I walk the maze of moments
but everywhere I turn to
begins a new beginning
but never finds a finish
I walk to the horizon
and there I find another
it all seems so surprising
and then I find that I know( ) o ( ) o ( )
"Wethyst and Ethyst. All right, I'll warn you ahead of time; don't be offended when I get you mixed up."
Because Faranth knows she's going to, the big blue added, light baritone laughing. The girl slapped the water in mock annoyance, whooshing a big wave up over him, and he splashed her back, whuffing bubbles from his nose. Curious, Wethyst swam closer, intrigued by this human who rode a dragon with wings and fins and didn't seem to care that her clothes were now dripping, even though evening was coming on fast and the water was losing the heat of the day. She hadn't realized that anything with two-legs and no fins could be so comfortable in the ocean, but this girl seemed to be; she'd walked right in, her blue waving in behing her, not put off by the cold or the multitude of dragonlings who were taking up most of the cove with an elaborate game of underwater tag.
The human was treading water now, one arm over her blue's side, water dripping lazily from the short dark spikes her wet hair clumped into, making delicate silver ripples washed away by the waves. "Wethyst," she repeated, and her eyes followed the frolicking hatchlings. "Ethyst. Which are they, Zyth-a-love?"
He shrugged a pale shoulder, careful not to dislodge her. I don't know. They don't stay still long enough for me to read them, and they all rhyme anyway. What say we just pick two and take them back to Abri?
"We can't do that," the girl rebuked, laughing, and he snorted, half-serious, half-amused.
I don't see why not. Who else is going to know the difference?
In the round of splashing that followed, Wethyst swam up, leaping from the water in a smooth arch and contributing a splash of her own. I'm Wethyst, she volunteered. And we don't all rhyme, you know - we're just all '-thyst'... I'm not sure why.
That's bad enough, the blue insisted; he'd given her an appraising look, but didn't seem too surprised at her appearance. Nice to meet you, Wethyst. I'm Zyth, and Zekaela's my rider. You wouldn't know which is Ethyst, would you?
She tilted her head, considering, and tried to remember back to her hatching; it hadn't been that long, really, but her entire clutch had hatched and announced themselves in a matter of minutes, and with twenty-two hatchlings, things had gotten rather hectic. And she'd been hungry, too; her attention had been on other things.
I'm not sure, she confessed, smiling wrily. I guess you're right, Zyth; it is confusing. But I think... I think that's Ethyst, over there.
"The aqua?" Zekaela asked, following Wethyst's gaze. Abruptly, the dragonling who they'd been watching disappeared underwater; Zekaela blinked, frowning, and tried to ascertain which way it had gone, without success.
Something tugged at Wethyst's mind; Watch out... she began, not sure what prompted the caution. The thought was never finished; in that moment, the water erupted mere inches before her. In the shower of silvery droplets that cascaded down over them, a shining body became visible.
Turquoise, not aqua, the young male corrected smugly.
Zekaela shook her head like a dog, water flying from her hair, and tried, unsuccessfully, to look annoyed. "You're Ethyst, I take it?"
Turquoise Ethyst, the dragonling agreed proudly, giving her a look so pointed that Wethyst laughed. He turned on her, reproachful. And why'd you warn her? You nearly spoiled it.
Sorry, Wethyst smiled, but she wasn't, really. And Zyth added peaceably, Ze' didn't mean to insult you - but we've never seen a turquoise sea dragon before. You're one of the first, I think.
"You'll be the first male, too," Zekaela mused. "Zyth not included - he's not a proper sea dragon." The pale blue gave her a look of mock-offence, and she grinned, gesturing to his wide dark wings. "I didn't mean it like that, dear heart, but you do fly - none of the Alskyrian sea dragons do that."
Ethyst looked mollified; Wethyst could tell that the thought of holding two 'First' titles pleased him. Then, just as quickly, his suspicious nature reasserted itself. The first where? he demanded, watching the bonded pair untrustingly. Wethyst, too, turned to them with interest; though Zyth had implied that she'd be going somewhere with them, he hadn't mentioned where.
Abri, the blue responded. The haven.
"If you're willing," Zekaela qualified, quickly. "But the Coveleaders have asked those dragon-homes with bodies of water whether they would be interesting in providing homes for some of your clutch; the Nidus is much bigger than your Cove, and there's a large ocean bay. We've dragons of your world, too: Saryiss with Zulefa, and Giyatuss."
