The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon
Chapter 59: The Sea and the Storm

It filled Tideweaver's heart with joy to see his father and the others in full flight – more than two dozen dragons with his father at the centre of the formation. His father was the swiftest of them all, but their formation would not have lasted long if they had kept to the pace he could set. Instead, they held to a pace in keeping with dragons of the Second Awakening.

With the right magic, a dragon of the Second Awakening could stay airborne for days if necessary, and magic was not in short supply. Rather than take the most direct route to their destination, they were following the great currents of magic that coursed through the sea and sky. The weaker members of their group could use that magic to enhance themselves, and it was a simple enough matter for those of the Third or Fourth Awakening to carry them if they grew tired. Unawakened Dragons and dragons of the First Awakening were far smaller than even the smallest dragon of the Third Awakening, to say nothing of their size compared to those of the Fourth Awakening like his father or himself.

"My apologies for my weakness." The words came from Azurewave, the young dragon clinging onto Tideweaver's back. "I will do better in the future."

Tideweaver couldn't help but chuckle. This was not the first time Azurewave had apologised, nor would it be the last. She seemed to think her presence some great imposition. In truth, she was good company when she wasn't apologising, and she was so small and light that she hardly qualified as a burden.

"No apologies are necessary. You have yet to achieve your First Awakening. It is not surprising that you need assistance to keep up. Besides, we belong to the same faction, and it was I who invited you to attend the meeting. What sort of leader would I be if I abandoned my own followers?"

She made an embarrassed sound and pressed her snout into his scales. She had come to his attention fairly recently. Her family had served his father for some time although they had yet to distinguish themselves in any way, which was fine. By all accounts, they tended to their duties diligently. Not everyone could be a hero or a legend. Lasting success was built not only by those with remarkable aptitude but also by those who handled mundane matters, or so his father said. Having paid closer attention to the working of his father's faction over the past few centuries, Tideweaver was inclined to agree. No leader, however mighty, could hope to successfully rule a large swathe of territory alone. And although fear could make others obey, it was better to rule through a shared sense of belonging, a mutual destiny that all aspired to and contributed toward. His father's tide might rise the highest, but all who served would rise with him.

There were dragons amongst his father's followers who served as instructors, tutoring the young in a variety of subjects. Tideweaver was on good terms with many of them. Indeed, many had either grown up alongside him or were the children of those who had. On a hunt for some sea serpents, one of them had mentioned that Azurewave had shown promise in alchemy.

Alchemy was not a field in which Tideweaver had much talent. He knew what any dragon of the Fourth Awakening should know, and he could perform a number of essential alchemical techniques. However, he had shifted his focus to other areas after discovering how… mediocre his talent was. Nevertheless, he knew how useful alchemy could be. Alchemy could be used to make all manner of materials that were essential for magical items, healing, and Awakening. His father had several skilled alchemists in his service, but none had demonstrated promise at such an early age.

Naturally, there was only so much Azurewave could do as an Unawakened dragon, but that was not a difficult problem to solve. Tideweaver had taken her under his wing, supervising her training as his father had supervised his. It had become clear almost immediately that she would only ever be a middling fighter, but her talent for magic, especially alchemy, was real. Moreover, she was unfailingly hard working and thorough in her preparations, both ideal qualities for a student of alchemy to possess. He had heard many times how unprepared or sloppy alchemical work could easily lead to disaster. He knew of more than one merfolk alchemist who had inadvertently levelled a settlement after making a mistake, and dragons were capable of far more destruction on account of their greater power. His father had even mentioned an incident in which Doomwing had levelled a mountain by accident although the primordial dragon had apparently suffered no injury, on account of his thorough preparations.

Tideweaver believed that she was ready for her First Awakening. However, he would not allow her to risk herself needlessly. There was no need to rush. It was better to secure every possible advantage before she made the attempt. Both of her parents had reached their Second Awakenings, but based on their abilities, it was unlikely they would ever Awaken further. Tideweaver had much higher hopes for Azurewave. Few specialist alchemists ever reached their Fourth Awakening, but those that did were incredibly powerful, capable of vastly enhancing the power of whatever faction they belonged to, provided they were properly supplied with materials for their work.

He had also seen the agony that those who botched their First Awakening endured, and he had no intention of watching Azurewave suffer in that manner. Her diligence should be rewarded, and having to spend centuries dealing with complications would only hinder her progress in alchemy.

