Chapter Text
POV: Emperor
Dragons crowded the streets of Possibility in preparation for the festival coming that night, a ritual that Emperor was convinced happened daily. The border town’s residents didn’t seem to care. The throng of wings and talons shifted around him like the waves in a storm at sea as he slunk between the stalls with equal parts of practiced grace and clumsy awkwardness. He passed beggars and merchants alike who tried to plead their way into making him surrender some of his coin, but 8 years of living by himself in this city taught him better than to listen to them. He was much too busy tonight to drop some money on a couple of dragons who were down on their luck and looking to drink the night away.
The nearby stalls smelled of exotic meats and aromatic flowers, but they weren’t the kind of luxuries he was looking for tonight. He had little time even for a merry band of musicians that tugged at his attention from an adjacent stage, but he slowed for a moment to listen to the Seawing musician sing his heart out on a love song clearly meant for the other musician, a Sandwing who was simultaneously playing the drums with her tail and some woodwind instrument with her talons and mouth. It was beautiful moments like these in such a wild and unforgiving place that made the ugly moments hurt just that little bit more. Emperor was no stranger to such painful acts and neither was the largely-ramshackle city. He was a Seawing-Icewing hybrid of unusual size, he felt hurtful looks get thrown his way every time he took a step. It was evenings like this that he indulged in a little retribution.
He did his best to cling as close to the ground as he could when festival watchmen glanced his way, but he wasn’t sure a small-time thief like himself would even be anywhere on their priorities list when he’d find wanted posters of assassins and drug lords pinned to message boards all over town. Some of the artistic renderings of those dragons still stuck with him; scars, threatening expressions, masks… all of the above. He was not keen on being featured on any posters. His features were much too uniquely recognizable, any sketch of him that went up would mean his immediate incarceration; any mention of his golden horns to authorities would be the end for him. Suffice to say, Emperor was a careful dragon.
He tugged the hood of a tattered cloak over his head and his ridiculous golden horns and got to work. His mark tonight was a young, light-blue Seawing whose normally luminescent scales were missing their characteristic glow. Emperor thought he looked much too happy for a dragon whose carvings went almost entirely unsold throughout the day, so he figured he’d be as good a target as any other. Besides, he thought the dragon was giving odd looks to the hybrids on the streets earlier, so the hybrid thief called it justified. The only problem was that he didn’t really know what to steal. His activities were more about personal justice against Seawings than making ends meet, so he usually looked for whatever was most precious to whoever he was robbing. Hmm… he pondered carefully. His wares seem too easily replaced; I’d have to steal all of them to make any kind of difference here.
The Seawing happily twirled around as he prepared to clean up his shop for the night, a small spring in his step as he bounced in time to the music. Emperor frowned slightly. This dragon seemed about the same age as himself and still had some bright-eyed innocence evident in his features, could he really rob him of that happiness and live with himself afterward? Emperor shook it off and cracked his neck to focus. Honestly, I’m probably doing him a service, he rationalized. Naivete in a town like Possibility is going to get him hurt; he needs a wake-up call. He’s lucky I’m the one who he’s getting it from, other dragons wouldn’t be so merciful. He watched as the light of a nearby torch glinted off the Seawing’s chest, illuminating a small fishhook necklace that flopped about to-and-fro. Emperor’s enhanced Icewing vision could tell that the fishhook was an older, cruder carving than the kind that was on display and the way the owner handled it like it was precious told him everything he needed to know. Bingo.
Why am I still doing this? He asked himself while he waited patiently for an opening. This Seawing probably didn’t do anything to me. Guilt thudded in Emperor’s chest, but he willed it away. He found it such an odd notion that he could even bring himself to do these things. He was normally timid, shy, and woefully depressed enough that he couldn’t even talk to other dragons, much less rob them. It felt like he only had two emotions nowadays: righteous fury and sadness. He knew it to be selfish, but if he just indulged his anger, he’d ward off the sadness. So he did, by robbing defenseless Seawings like this one who had only recently been dragged into adulthood (kicking and screaming in Emperor’s case).