Another world? Startled, Wethyst ceased her almost unthinking paddling, let the waves carry her back. She hadn't known that there were worlds beyond Alskyr, and yet there must be; there'd never been one like Zyth hatched on her own world...
Maybe the thought would have been frightening were it not so intriguing.
Let's go, she urged Ethyst, unsure what had brought on this sudden, spontaneous conviction. A whole new world...
The turquoise gave her a slightly superior look, sighing. You're far too romantic. But he turned to the far-larger blue and his rider and announced, speaking for them both: We'll go.
Of course.
( ) o ( ) o ( )
The moon upon the ocean
is swept around in motion
but without ever knowing
the reason for its flowing
in motion on the ocean
the moon still keeps on moving
the waves still keep on waving
and I still keep on goingYou go there, you're gone forever
I go there, I'll lose my way
If we stay here, we're not together
Anywhere is...I wonder if the stars sign
the life that is to be mine
and would they let their light shine
enough for me to follow
I look up to the heavens
but night has clouded over
no spark of constellation
no Vela no Orion( ) o ( ) o ( )
They'd been at Abri for almost a year, now, Wethyst mused, and yet she felt as if she didn't yet know the Nidus as well as she had the Cove, though she'd spent little more than a week of her life there.
Abri was just so different... Even if she didn't consider the island most considered Abri, even if she put aside, for the moment, the multitude of winged dragons in every color and form imaginable...
Even then.
The ocean that surrounded Abri was warmer than the seas of the Cove, constantly heated by the tropic sun, still lingeringly warm even though night had fallen hours previously. When she rose from the water, head and shoulders emerging from the waves, a faint breeze brushed past her, cool against water-slick scales. She arched her back in pleasure, sending undulating waves down her serpentine body, and flipped lazily onto her back to look up, fins fanned around her.
The largest of the moons was huge tonight, a silvery-white orb hung against a sky darker blue than the deepest waters. Only one other was visible tonight; a smaller, harvest-gold luminescence that crept up from the horizon to join the larger one. Difficult to know for certain, but Wethyst suspected that the number of moons changed, and often; there'd been a multitude of smaller, fast-moving spheres, with the large moon out of sight. And they lacked any semblence of phases, which was even stranger. The rising moon cast a long pathway of light across the ocean that seemed to stretch to forever, rippling and shifting and cutting through the reflected stars that didn't quite mirror the sparks of light that they mimicked. The stars weren't quite right, either; they came so close to looking like the constellations she vaguely remembered as belonging to Alskyr, but they were slightly, subtly different... and she thought that others of the star-groups might have been stolen from other worlds... almost. Disconcerting if she pondered it too long.
So don't.
Startled by the intrusion, she ducked underwater, curling and turning gracefully until she could emerge again with her head above the water. She resurfaced to see a blue-green form made silvery by water and moonlight, streamlined and strong and beautiful, and met Ethyst's cool, ironical eyes. He chuckled quietly at her, and she tossed her head and tried not to care.
Ah yes; Ethyst, the one thing that hadn't changed at all since they'd left the Cove; just as suspicious, blunt, down-to-earth and digusted with her. He gave her a longer look, withdrawing slightly in a wavering of fins, and she winced. Oh, yes, and so close to reading minds - hers, at least - that it was almost scary.
I'm blunt? he demanded, frowning at her. What does that make you, dreamer? Oh, right, I'm sorry - I'm the cold, unfeeling cynic, not even a proper dragon, maybe. It doesn't matter what you say to me.
She stared, shocked, horrified that she'd hurt him, until he inserted an image of a monster with turquoise scales and horns into her mind, such a grotesque exaggeration of what she'd been thinking that it was almost funny. Maybe she'd been wrong; he had changed. He'd developed a sense of humor, for one thing, albeit a warped and often sarcastic one.
I suppose I'll have to take that as all the praise I can get, he commented, drily, and she realized, with a start, that he was teasing her.
I was wrong, she admitted, shrugging ruefully. I'm sorry, Ethyst. And then, with a sudden smile: Forget that. It's beautiful, tonight; I think I could swim forever and never tire. Let's race! A strong flick of her fins carried her away, and she accelerated quickly, cutting through the waves in a hurried frenzy, racing the waves and the night.
The burst of energy that had taken her slipped away as suddenly as it had came, and she slowed, stopped, and let the waves carry her, exhausted. A wave of one fin turned her in a slow circle, back towards the area from whence she'd come. She'd gone so far that island Abri was almost out of sight.
