Chapter 102: Nereida’s Voyage
The wet sand felt strange beneath her new reptilian paw. The sand got into the cracks between the scales, and it itched tremendously. She tried not to concentrate on the alien feeling, but the more she tried the worse the itching became.
“You alright, love?” Aella’s soft voice asked. Nereida looked behind her. Her wife was still in the shallows, holding her boots in one hand. The egg was strapped to Aella’s chest.
“Fine,” she lied. “Just… focusing on walking. On my own,” she stressed, seeing her wife start to shift forward. She leaned on the cane, taking step after grueling, itchy step, until she got to a log where she could sit and rest. There was a thick blanket of moss on the log.
The beach they landed on was beautiful, covered in soft, if itchy, sand that sparkled slightly in the sunlight. There were trees here, bearing some kind of fruit that Nereida did not recognize. The fallen tree was in the shade, which was a blessing because the sun was particularly hot. The first full moon of summer was in less than two days, and the heat was monstrous. There was no breeze, so the air was thick and sticky.
Several of the crew had come to shore with them. They set about making a make-shift tent out of the reclaimed sail of one of the demon ships. They had food, fresh water, a cooking pot, everything they did not have during their first exile on an island where the egg had been laid. They also, unfortunately, had a dragon. The Dragon of Clouds simply watched them from his own shady rest area. He made no offer to help the crew, and the crew in turn were not eager to help him. He did, however, complain about the heat, constantly and loudly.
“Even your lads are better behaved,” one of the crew remarked to Nereida in a mean little whisper. She gave him a little smile.
“You only say that because you haven’t had your turn in the “arena” with them,” she replied back. He laughed. With Evander out of commission, Epelda had taken to training her brothers to fight. She taught them to play dirty, and would bring in different crew to test them against opponents of varying sizes. Most of the men they fought surrendered after a few minutes when it became clear the tiny terrors were going after the softest target on their bodies.
It felt good to joke. Aella came over, placing the egg next to her. The blue and silver shell was unchanged. Nereida had hoped the hatching would start soon. She was anxious to meet the little one inside. She was anxious to be off this little island, even though she had just arrived. She wanted to go back to the cabin and pull the sheets over her head and not have to think, or feel sand in between her scales or wonder why she had scales to begin with! Her breathing started coming faster, but before her panic could wash over her and drown her, Aella was at her side.
“Relax, love. We aren’t stranded here. They will be on the horizon, you’ll see them. Your brother has the boys.” Her voice was calm and low, Aella’s thin hand pressed on her back, grounding her as she listened to the roar of the waves. “I’m here, you’re safe. Breathe, Ner.”
It took a while, but her wife’s steady presence calmed her. She leaned into Aella, listening to her heartbeat. Nearby, the Dragon in Evander’s body yammered something, but Aella cut him off and told him to leave them be for now. Nereida stared out at the ocean, watching waves lap the sand, the roar gentle now. But she recalled, vaguely, the roar of the Ocean Dragon, and knew the gentleness was a lie. The Ocean would, did, kill without mercy. She had killed without mercy. The spiraling emotions threatened to drown her more, but Aella kept speaking, soft, beautiful tones that were home in all the ways that mattered. She reached up and took her wife’s hand.
“I love you,” she whispered to Aella.
“I love you too, Ner. Don’t drown in your thoughts, yeah? Stay with us?” Nereida nodded, not trusting her voice, and instead leaned down to pick up the egg. She couldn’t lose herself like that and still mother an infant. This baby, human OR dragon, would need constant care. She could not let the Ocean wash her away again.
The crew was gone by sunset. The rowboats returned to the ship. Between the ship and their island, Kana tended to her husband beneath the waves. She offered to carry messages or to come when the baby had been born, if it turned out to be human and not dragon. With fewer people, the waves seemed louder, and so Nereida began telling tales to the little egg. Aella began making a fire, humming to herself as she did so. It was much easier to get a fire going with the proper tools, and soon the fire was dancing on the beach.
“I’ll cook some food,” Aella called. “Both of you want some?”
“Do you have any meat? Fish?” the Dragon asked. Aella pawed through their supplies.