Just then, Azurewave looked up and gave a cry of alarm.

"What is that?" she cried, pointing northward.

Tideweaver turned his gaze northward. The sky had been clear since they began their journey, which was hardly surprising. The power his father and those of his lineage possessed was more than sufficient to disperse any storms that might have barred their path. Of course, that was more for the benefit of the younger, weaker dragons. No natural storm could hope to hinder Tideweaver, but the Unawakened or First Awakening dragons might struggle if the storm proved large and fierce enough. As members of the same faction, it was only right that the strong protect the weak.

What approached from the north, however, was no natural storm. A vast wall of black clouds spread across the horizon, and it moved with a speed that no normal storm could hope to match. Lightning crackled within it, great ladders and forks of electricity cutting jagged paths through the clouds. Thunder echoed too, not a single discrete boom, but a constant, endless roar.

"Father?" Tideweaver asked, bracing himself for battle.

His father laughed and motioned for the others to remain calm. "She agreed to meet me, but I assumed it would be later." He nodded at the storm. "That is Stormbringer and her followers."

Tideweaver's eyes widened. "Stormbringer?"

It had been a long time since he'd met the primordial dragon. She had visited his father's domain on business. His impression of her had been simple: wild and fierce, a storm made flesh who radiated power in suffocating waves. Only his father had stood before her undaunted, and it seemed very little had changed since then.

In mere moments, the storm reached them. The wind howled, and great sheets of rain smashed down on them. Lightning cracked and thunder boomed, and he glimpsed massive shapes streaking through the sky. The largest of them was also the swiftest and most agile, spinning, wheeling, and lancing through the clouds in a way more reminiscent of a sparrow or a hummingbird than a dragon.

It was not without reason that many believed Stormbringer to be the finest flier alive.

Stormbringer banked toward them wreathed in a corona of wind, rain, and lightning. She bared her teeth, and when she spoke, the storm echoed her words. "Well met, Fathombinder. Behold! Before the storm even the seas must bow."

The words would have been an insult if not for the amusement that filled them. Even so, Tideweaver could not help but bristle, for there were few indeed who would dare to address his father so casually.

"Well met, Stormbringer." His father bared his teeth and laughed. "Yet without the waters of the world, what would even the mightiest of storms be?"

And then he felt it. His father's power, so often restrained and hidden, erupted. It was a physical force, a tidal wave pressing back against the storm raging around them. Stormbringer matched him, her own power bearing down on them with all the fury of a hurricane.

The rain stopped in mid-air only to jerk into motion again, and the clouds dispersed only to regather. Below them, the storm-tossed surface of the sea calmed and then raged once more. In the end, Stormbringer grinned toothily and released her power. Tideweaver's father did the same. The sky cleared once again, and the seas grew calm. Finally, Tideweaver could see the full size of Stormbringer's delegation. It was similar to theirs. On his back, Azurewave sagged in relief, her small form trembling from the backlash of being present when two primordial dragons tested each other, albeit only playfully.

"I thought we would meet later," his father said.

Stormbringer chuckled, and the wind carried her amusement. "I was bored and sensed you nearby. I thought it would be better to meet beforehand." She smirked. "I might get distracted later."

"Hmm…" His father gave a low rumble. "The meeting will undoubtedly offer many opportunities for mischief – mischief I am sure you will enjoy watching."

"You are not wrong." Stormbringer snickered. "But there will also be plenty of important work to do, and there will be opportunities that I must seize."

"Yes. That is true." Tideweaver's father gestured at him. "My son, Tideweaver."

"You've grown since we last met." Stormbringer flew in a lazy circle around him, rolling and twisting in a display of aerial agility that few could have matched. Yet she did it effortlessly, with the ease a lesser dragon might have shown in performing the simplest of tricks. "Your Fourth Awakening must have gone very well. You and your father must be proud. Several of my children have already reached their Fourth Awakening, but none managed it with quite so much ease."

Tideweaver might have thought the words mere flattery, but Stormbringer was known for speaking bluntly. Several of her children had indeed achieved their Fourth Awakenings. In fact, of all the primordial dragons, Stormbringer had the most descendants. She had taken several mates over the Ages, and she even had great-grandchildren. Yet despite the size of her family, she remained dedicated to their success, ensuring all of them could progress as far as they were able. Indeed, although it rankled him to admit it, her faction's fighting power exceeded his father's, driven in no small part by her children and the mates they themselves had taken over the years.

