli that she would do that instead. He looked quite amused and they continued, Dune adding input every so often.
Lunch hadn’t yet come when the sky filled up with the sound of wingbeats and a maniacal laughter that haunted her dreams. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother flinch.
Scarlet .
Peril turned to face her mother, who seemed to be running through every possibility in her head staring at the descending red shadow. After a moment’s stillness she flicked her head towards Hvitur, awake and looking much better.
Run. She mouthed. Get out of here. Get help .
Hvitur promptly dashed through the forest, Scarlet and her guards never knowing he was ever there - in part due to because he was resting in the far side of the clearing under shade.
Scarlet and her seventeen guards landed heavily, scattered across the glade. Slowly the queen of blood lifted her head, as if she were the star of a play.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled out excitedly in her I’m-going-to-enjoy-watching-you-suffer way, “what do we have here?”
Kestrels eyes were contracted beyond belief, staring at her nightmare.
“Nothing to say, Kestrel, dear?” Scarlet spoke, ever grandiloquent and glib, “How about we play a familiar game. Ooh! And we have a river here, too! Perfect, wouldn’t you say, Kessie?”
That got Kestrel to react, digging her claws in and gritting her teeth. It took Peril longer to realize that she was talking about Sky.
“ No. ” Kestrel hissed. Peril assumed this back-and-forth would go on for a lot longer but Winter decided to blast a skywing in the head with frost breath.
Peril was suddenly restrained by a material she didn’t recognize in the form of a net that somehow didn’t catch fire. Almost all of the guards descended upon Winter but were intercepted by Dune, who actually managed to fight off several of them. Moon was handling herself pretty well, considering her senses were most likely overloaded right now. Qibli and Turtle had joined forces which was able to handle two guards decently. Mom had been trying to fight off the three guards on her whilst attempting to free Peril, who was still stuck in the fireproof net.
Everything came to a halt when a reverberating crack rang out.
Scarlet yawned.
Dune was dead.
Notes:
Edit: word correction - girdle to griddle
Chapter 2: The Perilous Prophesy pt. 2
Summary:
The Jade Winglet become prisoners of the Sky Kingdom
Notes:
So, to clear things up, the 'reset' is set a little after canon, as Peril knows Sky's name, ect. Because the system was being funny, here's the memory explanation again:
At the start of each section that represents a book, the character corresponding to that book will regain their memories of canon.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Scarlet’s prisoners were kept in the sky.
This was nothing new to Peril. However, actually being a prisoner did put things into perspective. The rods and clamps keeping her trapped were all lined with that weird fireproof material. Where did Scarlet get it from? There certainly wasn’t any of the sort back in the other world, otherwise she definitely would’ve abused it. But what changed here? But besides that dilemma there wasn’t much to do or think about. Well, things that she wanted to think about, anyways. She’d rather not dwell on what happened to Dune. Or any one of her friends and family, for that matter. So being a prisoner was rather boring. How did Clay and the others manage to deal with this?
She sighed, shifting her position. These pillars weren’t built with comfort in mind, that’s for sure. Already one day into this, how could she survive? One thing she noticed, though, was that there was an arena but no battle had occurred yesterday. She wondered whether that meant there were any fights or if Scarlet had a champion, actually. Peril raised her brows at the thought. Yes, that was something to think about. Would Scarlet have a champion? There had certainly been some before her, but their purposes had been varied and most were under a different ruler.
… Had Scarlet found a different ‘weapon’?
Peril huffed out a warm stream of air, flicking her tail. The sentiment had made her unusually irritated. Jealousy? She was familiar with the emotion, but never in this context. But there was also… sympathy? A sense of kinship? Whatever it was, she felt for whatever dragon Scarlet had turned into her instrument, if they existed. Once more stealing one’s life to further her own goals… that certainly sounded like Scarlet.
Peril was so engrossed in thought, however, that she did not notice a flurry of wings approach her, landing on the edge of her pillar.
“...I’ve brought you your breakfast.” Peril looked up at the speaker, shocked that there was a dragon there. She couldn’t make out any details as he was standing in front of the sun, but his voice was clear and… humble. He sounded like hot chocolate and almonds, if that made any sense. The strange dragon pushed the hunk of meat towards her, drawing back quickly in a way that was both encouraging and tentative. “No one else wanted to deliver food to the firescales.” Peril sighed. That wasn’t anything new. “They were too scared.” She took the meat and began eating.
“And you weren’t?” she asked between bites. She didn’t recognize his voice, which was unusual. After she was un-banished she got to know most of the dragons working in the palace. Sure, some dragons may have quit, been fired or retired between this point in the other world and then, but he sounded very young and so he was probably really good at what he did and was unlikely that he was fired as Ruby took over soon after. He shifted, allowing her to see a glimpse of color, a splash of purple beaming off of his face. That wasn’t a skywing color.
“I’m fireproof.” he responded quickly, automatically. He flinched back soon after, covering his mouth with a talon. “Sorry.” he mumbled before throwing himself off of the pillar. Peril didn’t look after him, instead choosing to sit stunned about what he had said. How did Scarlet always seem to find a dragon with fire-related abilities or abnormalities? What tribe was this dragon? He didn’t look like a mudwing or skywing - the two tribes she knew of with such dragons - his colors were all wrong and he had a different build.
She peeked over the edge of the pillar to try and get a look of him. He was far enough now that any details were lost, but she managed to catch him gliding down to the Queen’s box. He seemed to have blue and purple scales and rather large wings. Was he a hybrid? At least now she had something interesting to think about.
She then realized that she forgot to thank him for the food.
The arena battle was nothing interesting. The champion was some skywing she didn’t know who dealt with Horizon pretty swiftly. It was really, really hard to not pay attention to the fight after she had satisfied her curiosity on the champion. Not because she enjoyed watching but because the sounds were just so loud and clear and she could visualize what was going on in her head without looking and even though she tried to block out the sound she just couldn’t -
She didn’t have a good time.
The dragon who had given her food had, surprisingly, turned up again late afternoon as the last bits of sun were leaving, lying down on her pillar. Apparently, there was a party going on that he didn’t want to attend and he figured that she might be lonely because of her condition. Which was weird. And nice of him. But that wasn’t what she was focusing on right now. He was a silkwing . One she recognized, too.
“ Blue? ” she blurted out, causing him to look up at her.
“Yes…? I am.” he said slowly, clearly not understanding what she actually meant, “Oh. Did you not notice before? …Right, I was standing in front of the sun, sorry.” Peril shook her head.
“No, I… never mind.” She sighed, resting her head on the grainy, dusty surface. Blue wasn’t somebody she had known particularly well ; she had interacted with him a few times when he happened to be in sanctuary at the same time as her and when the second inter-continental Queen’s Council was held. But seeing him here was especially strange. What else has changed? Did she really know anything anymore? Or was she going into this blind? She decided to do the polite thing to take her mind off of her problems and introduce herself.
“I’m… Spark. It’s nice to meet you.” There was a pause before she lifted her talon for a talon-shake, remembering that he was fireproof. The realization filled her with an unreasonable amount of giddiness of being able to actually do so, for once. Although it was a little embarrassing to almost mess up introducing herself for the first time; she was about to refer to herself as Peril. Older-Blue (from what Sky had told her, he had gained his wings after the false-brightest night in the other world, yet he had them here) glanced at her outstretched talon, choosing instead to dip his head in a bow, placing a talon over his heart.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, “my name is Cobalt.”