“None. Just beans, some carrots and potatoes.” The sound of disgust that came from Evander’s mouth better suited a toddler, and Nereida found the ghost of a smile. The Dragons, for all their power, were such temperamental creatures. She looked down at the egg in her arms.
“You, darling, will learn how to control your feelings,” she whispered. “You can be a toddler for a while, but not at five hundred, you hear me?” She let out a long, slow breath. “Come soon, alright?”
By moonrise, Nereida and Aella had eaten, and the Dragon had stalked into the bit of brush to see if there were animals on the small island. It was quiet, being just the two of them. Aella leaned in to her, her touch gentle. Carefully, Aella touched Nereida’s reptilian leg, but the siren jerked away. She nearly lost her balance on the log with the sharp movement.
“Tomorrow, love, you need to practice walking while we have solid ground.” Aella’s tone was soft but also firm. Nereida turned to her wife, ready to argue, but Aella shook her head. “I won’t hear it love. Our children need you to try.”
“Low blow,” she hissed, starting to turn away. But Aella touched her shoulder lightly.
“I will be beside you, love. You don’t have to do it alone. But you do have to do it.” Nereida scowled at her wife, wanting to argue but finding no solid rebuttal. After a moment, she lowered her eyes to their egg, and thought about her sons, about Epelda. Epelda, who she still hadn’t talked to since revealing Egaz’s nature. Alejo, who didn’t know his brother could control shadows. Egaz, who must feel frightened after hearing that his mother turned into a dragon.
They sat in silence, listening to the chirping bugs and the soft waves.
“I’ll try,” Nereida said at last. She wanted to say something profound, something good, but all she could manage was “thank you, love.” Aella didn’t answer, just reached down to take her one free hand as they stared up at the sky. “Will she hatch tonight, Aella?”
“Not until the full moon is in the sky,” Aella replied distractedly. Her eyes bulged as she spoke, as if she had not planned the words.
“Thank you, Moon,” Nereida whispered. She leaned into her wife and kissed her cheek chastely. Part of her wanted more, remembering the things they had done the last time they had been alone on a beach. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she leaned in to whisper something seductive to her wife, when the Great Dragon came crashing back through the brush, making a ruckus as he hissed to himself. Heat still in her cheeks, Nereida sat up and sighed.
“There’s still beans in the pot,” Aella called helpfully. The Dragon made a rude gesture with his hands, and Aella began to chuckle softly.
The next day crawled by. Aella was true to her word, and made Nereida get up and practice on the new leg. She fell more often than she cared to admit, bruising her ego as well as her behind. The Dragon of Clouds watched from a distance, but never belittled her. The loose sand was harder to walk on than the packed earth where the trees grew, but her sharper claws caught tree roots. Her good leg hurt from favouring it by the end of the day. She was battered, exhausted and frustrated. They ate in silence, the frustration becoming too much by lunch. But Aella did not let her quit, and pushed her all day, through to sunset, despite Nereida’s tears on more than a few occasions.
Eventually, the sun began to drop below the horizon. Aella convinced Nereida to sit in the water, letting the waves sooth her and take pressure off her exhausted legs. Nereida stripped down to her shift and stepped in the ocean. The water was warm, the scent of the sea welcoming. She watched fish play in the shallows, their colourful fins catching the light. It was beautiful. She felt tears again, and let them fall, letting the ocean have them. She sat in the water and stayed there, taking in the beauty and finding her center, until the sun’s light had disappeared and the full moon rose in the distance.
Aella was soon at her side, holding their egg. The colour had drained from the shell. Aella had also stripped down to her shift. Her legs were paler than the rest of her, since they were always covered, and Nereida found her gaze lingering on her wife’s shapely, still human legs.
“The Cloudy One,” Aella said, motioning back to the dragon in Evander, who was perched on a log. “Says that it's almost time.” Nereida reached up and touched the shell.
“Will it hurt her to put the egg in the water?” Nereida asked her wife, slightly hoping that the Moon would answer through her. “She should know all her parents at birth.” Aella’s smile was gentle.