"I am proud." His father motioned for them to resume their previous pace. To no one's surprise, Stormbringer and her followers had no problems keeping up. If anything, they'd been travelling much more quickly before. "We can talk while we fly, and our followers can introduce themselves. There are few occasions more pleasant than a good flight over open water with clear skies above."

Stormbringer grinned. "I don't disagree with the good flight part, but I'll beg to differ when it comes to open skies." She glanced at her followers. "What are you dawdling for? Introduce yourselves."

Seeing his father glance his way, Tideweaver took the hint, moving to introducing himself to members of Stormbringer's group as she and his father moved aside to discuss matters of their own. Rather than speak openly, most of their conversation was conducted using communication magic, which meant that Tideweaver was not privy to it. Nevertheless, he had certain suspicions. His father could have spoken to him about them, but he wondered if this was another test. After all, a leader should be cunning and wise. It would not do for his father to simply gift him tasty morsels, the way he had when Tideweaver had been a mere hatchling.

As of late, his father had been considering expanding their territory while improving its quality. Expansion was not always easy or straightforward. An archipelago was made up of islands, but there were only so many naturally occurring islands. There was magic for making more islands, but dragons of their lineage were not ideally suited to it. However, there were two dragons who were. Quakeclaw was one, and Ashheart was the other. Both would be at the meeting. Of course, expanding their territory was good, but improving its quality was also important, and there were two major things they lacked.

Dryads and coral reefs.

The gods had not created dragons in isolation. His father had told Tideweaver of the First Age and the wonders the gods had made. All of their creations were like pieces of a puzzle only they could see. Their deaths meant that puzzle could no longer be completed.

Dragons were gifted in many ways, but there were things they struggled to do – things that dryads often excelled at. However, few dryads were willing to live in archipelagos when there were still large swathes of unclaimed territory on the main continents. It was easier for them to live there, and if they ever needed to flee – not that fleeing was easy for dryads – their chances of success were far greater there than amidst a collection of islands.

Yet there was a group of dryads that was happy to live in an archipelago. Tyche and her children all lived in an archipelago – an archipelago ruled by Stormbringer. The dryad and the dragon had been close friends since the Third Age, and his father had told him that they often consulted each other about important decisions. If his father wanted a dryad to come to their territory, then his best option was to ask Tyche. However, that would not be easy for his father to do. He had no great friendship with the dryad. He hardly knew her at all. Instead, it would better to approach Stormbringer and ask her to speak on his behalf.

Naturally, any dryad who came to their territory would be young. Older dryads only moved under the direst circumstances, and such moves rarely went well. However, any dryad that came to their territory would be treated with the utmost care and honour. To do anything less would shame them, and if something were to happen to the dryad, he doubted Tyche would give his father a second chance. More pragmatically, they also needed to the dryad to do well. He had seen the dryads of Stormbringer's realm with their great bridges made of roots and branches. Their oceans and coasts had thrived, and he could still picture the mangroves filled with life and abundance. His father wanted that for their domain, and Tideweaver wanted it too.

Corals were similar to dryads yet different. A single coral polyp was a weak, barely intelligent creature with hardly any magic at all. However, coral polyps were not like dragons. Dragons possessed a single body ruled by a single mind. In contrast, coral polyps were all part of a greater whole. Each coral polyp in a reef was linked to the others, and as their numbers grew, so too did their strength, intelligence, and magic.

The largest reefs were often thought of as the dryads of the sea. Not only did the reefs serve as homes for countless creatures, but the reefs themselves had the ability to enhance their surroundings and the creatures that dwelt there. A powerful reef could easily quadruple the productivity of the surrounding ocean and greatly accelerate the progress of merfolk and other aquatic creatures. The mightiest reefs were a match for even krakens and leviathans although he had never heard of any choosing to fight against those fathom-dwelling behemoths. Instead, those reefs generally formed strong alliances with those wise and ancient creatures, leaving themselves free to focus on growing rather than fighting.