Finally, Emperor watched as his mark slowly and irreverently removed his necklace and set it down on the counter. The thief took his time; every time the Seawing looked away or busied himself with something, Emperor inched closer. It was unnaturally difficult for him to be stealthy with his size comparable to some of the oldest dragons he’d seen, but he had experience. Despite the feat, he wasn’t the least bit proud of himself for what he used it for. He wrapped his cloak more tightly to cover some of his more prominent Seawing traits that would get him spotted in the growing dark, namely a line of glowing, blue scales that ran down his back and sides. Just a little bit further…
Once the Seawing bent down for a moment, Emperor seized his chance. In one smooth motion that even an outside observer would hardly find suspicious, he snatched the necklace from the counter and deposited it in his satchel. Before his target could even stand back up to realize the theft, Emperor was firmly assimilated into the sea of partying dragons parading down the street. However, his conscience held him back from completely fleeing the scene. He took up residence in an empty lot just a few spaces down and across from the Seawing’s stall and watched the fallout of his actions.
As guilt slowly began to overrun the twisted sense of pride from his accomplishment, Emperor began desperately hoping that the necklace he stole wouldn’t be that important. He’d never watched his target for this long before and now he could feel that he was getting just a little attached to the Seawing. He watched with bated breath as a light-blue head popped back up from behind the counter and scanned the area for his necklace. First, he was confused, scratching his head and clearly trying to remember figure out where he put it. Then, he started to get frustrated. And finally…
Uh oh, Emperor thought as guilt started to overwhelm him. I fucked up. The Seawing started bawling his eyes out, pitchy cries of anguish forcing their way out of his mouth as he vainly continued looking for the fishhook. He turned over boxes and bags with reckless abandon and practically trashed his stall in the process. It was… pathetic, and Emperor started to feel the same. He had never made a dragon cry before, much less this. It hit him right in the gut in a way that reminded him of some painful memories of his own involving his parents. As if on cue, a larger Seawing emerged from a tent behind the stall with the most furious scowl he’d ever seen. She wrapped the smaller Seawing in her arms and wings as she stroked his back with a comforting touch, but her eyes were searching. Searching for him.
Get out, now, Emperor’s instincts screamed. You have to escape, NOW! His body wasn’t a fan of moving at the moment, all it seemed to want to do was break down into tears just like his target did. He could hear the poor dragon hysterically explaining that somebody stole his necklace with tears streaming down his face. However, when the dragon who he assumed to be the Seawing’s mother’s expression shifted, the rage was gone. All that remained was a cold and calculating stare that promised punishment to whoever hurt her son. Emperor’s logic finally got a grip of his motor functions and he fled, taking off into the sky with massive strokes of his wings that buffeted the nearby stalls with enough wind to rattle their woodwork. The noise caught the attention of the mother and her gaze snapped onto him, but she didn’t move. Once Emperor had high-tailed it far enough into the sky that he felt secure, he chanced a look back and saw her watching him from below with a death-stare; a stare that said, You’re going to pay for that.
Emperor wasn’t completely sure where he was going at this point. That one instance of robbery in the dozens he had done before had shattered his resolve in a way he hadn’t seen coming. He’d never been confident in his choice to steal from Seawings per se, but any will he had left was taken from him just like the necklace had been: swiftly and without mercy. He considered the crippling agony of his guilt fair karmic justice for what he had done, but it did little to soothe the pain or clear the rivulets of tears smeared across his face by the rushing wind.
Even Emperor himself couldn’t seem to nail down exactly why he was reacting this way. It wasn’t outlandish to think he’d sympathetically cry with a victim of his anger, but this? Spiraling blindly through clouds with reckless abandon because he can’t even bear to think he’s worthy of letting himself touch the ground that good dragons tread on? This was a new low and it terrified him to his core. New, awful feelings in a place he’d never been before; he had no idea what came next.
He pumped his exhausted wings harder as if he could escape into space if he tried hard enough, his satchel slapping irritatingly against his side as the wind buffeted it without mercy. Each time it hit him, he was reminded of the contents of the bag: stolen trinkets from the Seawings of Possibility, an unfinished letter to his parents that he’d crumpled up, and heaviest of all, the tiny fishhook necklace. The carved hook was hardly the size of one of his claws, but it felt to Emperor like it weighed at least a quarter of his body weight. It dragged him down like no other item or feeling in his entire life. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to part ways with it for a reason he couldn’t quite decipher. Any time he reached for his satchel, a sensation of overwhelming nausea pervaded his senses and nearly took him out of the sky.
