Kingdoms Falling

Chapter 10

The salt and waves slammed ruthlessly into his neck and face, and Meadow shuddered, pulling his cloak closer for the little protection it would give him against the sand. His eyes scanned the dark waters to the distant islands protruding from the murky depths and he dug his talons into the sand warily. Behind him, the portal glimmered and shone, almost encouraging him onward. Did it know what he was about to do? Or how terribly afraid it made him? Of course not. It was an inanimate object. It had no feelings, no reason to pity him, the one who was probably going to die protecting dragons who hated his very existence.

He took a deep breath and focused on unpacking his bags and attaching the last of his invention together. He wondered what Cotton would do in this situation, or even Cloud. They would plunge in without the slightest regards to their own safety because, to them, a group of possibly ruthless strangers was worth more than their own lives. Meadow didn't feel the same. Did that make him a bad dragon? Should he have felt like them? Neither of them had ever been spat at or made an outcast because they weren't considered "dragon enough". They didn't know what it was like to live in fear, constantly looking over their shoulder for another jib or cruel joke about; "Why can't you breathe fire?" "Where are your gills?" "What are those things on your face?" and "Why can't you be less of a boring mud puddle?"

He closed his eyes to block out the onslaught of memories, and instead honed in on the sound of the waves dashing against the rocks. They provided him with a kind of peace that he couldn't explain. He supposed the sea dragon part of him still resented his leaving and it was singing for joy to be back. 

However, the other part of him, whatever it might be, was voicing a very different tune. An air of caution. A whisper of, "You are being completely insensible right now, diving into a world that would love to see your rotting carcass on their front stoop. Go back. Tell Cloud the truth. That you couldn't face up to your past. He'll understand. He'll send someone else in your place."

But there is no one else, he reasoned with himself as he opened his eyes to watch the last seconds of light vanish behind the ocean. Cloud sent me to do this because I was the only one he could trust to get the job done. And by Clouddusk, I am not going to let him down.

Because to fail his captain would prove to Cotton exactly what she'd suspected from the start. That he was a spineless wimp. No, he couldn't fail. Even if that meant facing an entire army bent on killing him, and a partially insane half-brother. 

Absentmindedly attaching the final piece of his contraption, he let out his breath and set to work digging a hole to bury his bags. The last thing he wanted was for some scavenger to come along and scoop them up while he was gone. Especially not when he had several informational scrolls and studies of the other tribes to share with Gill once he found him. Surely the older dragon would spare some time to come to the surface and listen to all the things Meadow had learned about the other breeds in his adventures. Things of such nature fascinated the elderly librarian.

He would love to know about Marblerivver dragons' scales being hot, how Raynbow hatchlings sparkle like diamonds, how thick the armor is on a jungle dragon, and of course, that there are still blue dragons. And that they aren't all bad...

He trailed off there, realizing what he sounded like. He was acting like a floundering sea hatchling, revealing all of his enemy's secrets in the hopes of being praised for his efforts. But he wasn't that dragon anymore. He wasn't loyal to the sea crown. He wasn't sure he'd ever really been. 

He was sure he could never have been loyal to a world that shunned differences. 

After all, that was why he ran away in the first place.