Reefs had once dotted his father's domain, but they had all died at the end of the Sixth Age. Their nature – a unified will composed of many minds – had left them uniquely vulnerable to the machinations of the Sixth Catastrophe. Countermeasures had eventually been prepared, but it had already been too late for the reefs in his father's domain. They had been driven completely insane. Some had turned their powers on themselves, essentially committing suicide. Others had lashed out at each other. And still others had lashed out at his father and the other dragons.

Tideweaver's claws clenched, and his muscle tightened. On his back, Azurewave must have sensed his tension because she made a comforting sound, not unlike the croons his mother had once soothed him with as a hatchling. He had been friends with one of those reefs, and when the Sixth Catastrophe had driven the reef mad, he had done everything he could to help him. He had failed, and the reef had tried to kill him. Tideweaver had been shocked. How could his friend of so many years turn against him? He might well have died there, but his father had saved him. Unfortunately, for all his father's power, the reef had not been weak either. To save Tideweaver, his father had been forced to strike a killing blow.

Nothing remained of that reef except a crater in the sea.

In the end, they had not been able to save any of the reefs. The madness that had overtaken them had proven to be far too effective. His father had laughed bitterly when word of the countermeasures had come. Those countermeasures would protect the reefs and others with similar minds, but they had come too late to save the reefs in their territory.

Reefs all around the world spoke to each other using methods only they knew of. The disaster that had unfolded in his father's territory was therefore known to the survivors. He had sought to obtain coral polyps to establish new reefs, but he had been refused.

His father had been refused.

If not for the backing of the great krakens and leviathans, the reefs would not have dared. But they had that backing, and simply taking coral polyps and forcing them to establish a new reef had never been successful unless the coral polyps were willing. Instead of a proper reef, they would get a nightmare of blackened coral and dying waters, a grim reflection of the coral polyps' forced servitude. What they needed were willing coral polyps, and there had been none, not at the end of the Sixth Age.

But that could change. A thousand years had passed. There were bound to be some coral polyps eager to found their own reef, and his father would surely offer them suitable compensation and protection. And if they could secure a dryad, that would only bolster their chances. No dryad would willingly send one of her daughters to a dangerous place. If his father could get a dryad, then the coral polyps would know that his domain was safe. If nothing else, they could simply offer a large enough bribe to convince a particularly ambitious group of coral polyps. As long as a single reef could be established, it would not be long before others came, eager to grow in areas away from the older, more established reefs. They could also have their merfolk appeal on their behalf. His father had always treated the merfolk in his territory well, so they would surely speak favourably of the conditions.

Tideweaver was broken from his musings when he noticed someone in his blind spot. He shifted slightly, only for them to adjust their position. Feeling a hint of irritation, he turned to scowl at the culprit.

It was a dragon of Stormbringer's lineage. No. If her appearance was anything to go by, she was likely one of Stormbringer's children or grandchildren. The female dragon noticed his scowl and chuckled before rolling languidly through the air until she was flying beside him.

"My apologies. Grandmother encourages us to make flying a game when we're bored."

"And hiding in people's blind spots is a game?" Tideweaver asked, not sharply but pointedly.

She smiled back. "For us, it is." She grinned. "Grandmother does it all the time. She says the only real way to get better at aerial combat is to live and breathe it. Every time we go flying, we can expect to learn a thing or to – and let me tell you, it's scary getting caught off guard by grandmother. You wouldn't think someone so large could move so stealthily in the air, but she never fails to surprise us." Her grin widened. "I am Thundertail."

"An auspicious name," he replied. "I am Tideweaver." He nodded at the dragon on his back. "She is Azurewave."

Thundertail smiled gently at the much younger and smaller dragon. "Greetings."

"Greetings," Azurewave squeaked back.

"You remind me a bit of a cousin I have," Thundertail said. "He's not much of a fighter and he can be a bit timid, but he's got a good head on his shoulders. He knows a lot about magic too." She smiled. "Just to be clear, I'm not insulting you. Not everybody is born for battle although it never hurts to be good at it. Some of us are just more inclined toward research or other pursuits. That's why living in groups is good. You don't have to be great at everything."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tideweaver stifled the urge to retort sharply. She had meant no offence. She was simply blunt in the same way her grandmother was. Besides, he agreed with the sentiment. Not all were meant for battle. It was better for a craftsman to craft than to stumble onto the battlefield where they would only prove a hindrance or meet an early demise. "You speak truly." His eyes narrowed as he examined her more keenly. "You are close to your Fourth Awakening, are you not?"