After what felt like days of non-stop flying and misery, Emperor’s tired eyes spotted the twin peaks of Jade Mountain on the horizon. Maybe it’s empty and I can sleep in one of the caves, he thought. Nobody to hurt in a place like this, right? It took him longer to realize he was dead wrong than he cared to admit, and much too long to avoid detection from the current residents of the mountain. Emperor peered down at the cave entrance as best he could from up in the clouds and spotted a slightly tattered banner that read “Welcome students!” in brightly colored paint. It’s a school now? He observed grumpily. I learned my damn lesson already, universe. Give me a break.
He was slow to whirl around and begin to fly away. Too slow. His ears perked up as he heard the thunder of dual wingbeats rapidly approaching from below. In a panic, he flung himself into a nearby cloud and did his best to hover without disturbing the cohesive fluffiness of his cover. The voices accompanying the wingbeats sounded vaguely familiar, but Emperor just attributed it to being tired. He peeked out as stealthily as he could (which was to say, not at all) and spotted his pursuers tracking him from only a couple hundred feet below. One was a slightly pudgy, green, male-looking dragon and the other was a more muscular, blue, female-looking one. Seawings, he observed with a spike of fear.
The adrenaline from his initial panic was wearing off and he’d be in a dangerous spot if he didn’t land soon, so he took a risk and divebombed the airspace directly between them. I’ll lose them in the caves or something, he thought. I don’t have another option. He met the surprised eyes of the green one for a split second as he shot by, and a flicker of recognition passed between them. Wait… Turtle? Emperor flared his wings as he approached the rocky outcropping of the school’s entrance, slowing his descent just enough to land with a thump and whip around defensively.
The two Seawings followed suit and landed several tail-lengths away with clear apprehension. Emperor narrowed his eyes at the pair, recognizing them as Prince Turtle and Princess Tsunami of the Seawings; his cousins. He sighed internally as a memory clicked into place. Right, I heard about Jade Mountain Academy in Possibility when some of them had shown up some months ago. Turtle is part of the Jade winglet or whatever it was called and Tsunami is a teacher. It figures they’d be here. He’d never personally met Tsunami before, but the pearls strewn across her neck were all he’d needed to see to make the connection in his head. Turtle, on the other talon…
“Emperor…?” Turtle asked incredulously. His face was pale like he’d seen a ghost and his wings jittered nervously. He tripped over his own feet as he plodded forward, his gaze refusing to leave Emperor’s. “Y-you’re… you’re alive.” Emperor’s expression softened at the relief in Turtle’s voice. Maybe they’re not about to kill me…? He glanced at Tsunami’s suspicious scowl and hesitated. Seems the jury’s still out with her.
The blue-and-gold hybrid towered over them both by several times their height, but his exhaustion weakened his posture enough that he knew he couldn’t seem very threatening at the moment even of he wanted to. “Yes,” Emperor replied with a low, raspy-from-crying-his-eyes-out grumble. “I a- alive.” Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t prevent his chronic stutter from making an appearance; a fact he loathed to admit was something Turtle would probably remember fondly. As if on cue, the green Seawing smiled and beckoned for Tsunami to join him.
“Tsunami, this is our cousin, Emperor. I knew him when I was much younger, but…” His expression turned somber, his eyes downcast. “…but he disappeared around five years ago when he ran away.”
Emperor snorted. “S- seven years ago. And I didn’t d- disappear, I escaped. There’s a difference.” He winced at the pained edge in his own voice and felt just a bit guilty as he imagined the conversation from their side. He sighed and lowered his voice apologetically. “S- sorry, that was rude. I didn’t mean to barge in on your school or whatever, I was just passing through.” Turtle looked like he was about to cry, something Emperor found ironic given recent events.
“No, no, don’t leave yet!” He pleaded as he closed the distance between them with purposeful strides. “I really want to talk to you and to introduce you to my sister, Tsunami.” She stepped closer and smiled warmly, clearly much more relaxed now that she knew Emperor wasn’t some kind of dragon terrorist. She extended a talon out to greet him and he acquiesced (albeit hesitantly since her entire talon was the size of his palm).
