Vireo ran out of the house in a panic, the sunlight blinding him for a moment. He needed to see Peyote. He needed to see something normal, something that wasn't tangled in secrets and death threats. He took to the air, his flight clumsy and strained. The usual bustle of the city below—the shouting vendors, the rumbling carts—was just a dull roar. His mind was a storm.
Tell him. You have to tell him. This nation is in danger.
No. I can't.
He's your best friend! He needs to know what we stumbled into!
And what then? He panics. He tells Apex. He tells everyone! He can't keep a secret this big! And my mother she'll know. That look in her eyes… she wasn't bluffing.
The short flight felt like longer than it should've. By the time he landed outside Peyote's house, his head was pounding. He knocked on the door. Shortly after, it creaked open and he was met with the gleeful face of Peyote.
"Vireo! You're here! Look, look!" Peyote whispered, beckoning him enter the house with a frantic wave of his talon. They walked to his room.
"You're parents at work?" Vireo asked.
Peyote nodded. "Yeah, but they get the day off tomorrow. But anyways," he said cheerfully, "come look at the Cloth Monkey. He's in my room."
Peyote's house was similar to Vireo's but maybe a little more decorated, with various little art pieces on shelves. They got to his room and Peyote opened the door. They walked in, and he showed him a cage on the floor. Vireo peered into the space. The little Cloth Monkey was awake. It had taken a few smooth, flat stones and was trying, with intense concentration, to stack them on top of each other. The tower would get two stones high before wobbling and tumbling down. Each time it fell, Leafy would let out a tiny, frustrated squeak and start again.
A small, weak smile touched Vireo's snout. The sight was so absurdly innocent, so far removed from his mother's deadly serious world.
He's trying to build something. Like a den maybe," Peyote observed. "He's so smart, Vireo! I gave him a piece of dried mango this morning and he loved it!"
Vireo watched the little creature, his heart aching. This small, life was at the center of a problem he didn't even know existed.
"Vireo?" Peyote said, turning to look at him properly. His excited grin faded. "Hey, what's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost."
Vireo opened his mouth, the truth lodged in his throat. He saw Peyote's trusting, happy face, and the decision was made for him. He couldn't shatter that. He couldn't put that deadly fear into his friend's eyes. Not yet. He had to carry this alone.
He shook his head. "No, it's nothing."
"Are you worried about Leafy?" Peyote asked gesturing to the Cloth Monkey with a wing. "He's doing fine, don't worry."
"You named him already?" Vireo said.
"Obviously," Peyote replied with a wave of his talon. "If I have a pet, I'm going to name it. I ended on up Leafy, because of the green cloth she's wearing." Peyote looked at Leafy and grinned. Surprisingly, the Cloth Monkey made a similar expression back, like it was imitating Peyote.
"Wait," Vireo said, following his gaze. "How do you know it's a girl."
"I really don't," Peyote said with a shrug. "But most of my other pets I had I just assumed was a boy, so I might as well change it up a bit."
Vireo chuckled, the sound a little strained. "Makes sense, I guess." He knelt closer to the cage, the heavy weight in his chest lifting just a tiny bit. "Hey, Leafy."
Leafy paused in her stone-stacking efforts and looked at him. Her dark, intelligent eyes blinked slowly. Then, she did something unexpected. She picked up one of the small, smooth stones and held it out through the bars of the cage, offering it to him.
Whoa," Peyote breathed, his frills fluttering. "She wants to share! Or maybe she wants you to help her build!"
Vireo hesitated for a second, then carefully took the stone from her. It was smooth and cool against his scales. Leafy watched him, her head tilted, then went back to her pile, picking up another stone.
"This is amazing," Vireo murmured, rolling the small stone in his claws. He looked at her tiny, paws, the way they so carefully gripped the stones. He thought of his own large five digit talons, comparing the huge difference between the two.
"How did you get her to be so calm?" Vireo said, still observing the Cloth Monkey.
"Well, first when she saw the city, she made a really weird sound. Like of shock or something, then when I put her in the cage I had laying around, she started getting angry." He tapped the cage. "But it looks like she's more content now."
"So she was angry?" Vireo asked, raising a brow. "What's an angry Cloth Monkey look like?"
"Well," Peyote began, "she grabbed the bars and shook them really hard. And she made this low, rumbling noise in her chest. Not a squeak, but something deeper. It was kind of scary, actually." He shuddered theatrically. "But then I gave her the mango, and she calmed right down."
Vireo watched Leafy, who had now abandoned her stone tower and was meticulously grooming the dark green cloth she wore, picking off a tiny speck of dust with her nimble fingers. She seemed completely focused.
"Do you think we should… let her out?" Peyote asked with a hopeful whisper. "Just for a little bit? While my parents are gone? She seems to have accepted us."
The responsible part of Vireo screamed bad idea. But the part that loved secrets and stress was curious. He wanted a closer look. "I don't know, Peyote. What if she runs and hides somewhere we can't reach her?"
"We'll close the door to the room!" Peyote insisted, already moving to do so. "Where could she even go?" He carefully closed the door. "Come on. Just for a minute."