"You can tell? You've got good eyes." Thundertail sighed. "I envy you, you know."

"Me?" Tideweaver asked, surprised. "You envy me?"

"Of course, I do. Everyone knows how smoothly your Fourth Awakening went." Thundertail made a face. "We all know what can happen if a Fourth Awakening fails. You must have been so relieved when it turned out so well."

Despite her bluntness, Tideweaver found himself nodding. "Yes." He paused. "My father was… concerned before my Fourth Awakening." He would not say that his father had been afraid although he had seen traces of fear in his father's eyes. Not even his father had been able to guarantee his safety should his attempt fail. "But my father trained me well, and I was able to perform to the best of my ability when the opportunity arose. Indeed, he spared no resource to aid me, and we prepared as thoroughly as possible." And for that, Tideweaver would always be grateful. His father had bestowed a gift upon him beyond any other – a life free from the shackles of time.

"My grandmother is hoping for the same for me, but you can never be sure." Thundertail giggled. "She plans to badger Doomwing into examining me to minimise the risks. If there is anything that he can make or give that will help, I have ample resources to offer him. After all, if I succeed, I will have plenty of time to replenish my hoard."

"He is said to be extremely skilled." Tideweaver could still remember his father debating with his mother if they should wait for Doomwing to awaken in earnest before Tideweaver made his attempt. In the end, Tideweaver had argued that he was ready, and his father had conceded, admitting that they had no idea of how much longer Doomwing would continue to slumber, stirring only for a short period each century.

"He is." Thundertail's eyes gleamed. "I heard you encountered one of my grandmother's fellows recently."

Tideweaver twitched. He couldn't help it. "Perhaps." He huffed. "But how do you know about that?"

"There were many dragons present during the battle. Some of them have spoken of it." She smiled teasingly. "If you are worried, don't be. Nobody thinks less of you for losing. Indeed, quite a few admire you for having the courage to try." She lowered her voice. "Was he as strong as they say? It has been an Age since he last saw battle."

"Stronger, perhaps." Tideweaver growled. "I stood no chance at all."

"Few do. My grandmother once gave me advice if I ever got into trouble with Ashheart."

"What?"

"Flee. He's not the quickest in the air, so I might be able to escape him. In a fight? I'd stand no chance at all."

"That would be true of many dragons." Tideweaver could not imagine any dragon save for another of the primordial dragons standing up to Ashheart in battle. Even his father, who Tideweaver held in the highest esteem, would likely do his very best to avoid close combat. The tectonic dragon was simply too strong, too large, and too durable to trade blows with.

"Hey." Thundertail glanced at Azurewave. "We've got a long way to go until we reach the meeting. Do you want to try riding on my back for a while?" She smirked. "I might not have reached my Fourth Awakening yet, but there aren't many who can outfly me."

Azurewave made a hopeful sound, and Tideweaver chuckled. Azurewave was not a particularly gifted flier, but she definitely enjoyed flying.

"Go," Tideweaver said. "But I will have your word, Thundertail. No harm comes to her."

"Of course." Thundertail grinned. "Come on, kiddo. You water dragons are way better than us storm dragons underwater, but in the air? I'll show you what flying is really about."

There was a certain joy to be found in testing himself against a truly worthy opponent. For all that Fathombinder was not arrogant, he knew that not a single one of his followers could match him. The only dragons who could were his fellow primordial dragons, and even then, it was difficult to find a contest that put them on relatively equal footing.

But Stormbringer was different.

Her lineage ruled over the weather, and that gave her dominion over the clouds, the rain, and the wind. However, his lineage ruled over the waters of the world. To most, that meant the streams, rivers, lakes, seas, and oceans of the world. But Fathombinder had long since learned that his authority extended beyond such things. The waters of the world – that statement was not metaphor, it was fact. His lineage's true gift was hydrokinesis on a scale that precious few could hope to match.

He too could command the clouds and the rain. He too could call down hail and sleet and snow. There was overlap between his lineage's domain and others, but nowhere was that gap so small as the contest he and Stormbringer had just fought. When it came to the clouds and the rain, they were closely matched. Too often, a simple push would be enough to topple his foes. It was… gratifying to push against a foe and find them unmoving. Of course, a true contest of their powers could not be done with the others present. The weaker dragons would perish if they were to fight with their full strength. Such a contest would have to wait until later, perhaps after the meeting when they had finished discussing matters of import. They would have to choose the location carefully as well. He doubted Regal Flame would appreciate them flattening parts of her territory, nor would the dryads of the nearby desert appreciate sudden torrential downpours in their domain.