“It’s nice to meet you, Emperor. I didn’t know Turtle had any friends before JMA.” She giggled as her brother elbowed her and rolled his eyes. “I’m-“
“Tsunami, the lost p- princess of the Seawings…” Emperor finished for her with exaggerated grandiosity. “…cofounder of Jade Mountain Academy, D- Dragonet of Destiny, Hero of the War of Sandwing Succession… I’m familiar with your exploits.” Despite his attempt to throw her off, she seemed impressed. Emperor couldn’t tell if her lack of a reaction was stoicism or egocentrism.
“Hear that, Turtle? I’m famous!” She draped a wing over Turtle and continued with a wink. “I hope #1 Cousin can fit on that list of titles, eh?” Emperor stifled a laugh at her response despite himself. Definitely egocentrism, he thought jokingly. Turtle rolled his eyes again and made a face at her before continuing.
“Enough about her history, I want to hear about you,” Turtle implored. Emperor felt oddly flattered by his cousin’s interest, but the implication of the request worried him. What am I supposed to say? He asked himself. That I’ve been stealing from hardworking Seawings for years because of my past? Three moons, that’s pathetic. He supposed that what would come next could’ve been avoided with a little effort, but his energy and patience had been worn paper-thin by the flight. He felt his state of depression fade and an old but hot fury rise in its place. “I lost track of you after the Talons of Power ceremony. Mother doesn’t really like letting her animus dragons fraternize with the rest of the royal dragons as I’m sure you know. I was normal as far as she knew since I enchanted Anemone to become an animus-“
Emperor’s anger wavered momentarily under the weight of the revelation that Turtle just dropped on his head. His mouth hung open for a second before his disbelief was finally put into words, “Wait, you did what?!” Turtle flinched, instant regret on his face. Even Tsunami looked uncomfortable. “B-but… you know how- what happens to- You did that to your own sister?” Emperor knew deep down that this was an old problem that was probably already resolved, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it go. “After what I went through, that’s how you decided to use your magic?”
Emperor remembered that day vividly, the day he found out he had animus magic. He’d never felt so… right. Limitless power at his command to use how he saw fit; finally, something truly special about him that wasn’t some quirky part of his physiology that the other dragonets could point and laugh at. Special. The joy lasted only minutes as the first spell he cast showed him what he really meant to his kingdom and the dragons in it: a weapon; a tool.
He’d touched his golden fish earring and whispered to himself, “I enchant this earring to allow whoever wears it to read the intentions of a Seawing dragon.” He knew it wasn’t a particularly interesting one nor was it as strong as it could be, but he had only one purpose in mind for it (and he really didn’t want to enchant it to read every dragon’s mind, that sounded like a pain). He had to know, who around him was genuine? Who could he trust? The earring revealed the truth; he could trust next to nobody. The droves of friends he made in the coming days were all after his power, some of them even on order from their parents. Not even a week later, he was gone from the Sea Kingdom without a trace. He was on his own at the ripe old age of three with nobody to trust but himself.
Emperor hadn’t let go of his anger since then, his paranoia having planted a deep-seated anger toward half of his own ancestry for how they’d wronged him. His breaths were getting heavy under the weight of his memories and judging by Turtle’s jittery stance, Emperor wasn’t hiding his irritation very well. Tsunami stepped between them with a tired look. “Calm it down, you two. It’s been hardly two minutes and you’re already about to bite each others’ heads off. So… don’t.” Her friendliness had also disappeared, replaced with authority and regal countenance.
Emperor ignored her. “I- it’s just… it’s not fair!” His yell was pained and his voice broke, but he couldn’t stop himself. He knew he was lashing out, he knew they didn’t deserve his anger, and he knew that he was going to regret this later. Still, he continued. “You stayed in the Sea Kingdom, had all these friends and brothers, had animus magic… and what did you do with it? You ruined your sister’s life!” Emperor was starting to panic internally. It was like some other version of himself had taken the reins and was hell-bent on screwing him over. He wasn’t even sure where he was going with this train of thought, only that he couldn’t stop it. Just as Turtle and Tsunami looked as they were about to fire back, his voice dropped to a pathetic, stuttering whimper. “…and you n- never even looked for me.” Oh, he cringed internally. THAT’S where I was going with it.