Peril pulled her talon back, a bit disappointed.
Cobalt… it’s not a bad alternative name, by any means.
She nodded, nudging the air with her snout in his direction.
“So, Cobalt,” she asked, “I’ve noticed that you’re not a skywing. What do you do here?”
He shifted uncomfortably, averting his gaze to the fleeting orange streaks in the sky.
“... It’s hard to describe,” he replied, “I do many odd jobs around the palace,” he grimaced, “sort of like a servant, I guess, but I’m not. I don’t really want to talk about it…” he trailed off. Peril hummed absentmindedly.
“That’s fine.” she said. “I don’t like talking about my previous job either.”
Blue - or Cobalt, as he seemed to be called here - appeared to be mollified by that, the corners of his mouth twitching up slightly and lying back down. They remained in comfortable silence until the party was over.
It was sunny and windy as always on the sky pillar. Peril had taken up just resting her head on the stone as there had been little to do but positioning her head close to the edge so she could see if there was something interesting going on. Which was how she was able to see four guards take four prisoners to the palace, one being a nightwing. There was only one nightwing prisoner. This was not good news. She was considering attempting to escape when a now familiar face came into view. Cobalt hovered over her like the moon on a clear night, looking down on her not in contempt, but because that simply was where she was.
“You have an audience with the Queen,” he said. There was no inflection in his voice, it was not monotone, it was just a statement, nothing more. “Please do not resist.” That, too, had been part of whatever protocol he seemed to be following, but there was a hint of pleading in there. Peril nodded in agreement as he unlocked her bindings. She shook out her wings; they were free for the first time in days. Blue- Cobalt - inspected her, head tilted as she oriented herself.
“Trying to fight every guard wasn’t something I was planning to do, but now I guess I wont get the chance to, anyway.” She commented jokingly, turning her head up to face him properly. His eyes widened slightly before he turned around.
“Follow me.” he said, voice wavering faintly. Peril nodded, instantly face-taloning as he was facing away from her.
He stooped down, gliding to a once familiar balcony. She sighed, taking longer than usual to take off.
They landed softly on the outermost protrusion of the balcony to avoid stepping on the carpet. They walked a few steps in, Peril closely inspecting the floor fabric as she approached it. It was red with gold, orange and yellow patterns along the edges. Surprisingly, it was not tasseled. She had pinned Scarlet as a tassel dragon.
Scarlet smiled, displaying all of her teeth and malice in one efficient motion.
“Ah, Aqua, you’ve finally decided to join us!” she flourished, stepping down from her embezzled chair. Cobalt flinched. “And you've brought our little friend. How wonderful .”
Peril bristled, trying not to visibly react. They were much less than not friends.
“Now,” Scarlet continued, “we have several matters to discuss. First and foremost, Kestrel’s daughter!” she turned to look at her, “Your dear mother was so rude as to not introduce you to me,” and Peril would’ve preferred never seeing her again, “would you be so kind as to do so yourself?”
There was a pause longer than warranted with the Queen never wavering in her expression, smirking down at her with all the air of superiority Peril remembered.
“... Spark.” she replied, empty face, dulled voice, “Your majesty.” she added reluctantly, not wanting to brave the consequences. Winter shot her a weird look at that. Scarlet's grin somehow grew even larger.
“Ah, Spark .” she said her name as if she were turning food over inside her mouth, feeling over the textures and flavors. “What an… unexciting name.” Peril really, really wanted to point out that ‘Scarlet’ was objectively worse in that department. Instead, she just, quite literally, bit her tongue. “Spark.” Scarlet went on, wrinkling her snout in amusement, for what Peril didn’t know, “I have an… opportunity for you.”
Peril instinctively took a step back, pupils contracting. Cobalt glanced at her out the corner of her vision. Scarlet rolled her eyes.
“Oh, don’t be like that.” Scarlet flared her wings. “I assure you, this offer is quite… thrilling .”
Peril started breathing heavily, feeling faint. Scarlet raised a brow, turning to the other dragonets, who looked equally as confused but considerably more concerned. She simply shrugged at that and continued her spiel.
“Now, I don’t believe in blaming dragons for their relative’s mistakes, even their parents,” a lie , Peril knew, “so I’d like to give you a chance.” she paused for dramatic effect, holding out her arms and spreading her wings full length in a grandiose pose. The effect was slightly inhibited by her stature. “How would you feel about working in the palace, directly under me?”
There was a yelp of surprise, the perpetrator receiving a death glare from the Queen. Peril hadn’t noticed that there were other dragons besides the guards, Scarlet herself, Cobalt and her group. Despite the glare, Vermillion still spoke.
“Your majesty?” he said, talon raised in half step. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Scarlet sat like a patient snake, clicking her tongue, eyes narrowed. Ruby gave her brother a concerned look.
“Are you doubting your Queen’s decision, Vermillion?” Her voice was level; a genuine question in tone, but behind her eyes was a detailed vision of the pain and suffering he would endure should he answer incorrectly.
Vermillion shrunk back.
“No, your majesty.”
The brilliant, blinding crocodile smile returned to Scarlet’s face in full force, uncanny and razor-sharp.
“Good.” She turned back to Peril, inspecting her claws. “I’m terribly sorry for the interruption, dear, where were we?” Nobody answered. Scarlet snapped her claws and brightened, “Ah, that's right , the job offer. So, do you accept? I’m afraid that if you don’t, then you’d be officially an exiled dragon within our borders and we’d, unfortunately, have to kill you on the spot.”
There were a few yelps of protest from her friends (except Moon), but they were swiftly silenced by their guards.
Peril thought her options over. On one talon, she really didn’t want to be involved with anything remotely connected to that dragon, but on another, these dragons definitely had the tools to take her out. She couldn’t protect her friends if she was dead. But Scarlet probably - most definitely - didn’t have anything benevolent planned for her. She grumbled, closing her eyes. Then again , it would be much easier to get everyone out if she was ‘guaranteed’ safety, because that was literally the only reason Clay and his friends escaped last time, even if she betrayed them first. …Yeah, not one of her proudest moments. She glanced at the dragon beside her. Cobalt didn’t look very happy with Scarlet’s rule… maybe she could convince him to help? But if Scarlet found out… she could threaten to hurt Turtle and the rest.
Peril placed her talon securely on the ground.
“I accept.”
The way Scarlet’s smile widened could not be described. The way her friends reacted was predictable. The way her heart dropped was probably a warning.
Scarlet clasped her front talons together.
“Wonderful, wonderful!” even the seasoned, stone-faced guards were perturbed by the Queen. “Aqua, lead her to her room, would you? I still have other matters to attend to.” she gave the rest of the dragonets of destiny a predatory smile.
Cobalt paled.
“Yes, your majesty.” His voice was barely a whisper.
All of the floors were carpeted. Usually this would be a problem for Peril. Apparently, this time it was not. When she initially hesitated stepping on it Cobalt had assured her it was fine. She was still a bit worried that it might spontaneously combust. Peril had noticed that almost every dragon they passed looked at Cobalt before noticing her, which was beyond weird for her. Not because she thought she was really all that important, that is, it’s just that she’s a random firescales that’s walking around the palace hall. He might be getting the treatment because he’s not a skywing. That… It's not okay , but it makes sense. Cobalt had his head down for almost the entire trip. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the looks or not - he had been like this before they had encountered another dragon, maybe he anticipated it? - but he did seem rather troubled in Scarlet’s presence, also. They had traversed about two floors already - the palace had five and they had started on the second, where in the world did Scarlet put her room? - when she decided to say something.
