Moon led the way into the tunnel, her dark scales almost blending into the shadows. I
followed, my talons making soft scrapes against the rough stone floor. The rhythmic thump-
thump from deep within the mountain seemed to fade slightly here, muffled by the sheer
density of rock, but it was still a faint, persistent pulse beneath my feet. It was like the
mountain itself was a sleeping beast, and I was walking on its chest.
The tunnel opened into a cavern that was surprisingly spacious, though not as grand as the
main hall. It was roughly circular, with several smaller alcoves carved into the walls,
presumably for sleeping. A small, clear pool of water shimmered in the center, reflecting the
soft glow of moss-covered rocks and a few strategically placed fire-globes. The air was
cooler here, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and something vaguely sweet, like
blooming night-flowers.
And then there were the dragons.
Five of them, already settled in various states of repose or restless energy. My new winglet.
The legendary Jade Winglet. I felt a familiar tightening in my chest, a primal instinct to
brace for impact. This was it. The proving ground.
A brightly colored RainWing, whose scales were currently a dizzying swirl of pink, yellow,
and lime green, bounced on her talons near the water. Her wings, usually folded neatly,
twitched with an almost unbearable excitement. Kinkajou, I remembered from the scrolls.
Her eyes, wide and sparkling, immediately latched onto me.
Beside her, a lean SandWing with intelligent, crinkled eyes and a perpetually amused
expression was polishing his claws with a small, smooth stone. Qibli. He looked up, a wry
smile playing on his snout, and gave me a slow, assessing once-over. His tail barb, unlike
mine, was relaxed, almost lazy, but I knew better than to mistake that for carelessness.
Across the cave, an IceWing sat stiffly, his pale blue-white scales gleaming under the fire-
globes. His wings were folded so tightly they looked carved from ice, and his snout was
wrinkled in an expression of disdain that seemed permanently etched there. Winter. He
barely spared me a glance, preferring to stare at the opposite wall as if it held all the
answers to the universe, or at least a more interesting SandWing.
Near the back, partially obscured by a jutting rock formation, a SeaWing was meticulously
arranging a pile of seashells. He was larger than the others, with a quiet, almost shy
demeanor. Turtle. His bioluminescent scales pulsed a soft, calming green, and he looked
up, offering a small, hesitant smile before quickly returning his attention to his shells.
Moon, who had stopped beside me, cleared her throat softly. "Everyone, this is Cactus. He's
our new winglet-mate." She gestured vaguely in my direction, then to the others. "Cactus,
this is Kinkajou, Qibli, Winter, and Turtle." Kinkajou practically exploded forward, her scales shifting to an even brighter, more
welcoming yellow. "HI CACTUS! Oh my goodness, another SandWing! This is going to be SO
much fun! Are you excited? I'm excited! Are your scales always that color? They're like...
really pretty sand!" She zipped around me, her snout practically brushing my shoulder,
before darting back to her spot.
I blinked, taken aback by the sheer volume of her enthusiasm. I hadn't encountered a
dragon quite so... effervescent before. My tail barb gave an involuntary twitch, a tiny,
almost imperceptible movement that only another SandWing would notice.
Qibli chuckled, a low, dry sound. "Easy there, Kinkajou. You'll scare him away before he
even picks a sleeping spot." He pushed himself up, stretching languidly. "Welcome to the
Jade Cave, Cactus. Don't mind Kinkajou, she's just excited to have another dragon to
interrogate. We've been a bit short on new blood lately."
He walked closer, his gaze sharp and curious, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
"SandWing, huh? I don't think we've had one of those in the Jade Winglet for a while. What
brings you to the illustrious halls of Jade Mountain? Escaping a particularly dull oasis? Or
perhaps a very exciting one?"
I met his gaze steadily. "The scroll," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "And a desire
for... education."
Winter snorted from his corner. "'Education,'" he muttered, loud enough for everyone to
hear. "As if any SandWing ever cared about anything but fighting and treasure. You're
probably just here to cause trouble, like all the rest of your tribe."
My scales bristled, a low growl rumbling in my chest before I could stop it. The scar over my
eye felt like it was burning. All the rest of your tribe. The words hit a raw nerve, bringing
with them the phantom scent of smoke and blood. I clenched my talons, digging them into
the stone floor. The faint thump-thump beneath me seemed to intensify, as if echoing my
own rising anger.
"Winter!" Moon hissed, her silver teardrop scales flashing. "That's enough!"
"What?" Winter snapped, finally looking at us, his blue eyes blazing. "It's true! You can't
trust a SandWing. They're all the same. Backstabbing, greedy, and always looking for a
fight."
"And IceWings are all arrogant, frosty lumps of rock who think they're better than everyone
else," I retorted, my voice dangerously quiet. My tail barb was now fully raised, the
venomous tip glinting in the firelight. "Care to test that theory, IceWing?"
For a moment, the air in the cave crackled with tension. Kinkajou had gone completely still,
her scales a nervous, mottled grey-brown. Qibli had stopped smiling, his eyes narrowed,
watching us both like a hawk. Turtle had shrunk even further behind his pile of shells. Moon stepped forward, placing herself subtly between Winter and me. "Enough! Both of
you! We're supposed to be a winglet. We're supposed to be learning to get along. This isn't
the war anymore."
Winter glared at me, then at Moon, before turning his head away with a huff. "Fine," he
grumbled. "But don't expect me to trust him."
I didn't reply, but my tail barb slowly lowered. It wasn't worth it. Not yet. I had come here
for a reason, and it wasn't to get into a brawl on my first day.
Qibli, ever the diplomat, clapped his talons together. "Alright, alright, truce declared. For
now. Cactus, there are a few empty alcoves. Pick one that suits your discerning SandWing
tastes. And try not to accidentally sting anyone with that impressive tail of yours."
I ignored his jab, walking past Moon and toward the alcoves. I chose one farthest from
Winter, a small, dark nook that offered a good view of the entire cave without being too
exposed. As I settled down, the stone beneath me felt cool and solid. The thump-thump
was still there, a low, steady rhythm that seemed to mock the superficial squabbles of the
dragons above. It was a reminder that there were deeper, older things at play here than
petty tribal rivalries.
I glanced at Moon. She was watching me again, her expression unreadable. For a fleeting
moment, I felt that strange feather-light touch inside my mind, a brief, inquisitive probe. I
stiffened, but it vanished as quickly as it came. Was she... reading my thoughts? No, that
was impossible. Only NightWings with powers could do that, and they were rare. Besides, I
had learned long ago to keep my thoughts locked down, a fortress against intrusion.
I leaned back against the cold stone, closing my eyes. The tension in the cave was palpable,
a thick, uncomfortable blanket. But beneath it, beneath the chatter and the snorts and the
nervous scale-shifting, was that other rhythm. The mountain's rhythm. And I had a feeling it
was going to be far more interesting than any dragonet drama. Far more dangerous, too. I
just had to figure out what it was trying to tell me.