"If you want a dryad, you will have to visit Tyche yourself," Stormbringer said through communication magic.

He replied in the same way, "Naturally. The other dryads are her daughters. I would not trust my children to someone who refuses to meet me face to face."

"You will also need to prove your sincerity."

"How? What must I do?" This was why he had sought her out. Not only could she introduce him to Tyche but she could also inform him of the dryad's expectations. He had no intention of approaching the dryad like a beggar hoping for a gift. Instead, he wanted to present himself as a ruler capable of providing for one of her children.

"Your realm is different from mine. The climate, the water, the soil, the magic… all must be accounted for. Should she permit one of her daughters to go to your domain, you must demonstrate your ability to guarantee the best possible conditions for her." Stormbringer's gaze grew sombre. "Much like hatchlings, dryads are more sensitive to their environment during their younger years. You must find the richest soil with the strongest currents of magic in an environment as similar to my lands as possible. The waters there must also be as similar as possible to those in my territory."

Fathombinder considered her words carefully. "I can think of three places that meet those conditions. I can show each to the dryad and allow her to choose."

"You should also be prepared to accept creatures from my domain," Stormbringer said.

"Oh?"

"Dragons of your lineage can learn magic that helps plants grow, but there are those amongst mine and Tyche's followers who specialise in such magic. Should she send one of her daughters, you can expect some to go with her. They will be loyal to her, not you." The last sentence was a blunt statement.

Fathombinder could have chafed at those words. As ruler of his lands, should those creatures not be loyal to him? But he understood the concern behind the words. A young dryad in a distant land with none of her kin to call upon for aid. Who would agree to that without loyal servants to accompany them? "In time, I will win her loyalty, and thus the loyalty of those who serve her."

"A good answer." She glanced away for a moment, her gaze drifting to where his son and one of her grandchildren flew. "You seek to add more islands. I intend to do the same."

"Yes." Fathombinder sighed. "Can I expect you to assist me in negotiations?"

"With whom?" Stormbringer asked.

"With Ashheart," Fathombinder said. She gave him a look, and he chuckled mirthlessly. "What? Did you think I would seek out Quakeclaw?"

"No, but it would be amusing to see you try."

"I am not so foolish as that. Quakeclaw is mighty, yes, and his long years of grief will only have made him stronger. However, I want stability, and Ashheart can provide that."

Stormbringer grinned. "Yes. Ashheart is much like myself. If he wants something, he will tell you. You may not necessarily like how negotiations go with him, but at least you will know what he wants. And should negotiations fail, he is unlikely to hold a grudge, provided he is treated with respect." Her eyes gleamed. "In that regard, your son's stunt may prove useful."

"Oh?" Fathombinder could not help but sigh again at the reminder of his son's foolishness. Had Ashheart been a crueller dragon, his son could very well have lost his life. Doomwing, for instance, would not have killed him, but he would certainly have left him in considerably more pain to remind him of the consequences of his folly.

"Your son lost – badly – but Ashheart is a warrior through and through. Your son challenged him openly in accordance with the old ways. Ashheart will not think poorly of him for that. And that sort of courage will be useful to Ashheart. He has a son, Lavatide, who is not far from his Fourth Awakening. Your son may prove to be an excellent training partner for him as he prepares."

Fathombinder gave a low rumble. "Yes. I can see that happening." It was incredibly important for a dragon to push themselves mentally and physical before attempting their Fourth Awakening. During their Fourth Awakening, they would be subjected to unimaginable physical and mental pressure and agony. Unless they had experienced such things beforehand, they could easily be overwhelmed. Training against a suitable opponent was key, yet it was hard for a Third Awakening dragon to receive that training from a primordial dragon. The gap was simply too vast. His son had achieved his Fourth Awakening, but only recently. He would have the power to push Lavatide to his limits, yet the gap would be far smaller than the gap between Lavatide and Ashheart. "And it would be good for my son to learn how to train others for their Fourth Awakening."

There were several dragons in Fathombinder's group who were ready to begin training for their Fourth Awakenings in earnest. Training with Lavatide would only help his son better play the part of trainer to them in the future. Besides, it could not hurt for his son to make friends amongst the children of the other primordial dragons.