A shimmering streak just below the surface of the water, and Ethyst surfaced and arched in a graceful, unhurried leap, shedding water like light. He was breathing easily; he hadn't raced in pursuit of her, but opted for a near-effortless stroke that carried him like wind over the water, leaving barely a sign of his passage. She envied him his grace.
You're insane, he informed her, green eyes bright with an emotion she couldn't name. Absolutely crazy. And you're not going to make it back to the bay, you know.
Wethyst shrugged, laughingly breathless. Who would want to? I don't want to go back, now. You know, I think this ocean goes on forever...
Not forever, he contradicted. But it merges into other worlds... You can reach any world from here, anywhere. I've been talking to the Nightrider, the one who sees color; she told me.
Well! That was unexpected, especially from Ethyst. She gave him a look that was bemused, curious, considering, and he chuckled, pleased. Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought.
Maybe, she conceded. I don't know what I think, tonight. And then, spontaneously but completely earnest: Oh, Ethyst, let's go there.
Where? he asked, and he sounded genuinely questioning, not scornful. She shook her head, unknowing, uncaring.
Anywhere...
All right, he agreed, surprisingly. And with a sudden change that left her staring: But I'll be there, first!
He was probably right, she realized, as she leapt after his already receding form, delighted, plunging into the night.
Anywhere is...
( ) o ( ) o ( )
To leave the thread of all time
and let it make a dark line
in hopes that I can still find
the way back to the moment
I took the turn and turned to
begin a new beginning
still looking for the answer
I cannot find the finish
It's either this or that way
it's one way or the other
it should be one direction
it could be on reflection
the turn I have just taken
the turn that I was making
I might be just beginning
I might be near the end.( ) o ( ) o ( )
Where are we? Wethyst wondered, eyes locked on the sandy-beached island they were quickly approaching. Ethyst tossed his head, uncaring.
Does it matter? A glimmer of amusement twitched his lips. It's funny - we swam to forever and found an island like the one we left. With what could pass for seadragons, even. What did you expect to find?
She splashed him half-heartedly, causing a wave of water to wash over his body, and turned away so he couldn't see the smile that was threatening to escape. Must you always be right? She hadn't known what she'd been expecting, exactly, but his self-assurance annoyed her.
Of course, he agreed, amused, but stopped her with a fin as she turned away. What, you want to go back as soon as we've got here? Too bad; this was your idea, and we're going to see what's here. And you - he forced her to turn towards him - will enjoy it if I have to make you.
He was smiling.
Fine, she agreed; too hard to argue with Ethyst. He gave her a broad, triumphant grin, and she tossed her head, but grudgingly gave him a mental point.
He laughed, pleased.
The waves carried them in.
( ) o ( ) o ( )
They do look like seadragons, she mused, staring in what she hoped was not too obvious a fashion at the female who guarded a small clutch on the beach. And they lay eggs.
So it would seem, Ethyst agreed, also watching. And then he lurched forward with a start, dragging himself from the shallows up onto the sand. Hatching eggs! Come!
He didn't have to tell her; though her own T-powers were not as strong, she too felt the wave of urgency that rose and broke against them, the need to be there. Shouldn't we ask her permission? she queried worriedly, gesturing at the orange clutchmother, but already pulling herself onto the sand.
She wants us here! he called back, nearly at the place where the eggs were nestled, and she followed him and didn't argue any further.
They reached the now-shuddering eggs just as the first cracked convulsively, and Ethyst moved instinctively to the little hatchling that spilled out, a brilliant red. He's Vuno, he announced, wonderingly, to Wethyst.
But she scarcely heard him; she'd found her own distraction in a gorgeous indigo hatchling who looked to her with dark, already-intelligent eyes full of love. Noctua, she realized, with a rush of happiness, and the youngling ducked her head in graceful acknowledgement.
And Dago! The exclamation was followed by an imperious nudge for attention; she turned to see a yellow male who grinned happily at her, pleased that she was paying attention to him. You couldn't forget me, could you?
You both want me? Wethyst asked, looking between them in amazement. You don't mind sharing?
I don't think I have a choice, Noctua pointed out, but her voice was amused. Dago gave her a cheeky grin.
Of course you don't. She's both of ours!
And Wethyst realized that she was perfectly happy with that.
( ) o ( ) o ( )
( ) o ( ) o ( )
( ) o ( ) o ( )
( ) o ( ) o ( )
Lyrics to "Anywhere Is..." are Enya's.