“... Cobalt?” she asked, probing as gently as she could manage, “are you alright?”
He only lifted his head an inch, turning his eyes to her. His scales seemed to gleam less, their shininess dulled. Cobalt sighed.
“Not really…” he walked hastily but not fast, placing each talon with a desperate want to get away but lacking the motivation to do so, his voice was muted and lacked shape. He was shaking. “It’s been hard since mom died.”
Oh.
Is he an orphan? Or is he not because he’s now an adult? Is he considered an adult? I’m pretty sure silkwings are considered adults when they get their wings at six, but here in the Sky Kingdom it’s at seven.
Peril shook her head, trying to clear it. Those things weren’t really important right now. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then committed.
“... Do you have a father?”
Cobalt stopped walking. As she was now trailing him from her contemplation she couldn’t see his expression. He lifted his head up like a crane. She was starting to worry she had made a grave mistake before he turned to face left with a neutral expression.
“We’re here.” He lifted a talon to present the door on the left to her. He thought for a moment, turning his head to her. “Did you say something?”
Peril sat there, staring, like a dragonet in the market.
“Uh… nevermind?” she lifted her wings in a shrugging motion. Cobalt accepted the answer, tipping his horn to her before walking into the room, pushing past the door. Peril watched him go, for a moment, fiddling with her wing-claw. She must’ve not said it out loud, which was lucky because she was starting to regret the choice. Spark had an odd habit of saying things in her head instead of out loud; it seemed some of her habits had stuck despite the new memories. She followed Cobalt into the room, talon hovering over the doorknob. Cobalt looked up from the scroll he was inspecting, hearing her enter.
“Oh, don’t worry. Everything in here is fireproofed.”
Peril looked at him blankly. Everything in here was fireproof? Everything ?
“... Everything?” she asked, voice cracking. He tilted his head curiously, giving a small nod.
“Everything.” He confirmed.
Why? Why would Scarlet just have a room entirely fireproofed? Did she predict having a firescales guest? Was she planning this all along? Or was this prepared in the last day and a half when she was captured?
“When?” she asked, taking a step forward.
He dipped his head down, studying the ground in thought.
“... Maybe five, six years? I’m not sure, but I know it’s been a while since I did it.”
Perils' brain halted once more. She should probably get that checked out, because, honestly, it was quite obvious with the whole flamesilk thing - which he was because he was fireproof and silkwings weren’t fireproof normally, as far as she knew - that he was the reason Scarlet, and the Sky Kingdom by extension, had such good fireproofing.
… wait, did he say five to six years ago? He would’ve been, like, two , max.
Cobalt shifted uncomfortably in her silence, rolling up the scroll.
“... I’ll show you around the room?” he said, more of a question than a statement. Peril let out a breath.
“Sure.” He nodded, turning and sweeping out one pair of wings.
“This is the main living area. You have this desk here,” he gestured to the cedar structure he was standing next to. On it was an assortment of stationary - an inkwell, a wax stamp, ect - and a scroll fashioned from paper with a yellow-ish tint and a slightly glossy surface, “next to this shelf for scrolls and other items,” the shelf was, too, made of cedar and the few scrolls under the space labelled ‘blank’ - the second from the top on the left column of the two - had the same color and texture as the one on the desk, “you have a floor lounge over there,” he flicked a tail towards the other side of the room where, in fact, there was a soft-looking, half-ring shaped piece of furniture. It was an orange-y red and made of fleece, and scattered on top there was an assortment of cushions of various textures and sizes, but they were all of the same color scheme: red and orange with muted yellows and brown tones like beige and chocolate. The whole room in general held a very warm, cozy feel, all the wooden furniture being made of cedar. This was backdropped by a grey stone wall and the familiar gold-filled cracks, though it was mostly covered with all of the furniture and fabrics, “that,” he gestured to one of two archways on the far side of the room to the door, “leads to your sleeping area. You should have a bedside drawer? But if you don’t you can just ask the furnishers to get you one, if you want. I think you have a balcony from your room, too. The other archway leads to storage. Food, paper, ect. There’s also a basin in there, I don’t know why, though.”
Peril had been silently nodding along, taking in the information.
“Okay.” she said, not sure what else there was to say. She walked over to the lounge, looking to Cobalt for assurance. He made a head gesture that said ‘go ahead’ so she stepped onto it and got comfortable, laying down. She found it was less of a lounge and more of a really big, fancy bean bag that was very comfortable. Cobalt stayed standing by the desk, awkwardly watching her.
Peril wasn’t paying attention to him, however, she had other things on her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to sink lower into the soft fabric.
Despite how calm things seemed right now, she was in a very tight position. Scarlet probably had or will have eyes on her, watching her every move. She might’ve bought herself and her - she didn't have a better word - family, but there was a very slim margin of error. One wrong half-step could kill everyone she cared about here. And, also, Ruby. This wasn't really related, but Ruby held no contempt for her here. Peril could kindle a relationship there. If she had still been the champion here, she didn't know if she could do it. A very specific set of events had to have happened for them to be on good terms last time. There was also the issue of did Scarlet still have access to Chameleon ? She assumed yes, as Ruby existed - wow how was going to handle that ? - but also he still, apparently, had a good relationship with her mother, so… Wait, Osprey’s still alive . … He probably won't die this time, that was her fault. She can contact him after they solve the whole war thing. If they solved the whole war thing.
As she was musing there was a knock at the door. Blue- Cobalt , dangit - immediately straightened his posture, ears flicking up as Peril looked to the door as well. He looked to her, gesturing to the door, to which she nodded. He cleared his throat, shaking out his wings. His voice when he spoke was nothing like she had heard before. It was clear, very clear, and had weight but still carried his characteristic humility, encouraging an equal conversation.
“You may come in.”
The door creaked open, revealing a skywing, crimson and holding himself straight, clad in black armor.
“Your presence is required in the throne room, Prince Cobalt.”
Notes:
I *think* I'm going to make each book three chapters, but that might not end up being the case. Blue is here as a remnant of when I was planning to do all 15 books. The arc 3 protags for arc 2, the DoDs for arc 3. He was supposed to be the champion and, therefore, the book 8 protagonist. Here's the order of the protags and would've-been protags if you're interested:
1: Peril
2: Turtle
3: Winter
4: Moon
5: Qibli
6: Sundew
7: Snowfall
8: Blue
9: Luna
10: Cricket
11: Sunny
12: Starflight
13: Tsunami
14: Glory
15: Clay
Chapter Text
It was the first time since Peril had found herself in another world where she had a good night's rest. She should’ve felt grateful, but her mind was only clouded by guilt. Her sleep should’ve been plagued by nightmares, she should’ve been woken in the middle of the night, breath hasty, heart beating fast. Instead, she had slept peacefully, not a single image of her winglet’s struggle in her dreams.
How dare she.
Not much had occurred since the prince left. The prince . Peril took a deep breath. Several, actually. It was fine, fine . She had her own secrets; he was allowed to have his own. Mostly, how? How was a silkwing a prince? How in the three moons? Peril paused in her pacing she had taken up since she had woken - she was not sure what she was allowed to do at the moment, best to play it safe.