Fathombinder was no fool. He was mighty, but even the mighty could fall. They had been fortunate against the Fourth Catastrophe, but they had lost Chasmfang against the Fifth Catastrophe. For all that Quakeclaw had doted upon his younger brother, Chasmfang had been no weakling. Yet the Exiled Star had overwhelmed him with ease. Had Fathombinder been in his place, he would not have fared any better. Although the Sixth Catastrophe had not been so mighty as the Fifth in battle, she had still possessed the strength to almost slay Doomwing, and that was no easy thing. Setting aside the rumours of her somehow wielding a spear of god-metal, the fact that she had almost slain Doomwing was chilling. Doomwing was extremely skilled in battle with a broad, versatile skillset. He was also wise, cunning, and quick-witted. Once again, Fathombinder was forced to conclude that if he had been in Doomwing's place, he might well have fallen.

If there was another Catastrophe, could Fathombinder be sure of his survival? No. He could not. And if he fell, could he be sure that his followers would remain loyal? For some of them? Yes. But for others? No. What he feared more than his own death was what would happen to his mate and children. That was why he had allowed Tideweaver to push for his Fourth Awakening. Now that he had achieved it, few could afford to take him lightly. But his son needed more than just power if he wished to keep Fathombinder's faction together in the event of his passing. This meeting would give his son a chance to prove himself to Fathombinder's oldest followers, and forming friendships with the children of other primordial dragons would only strengthen his position.

Perhaps it was morbid to consider matters so deeply, but Fathombinder had not survived so long by being foolish or flighty. It was better to plan for the worst and hope for the best than to expect a perfect outcome each time. He'd seen too many good dragons fall to think himself immune to bad luck or poor circumstances.

Stormbringer, at least, was fortunate. Her descendants were numerous enough to make any attempt to overthrow her chosen successor useless unless her children betrayed each other. Given what he'd seen and what he knew of the other dragon, the chances of that occurring were vanishingly small. For all her faults – and Stormbringer certainly had them – Stormbringer loved her family fiercely and without reserve, and she had been sure to pass her values on to her children.

"We can approach Ashheart together," Stormbringer said before her smile turned crafty. "If it turns out that Quakeclaw is more stable than we thought, we can play the two against each other."

Fathombinder laughed. "Yes… before Chasmfang fell, Ashheart and Quakeclaw would often compete since their lineages share many powers. Perhaps Ashheart's revival will even ease Quakeclaw's grief. At the very least, having someone to compete against might rouse him from his mourning." He growled. "Although I wonder if his meeting with Doomwing will go poorly."

"Probably." Stormbringer seemed unconcerned. "But now that Doomwing is healed, I trust he can handle the situation. Quakeclaw is mighty, yes, but he fights too similarly to Ashheart. If need be, Doomwing can hold him at bay. And if he needs aid, I have no doubt that Regal Flame will give it to him."

"Ah. Yes. There is that." Unlike Stomrbringer who seemed to draw strength from gossip, Fathombinder saw no need to pry into the personal lives of his fellow dragons. Even so, he could admit to being curious.

"It should make for quite a show." Stormbringer's brows furrowed. "Although I do get the impression someone isn't fond of my joking about it."

Fathombinder nodded. He too could feel it. It was a presence, a sense of being watched that would have been almost impossible for him to detect if he hadn't already been anticipating it. "Her eyes are everywhere."

"Yes." Stormbringer cackled. "She is quite the voyeur." She bared her teeth. "Yes, you heard me, Fractal Reign. You. Are. A. Voyeur."

The presence receded ever so slightly, and Fathombinder could easily picture the kaleidoscope dragon's lips curling in distaste. She had a tendency to be as subtle as Stormbringer was blunt.

"Heh." Stormbringer laughed. "She's quite fun to tease when she's not moping about Oblivioncaller although I suppose I can't blame her for that."

Fathombinder shook his head. "She will be able to spend time with him at the meeting."

"Oh, she won't, not much." Stormbringer shrugged. "She respects Oblivioncaller's mate too much to do that. But she will push for their son to spend time with him. Not even his mate will be able to object to that."

"By the way," Stormbringer said. "Is there any reason in particular that you're so eager to improve and expand your territory? Obviously, improvements and expansion are all well and good, but this seems… oddly forceful."