Tsunami and especially Turtle looked equally stunned by the emotional display, eyes widening and tails flicking with what seemed like nervous guilt. Turtle reacted first, speaking softly and averting his eyes. “Emperor, I… I don’t know what to say.” He paused and glanced up into his distraught cousin’s dark blue gaze. “You’re right, I guess I’d just… given up. Everyone thought you were dead, so I… Oh gods, I guess I forgot.” Emperor appreciated the honesty, but talons and tails did it ever hurt that much more. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” Emperor interjected with a weary sigh. Now that his anger had abandoned him, all he had left to accompany him was remorse and exhaustion. “I’m s- sorry, Turtle. You d- don’t deserve a ghost of your past showing up and berating you for things you’ve a- already accepted and atoned for. I… this is my fault. I’ll… I’ll get going. It was nice to see you again, and to meet you, Tsunami.” It was clear neither Seawing appreciated what he said as they both stared him down with hard looks.
Tsunami scoffed and waved her talon. “Look, Emperor. I may have just met you, but I’m not going to let you sabotage yourself for one more second by running away.” Her posture and voice softened as she took a tentative step forward. “Stay awhile, won’t you? We’ve been looking for hybrids to fill out a new winglet we’ve proposed and I think you’d be a great fit.” Emperor was astonished, to say the least. His punishment for showing up out of the blue and yelling at two dragons was… a place to stay?
He wrung his talons nervously. A small glimmer of hope was finally showing itself after years of digging himself a deeper and deeper hole. He wanted so badly to say yes and live happily ever after with his new hybrid friends and his long-lost family — it had been years since he had a dragon to talk to other than himself — but he couldn’t let himself imagine it. Hope would only make the inevitable failure hurt more and he wasn’t sure he could take another one. “I…” he started, his voice choking up. “I can’t. You don’t want me here, I’ll only end up c- causing trouble. The other dragons you p- pick will be upstanding citizens with a thirst for knowledge and understanding or whatever and I’m-“ He sighed and pressed a talon to his face as he nearly said the word criminal out loud. “I’m a delinquent.” To his surprise, Turtle laughed.
“It’s okay, that’s exactly why you’d be a great fit. The other hybrids in your winglet will be outcasts, dragons who have been misplaced or causing trouble. That was the point of the… uh…” He raised an eye ridge at Tsunami meaningfully.
“The Bismuth Winglet is what we’re calling it,” She finished for him. “Sunny’s idea, of course. She wanted to put a bunch of troublemaker hybrids together and hope they can figure out how to understand each other since they’ve conquered adversity or something along those lines.” She cocked her head and smiled. “Don’t worry, Emperor. You’ll be in good company.” Emperor wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. If she thought that was supposed to make the idea sound better, then she’s dead wrong, he thought to himself awkwardly. Now I’m worried I’ll get shanked in the middle of the night or have my bed filled with dragonbite vipers. He shuddered at the thought.
“Please?” Turtle begged with his best attempt at puppy eyes. “Just give it a try, Emperor. It doesn’t seem like you’ve got anywhere else to go anyways, so why not stay and get some food and rest?” The plan was starting to make an irritating amount of sense to Emperor. He wasn’t sure he even had the energy to fly away right now if he wanted to, much less anywhere significantly far from here. He’d also been ignoring the rumbling of his stomach for hours, so at least staying long enough to mooch some food off the Academy seemed like a solid plan.
Emperor averted his gaze and crossed his arms. “F- fine, but don’t be surprised if I abruptly leave without saying goodbye.” He knew it was petulant and childish, but it appeared affirmative enough for them. They stepped forward and tugged him along, leading him inside like this was his new forever home. Maybe it could be… he mused. Do I dare to hope that this could be the turning point I’ve been looking for? A chance at redemption? He peered into the dimly lit cave as the dazzle of the sun’s light slowly faded from view. He saw multicolored cliques of dragons intermingling, members of various tribes having friendly banter like they hadn’t a care in the world. Could I be like them? He asked himself, daring to believe it could be so. Am I… worthy?