I guess it’s not… completely unreasonable. After all, my and the other’s hatchingdays are all on the brightest night now, something certainly impossible in the other world.
She was totally going to grill him when he came back. Wait, no, he was nice… hm. Peril took a cushion from the couch, hugging it to her chest as she took a seat. Hopefully Cobalt comes back soon…
Cobalt was having… a day. His cousin had visited earlier, which was nice. Completely unlike the storm that was coming. Cliff had always liked him. Mostly because Aunt Ruby liked him. Or so she said. He was pretty sure she just felt sorry for him, just like everyone else. Cliff was saying how amazing he was (he wasn’t) and how many dragons probably looked up at him (none) and how he’d make an amazing mate and father, because Aunt Ruby mentioned he was getting to that age (he wouldn’t). Cobalt had then spent the next hour entertaining the little prince with games like Scales and Squares and Red Kingdom (two board games Cliff had initially displayed a distaste for, but had immediately changed his mind upon learning his cousin quite liked them) before his mother came around to pick him up. Ruby had looked… very out of breath when she came knocking at his door, like she had flown to Jade Mountain and back. She had taken her son back with apologies spilling out of her mouth (he’d assured her it was fine. Motherhood was tough) before she had left, Cliff in tow.
Then the Queen wanted to see him, and all color left his day. Hasn’t yesterday been enough? He was requested to meet with her three times about this already! A claw got caught on the red carpet that lined the halls. Pulling it free, he noticed he was shaking, shaking all over. His wings were hitting against each other, making a light buzzing sound that echoed in his brain. Eyes widening, he pulled his wings into his body with his arms, hugging them to his chest, breathing uneven.
It didn’t help. It never helped.
A tapping on his shoulder revealed to him a rusty skywing maid (why wouldn’t they be skywing? He was the odd one out) skittish and small, a prey-ish look on her face. She reached out with her voice, too afraid or too touchy to make contact with him again.
“My prince?” He was no prince, and certainly not hers, “Are you okay? Would you like some water? I wouldn’t mind getting you some.” She offered him a gentle smile, spine scales flexing. Blue looked at her, this young dragon trying to just earn some coin by working a high-pressure job where she could get executed if she stood wrong, trying and flying the extra lap to comfort him. If she tried that around Queen Scarlet… He swallowed, replenishing the air in his lungs. Many things were on his mind, like your kindness is a treasure and I can find you a more accommodating job and how has palace life allowed someone like you to exist?
“Thanks for offering.” He told her instead. “I… I think I’ll manage. Thank you for offering.” These walls had taught him through experience that some thoughts must not be spoken, even if it is right. He returned her a smile, washing away the twitchiness. Her own smile softened into one of pleasure, wings relaxing.
“It’s no problem, my prince. Anything you need, just ask.”
Cobalt hummed.
“I will.” He wouldn’t.
The maid made her way down her original path, steps lighter than they had been, leaving Cobalt before that accursed door to the throne room. Taking one more moment of solace, he set his scales right.
He pushed through the door.
Six years ago
Mom was arguing with grandma again. How did he know? Well, Auntie Ruby always read him stories to distract him. It was nice, but Cobalt wished he could spend more time with mom. Why did she always argue with grandma, anyway? Grandma has a very busy job ruling the kingdom. He, for one, was very grateful. Without grandma, he wouldn’t have a mom or a house. Flexing his wingbuds and shifting on the cushions, he looked up into his Auntie’s eyes.
“Auntie, when’s momma coming back?” he spoke, words popping out of his little dragonet mouth. Ruby looked up from the scroll, eyes falling emptily on the doorframe. She took her time answering.
“...She’ll be back as soon as she can, sweetie. She just… disagrees with some things your grandma wants to do. It’s… It’ll be fine.”
Cobalt nodded. That made sense. Mom always said to fight for what you believe in. He just wished that those you fought weren't family.
Ruby’s gaze never left the door.
Don’t get yourself killed, sister, but… I hope you succeed.
Mom came back very late that day, talons quivering like branches in a storm, face washed with tears. She opened her arms to him, smiling warmly despite the flowing water, gesturing for a hug.
“He- hello, sweetie, momma’s sorry she’s late. She was… busy.” Cobalt walked into his mothers embrace, letting himself be wrapped in her deep orange.
“It’s alright, momma,” he said, words muffled by her wings, “you have importan’ stuff to do.”
They stayed like that for a while, his mother never loosening her grip.
“Are you okay, momma?”
Something wet began falling onto his back.
“As long as you’re with me, my Blue.”
And he believed her.
Morning came. The sun shone. Mom held onto him still. She had decided to let him sleep with her. Which was nice. And it would have continued to be nice if it wasn’t for the knocking at the door. He sat up, but mom shushed him and told him to stay in bed, getting up to address the visitor instead. So he stayed, watching as his mother approached the door with shaky steps. Cobalt watched as she went to open the door, hesitating for a moment before plastering on a smile and pulling the handle. Behind the door was a large armoured dragon, though of course not bigger than mom. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but he saw his mom twitch at something, as if to attack. Eventually she nodded, coming back to him. She scooped him up in her warm, safe talons, chittering to him.
“There’s some dragons who want to see you, honey.” The words were blown out like a candle flame. Cobalt looked into his mother’s eyes. They were not right, red and teary and sad. Listening to her and doing good things would make her feel better, right? But when he agreed her eyes and her smile drooped lower. She set him down and nudged him towards the big dragon encouragingly, nodding at him. He walked over to the stranger, eyes covered by his helmet. He gave him a gruff grunt in acknowledgement before turning to his mom.
“I’ll see you later, Princess Tourmaline.”
Mother stared back.
“As will I, dog .”
There was a puff of smoke from the dragon’s nose before he roughly grabbed Cobalt’s arm and dragged him along the hall. It hurt, but he didn’t complain. He turned to give his mom one last wave as he walked along. Mom had been staring at the red carpet, but she had caught a glimpse of him, returning the gesture with forced, tired, weak enthusiasm.
“Focus, dragonet.” The dragon ordered, and so Cobalt filled diligently.
Be polite, be helpful, be considerate.
The dragon took him down several floors, deeper than he thought existed. He knew about the two underground floors for storage and the dungeons, but they were at least four levels beneath the surface at this point. Down here, it was dank and the air was thick with more than just water. The bricks were dark and covered with a layer of soot and dirt, sticky from the humidity. The large dragon stopped in front of a room with a barred door, almost cell-like in nature. Was he being imprisoned? What did he do wrong? But the big Dragon told him to step inside and he couldn’t disobey. So he did.
Inside was too bright, too bright. There were too many lamps hanging from the ceiling. They made the dark grey stone look almost white. Inside there were seven dragons, all taller, all older than him.
One of them was grandma.
She was ordering some of the other dragons around, usual stuff, but now she looked… mean, but excited? What was the word Osprey used… malicious. Was that it?
“... Grandma?” he squeaked out when he found his voice, taking a tentative step forward. Grandma turned to him with peregrine quickness, eyes lighting up when she saw him. It didn’t feel good.
“Ah, isn’t it my favorite grandson, Aqua!” She flourished, giving any dragon that stopped working to look at the display a wicked glare.
“My… My name’s Cobalt.” he replied. Grandma never got his name wrong before. But it turns out that it was the wrong thing to say as grandma turned her anger on him.