Fathombinder's muscles tensed. "In truth, I am uneasy."

"About what?"

"I have no proof," he began. "Understand that. Only a… feeling."

"We have both lived long enough to respect intuition. Speak plainly. What troubles you?" The levity had fallen from her voice. If something troubled him, then she knew it was worth considering carefully.

"There have been stirrings in the deep," Fathombinder said. "The krakens and leviathans have begun to arm their followers, and they have clashed several times already. The island-whales have awakened and surfaced, and I have heard their whale song echo through the night. They scream of nightmares, but they cannot say what haunts their dreams, only that those dreams have grown dark indeed of late."

"Another Lord of the Tides?" Stormbringer hissed.

"No. I do not think so. We slew him and the mightiest of his followers. True, some of his children fled, and they might have grown strong in the Ages since, but I find it difficult to imagine any of them growing so mighty as to threaten the krakens and leviathans. They bowed to the Lord of the Tides because of his overwhelming might. They will not bow to any of his errant children."

"Then what?" Stormbringer asked.

"I do not know." Fathombinder's eyes narrowed. "But I remember something that Fractal Reign told me once. Are you familiar with divining bowls?"

"Yes." Stormbringer was no expert in divination, but all of the primordial dragons knew at least some methods although few of them were disposed to it the way Fractal Reign was. Her eyes widened. "Wait… are you saying…?"

"A divining bowl is a special bowl full of water. With the right magic, possible futures and even the past can be glimpsed in it. The island-whales dream, and their dreams are often of the past or prophecy. It occurs to me that perhaps the island-whales are using the oceans of the world as gigantic divining bowls. If so, then it wouldn't be surprising if other creatures like leviathans and krakens who live entirely in the oceans have also sensed something, even if they can't say what exactly they're sensing."

"This is ill news indeed. You intend to share it?"

"I do." Fathombinder nodded. "If I am wrong, and all this is nothing but the usual squabbling, so be it. But if I am right…"

"Then we will have a chance to prepare early for the storm that approaches." Her lips curled. "You are quite skilled at bringing down the mood. I thought that to be more Oblivioncaller's speciality. Let us speak of something else."

"Of course." Fathombinder acknowledged the point with a brief nod. Until he knew more, speaking further of the matter was pointless. "Tell me, do you think that powdered dragon scales can help merfolk with their Ascension?"

Stormbringer blinked. "What?"

"We know that powered leviathan scales can be used to help merfolk with their Ascension. That makes sense since it was often said that the gods made the first merfolk with scales taken from the oldest of leviathans. But the Lord of the Tides was born of the union of a dragon and a leviathan. Therefore, the gap between dragons and leviathans cannot be that large. Otherwise, he would not have existed at all. It stands to reason, then, that it might be possible to use the scales of dragons of my lineage, who are the closest to leviathans, in a similar manner."

"…" Stormbringer stared and then burst out into laughter. "Hah! I will admit that I've never considered that. Tell me, have you already tried it?"

Fathombinder grimaced. "Only a handful of times. It… did not go well. However, I wonder if the results could be improved with the right knowledge and suitable alchemy."

"Then you will have to consult Doomwing. There are few who can match his knowledge of Ascension and none of them can match his mastery of alchemy."

"He will be speaking on the topic of alchemy. There is a promising young dragon amongst my followers." Fathombinder gestured. "The one riding on your granddaughter's back. Doomwing's mood always improves when he finds a suitable student. If all goes well, perhaps he will take her under his wing. If so, then I will be in a better position to ask for his assistance."

"Let me know how it goes," Stormbringer said. "If nothing else, watching the testing should be amusing."

"Of course, you would say that." Fathombinder shook his head. "The failures were most… unsettling. I would rather avoid a repeat of those debacles."

As they continued to fly toward the meeting, Fathombinder remembered the words his father had spoken to him Ages ago. He had been too young to fully grasp their significance then, but they had only grown wiser over the Ages.

Be like the waters of the world. No matter how the winds howl at the surface, the waters of the chasm do not stir. No matter how great the waves breaking upon the shore, the deeps are untroubled. His mind should be the same, able to think deeply and calmly, regardless of the petty squabbles and passing quarrels of each day. The winds could grind the mountains to dust, and still the oceans would remain. He should be the same.