Peyote unlatched the cage door and swung it open. For a moment, Leafy didn't move. She just stared at the opening, then at the two giant dragons watching her. Slowly, cautiously, she crept to the edge of the cage. She swung one small leg over short bars, then the other, making contact with the ground. She stood there, looking up at them.
She took a step, then another. She walked over to Vireo's arms, planted on the ground. Vireo held perfectly still, barely breathing. She reached out and gently patted one of his large claws with her soft paw. Then, she turned and trotted over to Peyote's sleeping mat. She patted it, then climbed on top and sat down, looking around the room as if it were her own little kingdom.
"She likes my bed!" Peyote whispered.
Vireo flicked his tail. "It seems so," he concurred. He began slowly walking towards Leafy, his tail dragging behind him.
"What are you doing?" Peyote asked.
"I'm testing if she's truly not afraid of us."
He stopped in front of Leafy. Her expression didn't change. Her gaze drifted to the tip of Vireo's stinger, which was resting on the stone floor. With fearlessness, she got off of the mat and ran over to him.
Vireo stiffened, but Peyote whispered, "It's okay. Just stay still." She gently touched the obsidian-black barb with the tip of her finger, a look of concentration on her face.
"That's so... strange. Has anyone else seen her yet?" he commented, tearing his gaze away from the strange little creature. "Apex? Scoria?"
Peyote shook his head. "No. Just you. I wanted to make sure she was settled in first before I showed anyone else."
Vireo dipped his head down to be level with Leafy. He was curious what she was going to do in response.
Peyote slightly flared his wings. "H-hey, what are you doing?"
Surprisingly, Leafy came up to his snout and patted him on top of a nostril. She spotted his fangs, and without hesitation ran her little fingers down it. He let her do this, then backed up when she was done.
"Is it completely stupid?" Vireo looked at Peyote.
"No!" He refuted, his body slightly bristling. "Why would you say that?" He lashed his tail.
"Well, it's because it seems Leafy has absolutely no self-preservation skills. How do Cloth Monkeys survive in the wild?"
"Because," Peyote began explaining, with an annoyed undertone. "Obviously she's really smart and knows we aren't a threat."
Vireo considered this. That would be incredible and completely new for an animal. Usually they take a while to get used to a dragon ten times the size of them. Apparently it took Leafy none at all. "So since you haven't been aggressive to her, she's warmed up that quickly?"
"Yep," Peyote answered. He made a proud expression. "She knows that I'm a good dragon." He looked at Vireo and added, "But she also thinks your a good dragon too. She showed like no signs of fear."
"Well," Vireo said, standing up and stretching his sore muscles. "I have something to do. I should probably get going." He lied of course. He wasn't doing anything today. But he wanted to fly alone.
Peyote carefully scooped Leafy up and placed her back in the cage, giving her another piece of dried mango as a reward, which she accepted happily. "Alright. See you later then?"
"Yeah. Later," Vireo replied, his voice distant.
He left Peyotes house and stepped out into the afternoon sun, launching himself into the sky, the air fresh.. He flew without direction, his powerful wingbeats pushing him higher and higher, away from the city, away from his mother's house, away from everything. He just needed space. He needed to think.
The Monoliths. The words echoed in his head. Supernatural abilities beyond comprehension. What did that even mean?
He pictured a dragon, maybe one of his mother's agents, standing before one of the stone tablets. What would happen? Would their scales turn to diamond? Would they breathe fire hot enough to melt stone? Could they command the winds, summon storms, move mountains with a thought? The idea was terrifying. There were rare instances documented of dragons around the continent being able to control the elements. For example, the dragon Malpais, was famous in Ventifact for being able to control the movement of sand to a degree. Not like city-destroying power, but the 'I could easily kill five dragons' kind. Ever since, the queen has conscripted most of the sand controllers into her army. Vireo feared he would eventually end up conscripted as well, since he had both venomous fangs and a venomous stinger.
His mind went to the other dragon nations. To Inselberg, the other great sand dragon kingdom across the vast desert. They were somewhat rivals, but there was a balance. If Ventifact suddenly had a dragon that could, say, create oases out of thin air or command sandstorms that could bury a city, what would stop them from simply taking whatever they wanted? The peace would shatter. Inselberg would be forced to war against Ventifact, and dragons will lose their lives.
Then he thought of the Ocean-Claws, their powerful empire under the water, and scattered among islands. They were strong. But what if a Ventifact dragon with Monolith power could walk on water, or boil the sea around their fleets? The Ocean-Claws wouldn't surrender. They would fight. A war like that would turn the coastlines into a graveyard.
And Desna, the small nation of Volcanic Dragons nestled in the mountains. They were fewer in number but immensely powerful in their own right. Would they be a target? Or would they be forced into an alliance with Ventifact, their power added to an already unstoppable force?
He was worried. This was about one nation holding the power to remake the world in its own image. And his mother was a part of it. He felt a surge of cold fury. It was a mad grab for a power that no dragon should ever possess.