“Don’t correct me, whelp . Ugh, Co-balt ! What a horrible name. Tourmaline should have just listened and named you Aqua. Dragonet, from now on you only respond to Aqua, got it?” Her face moved right up into his. He nodded quickly. She drew back, examining her claws. “Good, good. You wouldn’t have liked what would’ve happened if you…” she turned to him, “ disobeyed .”
What…
What happened to grandma?
“Now,” the queen continued, now speaking to the gathered dragons, “let’s open up our present, shall we?”
They cut him open. He screamed and screamed and screamed, but no-one came and eventually no sound escaped. His wrists were bleeding; there was blood everywhere. He couldn’t escape, couldn’t move - they strapped him to the table. The lights were in his eyes, he couldn’t see, couldn’t think, there was only pain . There was blood everywhere. His arms glowed, they burned, they were poked, prodded, pierced. Hot, burning liquid and threads poured from his wrists and scraped his sides and clouded reality. It burned, it hurt, he breathed and breathed and breathed but the air wasn’t friendly and he couldn’t breathe enough. There was blood everywhere. The queen stood, always watching from the corner of his vision, smiling, ordering, not helping .
Why wasn’t she helping him?
There was blood everywhere.
It was not a good day.
Four days passed, Aqua lay gasping for air that would never satiate him on the floor of the lab, clutching himself and shaking. Everything hurt and he was hungry - so hungry - and he couldn’t breathe and-
The dragon who was once grandma stood over him, unfeeling. He looked up at her through the top of his eyes, shivering.
“Ah, yes, I forgot, bring in some food.” dragons he assumed were guards left. Aqua couldn’t breathe. The queen lowered her face to his, grinning. “He’s ready .”
He was allowed to live relatively normally after that, confined to the fourth floor underground. He wasn’t experimented on every day. He only had to do tests every week. He couldn’t see the sun ever, the food was never good, he always hurt, but blood wasn’t everywhere.
Usually.
They made Aqua spin fire from his wrists, make different types of threads. Sometimes they’d take a syringe and stab him halfway up his forearm, taking orange-tinted white liquid and storing it in jars.
He wanted mom back.
Why hasn’t she come?
He was coming back to the surface today.
He was going to see his mother . That was all he cared about. He’d forget everything, forgive everything, just for her. The journey up was rough. Stairs hurt his arms every step; it felt like his bones would snap, and the guards wouldn’t let him stop to rest. But the air got breathable and he got closer to mom, so it was okay.
It was okay.
They went through several paper dragons and they had to stop to talk a bunch, but he didn’t care. He could see sunlight, but he didn’t care.
Eventually, the dragon his mom called “dog” lead him to his room.
Mom
Mom opened the door looking gray, looking like a hollowed tree, but then she saw him and he saw her and it was alright. Mom cried. A lot. He cried too. They talked about many things, anything, and they hugged and talked all night.
All night.
And he could live life once more. That dragon would never be grandma, but he could be Cobalt again.
Finally.
Mother was gone in the morning.
Cobalt cried.
Present day
Cobalt exited the throne room. He held himself. He held himself. He held himself until he got his room, entering and shutting the door. He pressed himself against the closed door, breathing heavily, breathing anything. Just in and out, in and out, until her image went away.
He couldn’t keep living like this.
That Dragon wanted him to manipulate Spark. That Dragon wanted him to kill. That Dragon… It was all too much. He wasn’t going to lie to Spark. Spark was going to know the truth about what’s going to happen to her. She wouldn’t be tied down. She wouldn’t be starved. For moons sake, her blood was going to stay in her body.
Cobalt looked up. A picture frame lay on a table of him and his mother on his second hatching day. She had her wing around him, grinning widely. He was smiling. He had no scars.
No-one was going through that again.
Stars, why was it ‘again’?
There was a knock at Peril’s door and finally she had something to do. Planning with next to no information was worrying with extra steps, and she hated it. She opened it, expecting a maid or a guard, but standing in front of her was the blue, four-winged prince.
“Hell-”
“I need to talk to you.”
Peril flinched at, not so much his interruption, but his intensity. She inspected him, looking him up and down.
“Okay?” she replied, stepping aside, “Come in.” He did, simply standing in the middle of the room once he entered. They stared at each other in silence. She never gave him permission to use the lounge. “Oh, um, you can take a seat, if you want?” she hastily added, realizing her mistake. Bl- Cobalt’s cheeks reddened as he nodded thankfully, making himself comfortable on the fluffy piece of furniture. Peril joined him.
“So… Spark.” he started gently. She leaned in to listen. “I… don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the queen’s motivations aren’t exactly… in your interest.”
Spark snorted. “Yeah, I figured” Cobalt shot her a look, brow scrunched up.
“Then why are you acting so… agreeable towards her?”
Peril blinked. “I don’t want my friends to get hurt. Thought the best way was to work from the inside, y’know? Risky, but that's life.”
Cobalt looked at her. He looked into her. It seemed like he was trying to really understand her. It was… nice. Dragons usually were stuck with what assumptions they had of her. None really reassessed or stopped to understand. Blue was always like this, she had heard, but, wow, he really was a really considerate, kind dragon, wasn’t he? Across worlds, under Scarlet.
“That’s… incredible of you.” he spoke, interrupting her thoughts. Incredible? That was a new one. “Putting your life on the line for others, not even of your own tribe… I mean, I value all dragons, but most don’t. You’re a good dragon.” he sighed. “I’m sorry about… the queen…”
Oh. Oh wow .
“Um, thanks? Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”
He continued staring at the ground.
“Your first job is tomorrow. The queen wants you in the arena.”
Chapter 4: The Perilous Prophesy pt. 3
Summary:
Dangerously, the Sky Kingdom starts becoming familiar again.
Notes:
haha... I deeply apologize for such a long wait! School and other projects have gotten a bit in the way... I hope this was worth it. Hey, it's a bit longer than usual! Please enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cobalt pushed through the doors to the throne room. As he did, angry voices reached his ears before swiftly silencing. His antennae had picked up the vibrations during his brief conversation with the maid, but he had paid no mind (being useless, again). It had felt like the rattling of a vase during a strong storm. Before him was the queen of Skywings standing in the middle of the room, far from her usual perch on the throne, wings splayed out and smoke rising from her nostrils. He flinched at her expression, though it was not directed at him. It was targeted at a skywing guard of average build and tomato scales, pinned beneath Scarlet’s wrath, clutching his spear. His jaw was clamped closed, eyes quivering under the fire. The queen’s presence - the fury, the authority - far surpassed her actual size. At the sound of the door, the queen’s gaze shot to the entrance whilst the guard dropped his eyes to the floor, shivering and never loosening his grip on his weapon.
Cobalt froze.
Scarlet stared at him blankly, gears turning behind this rare peek behind the queen’s facade. Slowly, smoothly, she turned back to the petrified guard, a snarl returning, every word laced with blood.
“Sort. This. Out. You’re dismissed.” The guard gave a shaky nod before scrambling out the open hallway to the throne’s left. Scarlet watched him go, disdain in her eyes as she absentmindedly dusted herself off. “Idiots.” she muttered. The queen turned to address him and Cobalt quickly fixed himself - posture upright, steel your expression, wings in tight - as the fake, award-winning grin was fixed onto her face.