“I think it will be fine, love. She,” Aella looked up at the moon in the sky and then back down again. “She seems happy enough with that suggestion.”
The first crack came shortly thereafter, and Nereida nearly jumped out of her skin. A small piece of eggshell fell free. The egg rocked and shook in her lap, and it took all of Nereida’s self control to not try and help it along. The Cloud Dragon had been very firm in his explanation. The baby had to get out on her own, or they risked hurting her. Nereida’s farm had chickens, and she knew the chicks could take hours to properly break free from their eggs, and so she was prepared when the pace of the hatching slowed. Aella, however, grew more and more impatient. She paced about on the sand, came back to check on both Nereida and the egg, then went back to pacing.
“Aella!” Nereida snapped after nearly four hours of her wife’s anxious pacing. The Admiral looked up at her with fear. Nereida pinched the bridge of her nose. “Birth takes time, love. Come and sit with me. Please.” Sheepishly, Aella returned to her side.
The moon was at its peak when a little snout finally poked through the egg shell. A tiny dragon, smaller than a newborn infant, slithered out of the shell. She had beautiful silver and blue scales, a tail as long as she was and tiny, fragile wings that were stuck to her back. Her eyes were too large for her little head, forward-facing but closed and covered with something sticky. She had the most un-dragon-like shock of black hair on her head. Nereida picked up the helpless little thing, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for the tiny creature that might have been her feelings, or may have belonged to the Ocean.
“She’s beautiful,” Aella whispered reverently. Nereida chuckled quietly to herself. The squirming, sticky lizard was not what most people associated with beauty. The dragon’s serpentine tongue darted out of her open mouth, and the tiny creature began to nuzzle Nereida.
“Hello, my wee girl,” Nereida gently stroked the slick scales, wiping away some of the egg fluid. “What shall we call you?”
“My mother was called Damara,” Aella managed, her voice choked with unspent tears. “Could we… could we call her that?” She sounded tentative. Nereida smiled, squeezing her wife’s hand.
“Damara Sophina, after both our mothers?”
“Perfection,” Aella said, leaning in to kiss her. She leaned in to kiss the scaly little dragon as well. “Damara Sophina D’Igna, I name you.” The dragon began to cry at that, a good, strong cry that Nereida knew all too well. This was the sound of a hungry infant. The sound was so very human that for a moment, Nereida forgot she was holding a dragon.
“I am glad to see she hatched True, and not a Scion,” said a low, rumbling voice. Clouds were rolling in over them, clouds that formed the shape of a massive dragon. Nereida looked back and saw that Evander was lying down in the sand, still as a statue. “Still, she must have a chance to grow. Will you accept my aid, Scions of Moon and Ocean?” The air was heavy with dampness. Nereida looked at her wife, and Aella gave a slow nod, though she moved to put her arm around Nereida.
“We accept,” the siren declared.
“Smart girl.” The sound of rain hitting the ocean was suddenly overwhelming, though Nereida and Aella remained untouched. The rain only fell on the crying, angry baby dragon and then into the sea. “Damara Sophina D’Igna, I bind your draconic form until you reach maturity. I bind you to human form, made of your human mothers.” There was a rolling thunder, and the rain began to pour in earnest, so hard Nereida could not see her wife or even the infant dragon in her arms. She tried to shield the tiny thing from the rain, but could not. She felt a strong pinching sensation on her arm, but it was over quickly.
And in just a few moments, the rain cleared, the sky was cloudless, and the Great Dragon was gone. In Nereida’s arms was a human infant, crying in discomfort and hunger. She was small and pale, with the same shock of hair. Her toes were webbed, but that was the only outward sign that the baby had been anything other than an infant.
“Is she hurt?” Aella asked anxiously.
“No love,” Nereida replied, sliding the wet, cold infant into her wife’s arms. “Take her to the fire, wrap her in something dry. I’ll call to Kana, and then see to Evander. Damara will be just fine. She’s just cold and hungry.”
Aella walked back toward their tent, holding the baby close, a look of stunned joy on her face. Nereida had rarely seen her wife with that much joy, and she found herself smiling too. Perhaps things were going to go their way.