“Ah, Aqua, Aqua! Forgive me for such an… unbecoming display. Some dragons just can’t do their jobs right.” She gave a flourish of wings, her jewelry gleaming in the light. “The endless burden of a queen, as you know.” Her claws came together in a clasp joined by a wicked grin, Cobalt wincing from the sudden noise (hold yourself, hold yourself, don’t show weakness, not to her) “Now! To business.” Business. Cobalt had grown to hate that word when it came from her mouth. “The little firescales, Spark, her name was, yes?” He nodded. Two guards had entered through the east hall carrying a large wooden chest coated with the signature skywing fireproofing varnish that shone vaguely orange under the light. Scarlet motioned with a talon for the two dragons to come over. They set the chest down and unclasped the clips, lifting the lid for the queen. Scarlet raised a brow, a smug expression lining her eyes. She reached into the chest, also taking this moment to brandish her claws. What she drew out was a plate of armor that was simply gold at a glance but the surface was lined with a hexagonal pattern. Cobalt’s eyes widened and his heart stopped.
“Do you know what this is, Aquamarine?”
He nodded.
Sun armour. The armor of Morningstar from skywing legends. Unbreakable, fireproof, the perfect armour forged in the heart of Ilios - the dragon of the sun. Myth brought into reality through science. But it couldn’t actually- could it?
Queen Scarlet watched his face, smirking. Her teeth seemed too big for her face. She placed the plate onto the ground and, without looking, she extended a talon to a guard who gave her a mace. With all too much glee, she raised the weapon over her head and brought it down with a resonant clang. When she brought the mace up, Cobalt saw that a spike had broken off of the morning star. Scarlet kicked the plate over to him, a sparkle in her eyes.
“Pick it up.”
He picked it up. Running a talon over the metal he found no deformities; the plate still held a perfect curve. The surface was unscathed. It was undamaged.
“Not. A. Scratch.”
The guards had picked up the chest and walked over to him. Cobalt held the plate away from him like a rotten fruit and dropped it into the pile of metal just like it. The guards took the chest away. Scarlet turned with a flourish, walking back to her throne, steps slow, lavish, deliberate.
“A firescales in armor. Imagine that. Now you don’t have to imagine. I’ve given you your orders, but because of some… complications, per se, there’s been a little change of plans. She’s not going to trust me so easily anymore, not after that welcoming ceremony. So,” her steps paused and she looked back at him, “ you’re going to befriend the firescales.”
For Peril, it was as if the world was falling away. The walls were melting, the shadows stretched and deepened turning into pools of void, the candles spun and spun, sparks drawing lines through her vision. The room seemed to tip, swaying precariously to the side.
The queen wants you in the arena .
The arena.
Blue’s- Cobalt’s eyes softened, a tiredness seeping in. His gaze washed over her as his wings drooped. He extended a talon to her, almost unconsciously, it seemed, but he paused, eyes widening, talon instead retreating to cover his mouth, wings fluttering slightly.
“I- oh, moons , sorry- she just- it’s not to fight .” His whole body squirmed in discomfort as he saw the light leave Spark’s face, his own heating up. “Queen Scarlet wants you- wants you to-” He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he straightened his posture, holding his wings back and curling his antennae. When he spoke, his voice had a solid, larger quality to it. “The queen requests your presence in the arena at noon today for your briefing.” He shifted his talons, finding a more comfortable way to hold his weight. Dropping his voice to a trained, professional whisper, he leaned closer, breath on her neck. “She wants to introduce you to the kingdom as the skywing’s newest diplomat.” He paused, disapproval potent in the silence. “But it’s a front.” Peril gave a short, tense nod. Satisfied, Cobalt continued, “She wants to be your ‘benevolent savior’, the one who took you in in this dangerous world. All she wants is a firescales on a leash.” His voice grew bitter. “Her very own pet weapon.”
Cobalt drew back and Peril let go of the breath she was holding (she was holding her breath?) as the iridescent dragon looked her over. Peril shook her body, trying to rid herself of this sticky dread that had crawled up her scales.
“Yeah, that…” a long breath of air left her lungs, “that makes sense.” She put on a wry smile as turned her attention to the prince in the room. “You know, luck never did seem to be on my side.”
Cobalt tilted his head at her, antennae flexing absently. “You’re taking this rather well.”
Peril gave a laugh, pushing the icky feelings aside for now. “I’ve been doing nothing but worry and think for the last two days, I’m just glad to have some actual information,” she grinned, pointing at Blue with both talons playfully, “from a reliable source, to boot!” She paused as Cobalt’s posture seemed to soften. “Wait, how did you know all that stuff? Scarlet is theatrical, but she didn’t seem like the type to be that careless with her plans…” Unless something had changed…
His muscles tensed up again at the mention of the queen. He hesitated, flexing his claws and avoiding her gaze.
“... No. She didn’t tell me.”
That look. She knew that look.
Peril relaxed, letting the tension flow out of her muscles. She needed to have a clear mind for what was to come, but right now…
She stepped forward, wrapping Cobalt, somewhat hesitantly, in her wings.
“I… don’t know what happened, but… From now on, you can count on me. To listen, to just be here, anything… for as long as I’m with you.”
The misfit prince flinched at the contact, but eventually relaxed. He let out a long breath, closing his eyes and gingerly leaning into her contact.
For now, she could say those words nobody said to her when she needed them.
Peril glided down through the familiar monoliths, arranged in a circle around the arena and connected by a web of metal. She idly gazed over the dragons sitting on the top of the pillars, looking for deep black emerald scales. She didn’t find any. She didn’t manage to spot anyone else, either, though she couldn’t be completely sure as there were many a dragon from every tribe but the Mudwings, Nightwings or Rainwings (she might have to see what was of Kinkajou after they escaped this place).
Blue and purple scales danced and gleamed under the late morning sun, brighter than the scales of any other dragon she had seen before. Cobalt had kept her at arms length after their little moment, so she had given him space. He seemed… like his mind was a bit elsewhere. As if he was looking at his schedule and it was dealing with important but incredibly stuck-up nobles all day. The fate of many dragons’ lives are in your talons, but moons above , why?
Below them, in the center of the arena, stood four waiting dragons. Of course, one was Her Majesty Queen Scarlet . Peril gave an eye roll that she was pretty sure they couldn’t see from way down there. To Scarlet’s right were the princes, Vermilion and Hawk. Whether they were the sole sons of Scarlet at the moment was unclear. By the time the Dragonets showed up in her timeline, Scarlet had already killed off her other two sons. But then again, Blue was here, so did that really mean anything?
Ruby was there, seated to Scarlet’s left. Peril found this surprising considering that, in her experience, Ruby had tended to distance herself from her mother, instead organizing more of the menial tasks around the palace whilst Scarlet was busy in the war room or the arena. But she was here. This would be her first real interaction with Ruby in this world, so she better make a good impression. The princess held a concealed tiredness, her eyes slightly dimmed though her mouth held a gentle smile. There was a fifth dragon, too. Beside Ruby, old and faded with a bad posture and a stiff tail. Peril sucked in a breath. Osprey .
She and Cobalt touched down, Cobalt floating down with no recoil and Peril… Well, she never did get lessons, but at least she could land without hurting herself!
Princess Ruby raised a brow at her heavy landing, more in amusement than in judgement if the twitch at the corners of her mouth had anything to say. At least, Peril hoped. Meanwhile Osprey gave an old dragon “ah, the youth” type of chuckle that spilled warmth into her chest. Scarlet grinned her sharp shark-like grin as they landed, watching her with intent.
“Spark! Aqua! A bit late, but I can make an exception this once, as you’re so new to the palace.”
She knew the palace quite well, thank you very much. Just not the library. Or the kitchen. Or the treasury. But all of those were for very good reasons! She knew her way around the places that mattered, okay? Cobalt gave a practiced, smooth bow, theoretically perfect.
“My Queen.” He gave a nod to the other dragons present as he acknowledged them. “Princess Ruby. Prince Hawk. Prince Vermillion. Osprey of the Court.”
Each gave an acknowledgement in kind, the two princes gave curt nods whilst Ruby offered a smile. Osprey gave him a verbal greeting, humour in his old eyes. A light in his eyes that had long gone by this point in Peril’s life. She stood, a lion in the ocean with all these dragons.
“Yes, yes,” Scarlet waved Cobalt off, turning the focus back onto her.
“Um, greetings,” Peril fumbled in an attempt at abiding by etiquette, “your Majesty and Highnesses. And, uh, Osprey.”
Smooth.
How did she know so little about how to act when this had been her whole life? Scarlet narrowed her eyes at her interruption, her spinal scales flexing in annoyance. Oh. Maybe it’s because I never was a dragon to Scarlet.
Osprey laughed. Full and genuine but shallow of breath and wheezy. Hawk gave a grin, tail flicking as whilst his brother wore a wary smile, eyes flicking to their mother. A little mirth returned to Ruby’s eyes at her attempt at being respectful, a chuckle actually escaping her lips. She gave her a light bow, even going as much as to draw her arm across her chest.
“Well, hello little one. I am Princess Ruby, the aunt of Cobalt here. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Peril blinked, shuffling on her talons.
“O-oh! Hi- uh, well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, too, miss- uh- Princess Ruby. I’m Spark! Hehe…”
Wow. She was awesome at this. Ruby’s smile grew a margin and Hawk gave Vermillion a nudge and an ‘are you seeing this?’ look, a dopey smile Peril hadn’t expected from the judgmental prince unsubtly displayed on his face. Osprey’s laughter had died down, though he was still grinning.
“ Anyways ,” Scarlet interjected with a low growl, though not in her usual threatening way, “as I was saying, I’d like you all to meet Spark.” The gold chains that laced her claws clinked as she moved. “She will be filling the role of Royal Herald, a role that has been vacant for some time.” Hawk tilted his head but gave no comment. There was a blur of red and gold as the queen turned to face the adult dragons present, showing off all of her jewelry and polished scales. “However, she can not assume the position immediately. She is untrained.” She pinned her daughter with a shining smile and dead serious eyes. “As the dragon most familiar with diplomacy and social matters here, you will be responsible for equipping Spark with all the tools that she may need.” Ruby gave a nod. Turning to the princes, Scarlet inspected her claws as she spoke. “As Herald, Spark will often need to traverse through dangerous areas such as battlefields. Hawk,” she flicked her gaze up at him with a narrowed gaze that carried the cold winds of the mountains, “as Marshal, you are to ensure that the guard and the soldiers are familiar with Spark and that she will be accompanied by the appropriate dragons.” The aforementioned dragon straightened his posture and nodded.
“Understood, your Majesty."
Scarlet grinned.
“Fabulous.” Her expression grew bored. “Osprey…” she dragged out the name as one would with a problematic dragonet. “Educate her with our history.” Her attention was on Cobalt before Osprey could respond. “Ah!” she clasped her claws together, “My grandson. As you are of similar age to Spark here, make her feel comfortable, show her around the palace, would you?” He nodded as Scarlet’s face lit up. Peril was suddenly under the intense light of the queen’s attention, stepping back in surprise. “That reminds me! Spark, your friends have been completely cleared. They will be staying in guarded rooms on the other side of the palace, for security. They cannot stay in the palace forever; they will be released in a week. If they are found again in skywing territory, we will have to apprehend them. I can’t be making exceptions, after all. Unfortunately, Kestrel will still be held in a cell, awaiting trial.” Her tone remained light and conversational as she spoke. “She did commit treason, after all. Sorry, dear.” She was not, a fact that Scarlet lazily tried to hide. “Your friends will still have the seawing adult, so they should be fine!” More things were said, but Peril didn’t hear them, a cloud of smokey thoughts shrouding her surroundings.
My winglet… they’re okay. That’s nice to know. But…
Words and doubt came firing through the smoke, assaulting her mind. Worries about her mother. About the prophecy. About her newly appointed role. About what Scarlet might be planning. About-
There was a brush of scales that came over her wing. Her head shot up, trying to find the fire or the injury, but-
Soft azure eyes peered down at her, illuminated under the sunlight. Whorls of blue and purple resting against her, unblackened, unblemished. Of course, he was a fireproof dragon. But her frozen muscles did not release, held still under his gaze.
“Hey.” A voice of hot chocolate, smooth and warm. Gentle. “Are you okay?”
His antennae flexed and moved, anxious, and his attention was completely hers. Peril’s perception trailed off, peering to the other dragons. Scarlet was gone (she must’ve left some time ago) but Ruby inspected her with a mother’s eyes, Hawk with those of a commander - not unfeeling but wholly objective. After a moment or two, her heart caught up - everything was fine, no-one was burnt, it was okay, okay. She turned back to the misfit prince, more shakily than she’d like to admit, and scribbled on the best smile she could.
“I’m… I’m good, yeah?”
He hummed - a low, quiet sound - as his antennae flattened against his thin horns. His wing that had brushed hers set itself back into its place as he opened his mouth. And then- she strained her ears for the words to come, but none came as his mouth was shut again. He nodded.
“Okay.”
That was not what he wanted to say.
“Do you have any health problems, dragonet?” Hawk said, low and humourless. “We cannot go into the field una-”
“It’s nothing, I swear! Just…” Peril sighed, “It was a bit overwhelming, I guess. I’m normally better. I’m… this won’t happen again.”
Hawk was about to say something but was halted by the arm of Ruby. The princess kneeled down to her level - another reminder that Peril was in a younger body - and offered a soft smile.
“That’s okay.” Her voice sounded like milk and honey, she idly noted. “Just tell us if you need anything.”
Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath.
“Yeah.”
Peril was staring hard at some papers. Hard enough to set them ablaze in concentration, she thought. It was still strange to her that they weren’t on fire right now, though. Cobalt’s doing, apparently - flamesilk made into paper. Written down on the pages were rows of neat words, where one letter flowed perfectly into the next with little flourish; the perfect mix of beauty and legibility. What else should one expect from the perfect princess, Ruby? Scattered open on the desk sat an assortment of other similar scrolls, thin when rolled to be portable rather than combined into a single bulky scroll, each giving Peril useful information, scheduling and even a map of the palace (they just handed those out? Wouldn’t that be a security hazard?). The particular scroll she was pouring herself over was the schedule for an event taking place in the colosseum. It was a public announcement type of deal, covering the outcomes of battles and other war details as well as reminding dragons of upcoming events. Vermillion was to talk about the economy… There would be acknowledgements of minor achievements and events (... Huh, Scarlet cared to announce a marriage between two random palace workers? … Okay), and then, written with little fanfare…
12:30pm - Announcement of new Royal Herald - Spark to give speech.
… That.
Peril groaned, falling backwards onto the ground with a thump. She turned her head to look out the window, curtains fluttering playfully in the mountain breeze backdropped by the blue, cloudless sky behind. A speech. She would have to talk. In front of… every important dragon in the capital. No big deal. It’s not like she didn’t fumble her way through every normal conversation. Yeah.
Can’t I, like… convince Scarlet to not make me do this? Vermillion can probably announce it himself just fine. … Bet she’ll be like “No, no! Our dragons have to know who you are! What you’re like!” and some other nonsense.
Peril sighed, dragging her claws over her face. This was ridiculous. Preposterous. All of the adjectives. Whatever.
Just then, a knock came tapping at her door to break her from her misery. Reluctantly, she got up and walked over to the door, quietly reminding herself that this wasn’t like the time where Scarlet had given her that necklace; only the scrolls and furniture were fireproof, not the dragons (except Blue/Cobalt, but he didn’t count). Behind the door stood several dragons in the traditional skywing maid garb - horn covers, wing drapes, those sort of things - carrying a woven box of things.
“Ah- hello.” A maid said with scales of wine and a light grey hon colour. “Is this Ms. Spark’s room?”
Peril blinked for a moment, quickly catching herself.
“Oh- um, yes. That’s me. What do you need?”
The maid leaned over to look behind her into the room. “We… were told to deliver some things from storage to this room,” She looked back up at her, “are… Are you a firescales?”
“... Yes. I am.” It was weird to answer that question. Usually dragons just knew. The maid gave a huff, flapping her wings once in annoyance.
“They should’ve told us… would’ve brought a fireproof basket…” she grumbled as the other three maids waited uncomfortably. “Whatever… Girls?” Peril moved to the side as the four dragons did their job. They set the basket down right in front of the lounge and began unpacking. Many things were taken and distributed throughout the room: they replaced the curtain, they placed a candle lamp on the table, sleek and made of bronze, they stocked the scrollcase with various different scrolls. Peril caught some of the scroll's titles and some were copies of the texts she had on stone tablets.
“Um, miss?” came a meek voice. Peril glanced over to find the owner a soft rusty colour whose posture made her appear smaller than she was. She had this precious air about her - like she was fragile in the way a bunny or sheep was. “Where do you want this?” Propped up with her talons was the corner of a sleek, metal rectangle lined with gold on the edges and embellished with gothic ornamentations.
A griddle.
“Is- is that a griddle?”
The maid shrunk into herself, fidgeting with her claws. The dragon who was seemingly the leader answered instead.
“Yes. It was on the list, though it did have a note saying that it was a replacement…”
They replaced her griddle. What.
Spark gave a stiff nod.
“Okay. Uh. Put it by the window. Please.”
The dragons began moving the large object to the desired location and- Ohmygosh was it had beautiful firebox that doubled as a stand-
Cobalt was sitting on the balcony of his room, looking out onto the mountainous horizon. His chest felt empty and his back burdened (what sort of prince was he, buckling under responsibility?). He was tired. He was so tired. He had a job to do, he had to make sure Spark wouldn’t be stuck under the claws of Queen Scarlet, but he couldn’t let the queen find out. An obvious observation. A straightforward goal. Incredibly difficult in execution. He rubbed the scars on his forelegs absently.
… At least the queen was predisposed to expecting obedience from him, especially after…
So here he was. On the balcony. Thinking (as if he was good at it, let alone anything else). If he wanted to protect Spark, then he’d…
He shook his head, shaking away the dizziness that crept in with his worry. Which was swiftly followed by a click and a creak of an opening door. He whipped his head around (no knock?!) to find the intruder clad in copper scales and glowing softly, the endless warmth of a hearth in her burning eyes.
Well. Speak of the Sun.
“Hey Cobalt!” Chirped Spark as she pranced over to where he was. “Ooh, nice balcony. I like the marble and gold.” He squirmed.
“Oh. Thanks.” He said, averting his eyes. Her expression washed away, wincing. Did she think he-
“Ah. Sorry. I’m kinda… Bad? At talking to dragons.” She ran a claw over the scales that ran down the middle of her neck (she has very active body language). She perked up again, directing her light at him again. “Anyways, uh, can I ask for your help?”
He paused. He really shouldn’t say yes.
“What do you need?” But here he was, failing again. The firescales chuckled, an act that was followed by soft white steam trailing from her nose, very unlike the black smoke most fire-breathing dragons had.
“Oh, well…” she looked away, the spaces between her scales pulsing with that orange light. The part of his body that was close to her warmed up more than it already had. “You know that announcement thing later this week?” He nodded. “Well, Scarlet wants to introduce the new herald-slash-diplomat to the kingdom…” Part of him was scandalised at the lack of honorifics. The other part was much more focused on Spark (he thinks he knows what this is about now). “And, uh, she wants a speech? From me.” She gave a laugh, wobbly from her embarrassment, and gestured up and down at her body with her talons, tail twitching furiously. “You see all this? Not exactly made for public speaking…”
Without conscious input, his tail flicked over to rest against hers, stilling its movement. She froze unbeknownst to him.
“So you want my help writing the speech.” Spark gave a little jump at the sound of his voice.
“Um- yeah!” She smiled. Her authenticity to her own emotions was mesmerising. Cobalt let out a breath, shaking his head and allowing himself this moment to smile.
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Her eyes lit up in a way that made most of the possible consequences worth it.
“Really?” She squeaked. “You’re the best, Blue!”
His brain stopped and so did his muscles. Spark covered her mouth quickly. … Blue? The last dragon who called him by that nickname…
“Oh- I’m sorry! Did I say something wr-”
“... You can call me that, if you like.” He never thought he’d be called that again (please do). The increased warmth seemed more comfortable. The dragon across him tilted her head and looked at him with eyes that saw deeper than just the prince. What was going on in that mind?
“Really?” she asked, a whisper. He was given the chance to step away from his blunder. He could say no.
He nodded.
“Oh…” She reset her wings against her back and her smile, though physically unchanged, exuded a more soft joy. “Okay. In that case… call me Peril.” He was taken aback - the atmosphere shifted.
“Wh- I’m not going to do that!” Spark just giggled.
“Please, I insist. Trust me.” She bent her neck to the side. “I won’t take it like… that . It means something to me. Besides,” she flicked a talon, “It’s not like a dragon named swordfish is expected to be the fastest swimmer! ‘Peril’ doesn’t have to mean danger. I’ve made it my own, I’ve made it mean ‘me’ - everything I am - over time, and… I think I want to share that with you. So, Blue.” She gave him a cheeky lopsided grin. “Call me Peril.”
He looked into her eyes, perfectly honest and true. He couldn't deny that.
“Okay… Peril.” The last thing he thought she’d do - she burst into laughter, full-hearted and pure.
“Oh- oh wow! I-” her laughter slowed as she wiped away the steam coalescing around her eyes. “I never thought I’d hear someone call me that again. I’m glad I was wrong.”
Once again, she seems to unknowingly read him.
“Well, thanks, Blue! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And she was gone. Cobalt sighed, the smile she left on him turning melancholy in the absence of her warmth. Someone like that shouldn’t be here. Not near Scarlet. And if Scarlet wants him to befriend Spark, then…
He can’t. For her safety.
Notes:
Thanks for reading! If you can, please leave a review. Reviews are always appreciated - tell me what you thought, what you liked, what you didn't - it all helps me improve!
Aligma_Sundance on Chapter 1 Fri 11 Oct 2024 05:28AM UTC
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Last Edited Fri 08 Aug 2025 03:48AM UTC
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