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For all his life, Torrent spent most of his time living in the SandWing town of Legacy. It lay in the center of Pyrrhia, built by old veterans of the war who desired peace and unity long after its conclusion. Now, it was quite possibly the largest town on Pyrrhia, with dragons from all over settling there. Gone were the days where each tribe was isolated. They now worked together, like a spiraling web of beauty.
Torrent remembered growing up on the stories from Drifter, a SandWing general who lost both his stinger and his teeth after being tortured. He always avoided the old veteran, finding his lack of teeth disturbing, but now Torrent was older and wiser. Now, Torrent knew better.
How could anyone fight for so long? Was a question that echoed in Torrent’s mind for years. To hate for almost thirty years? It was unfathomable for him.
Though, he supposed, picking out the weeds in his father’s planter at the front of their house. I suppose that’s how it goes, living in a post-war era. I’ll never understand them.
His mother always had him do the chores around the house whenever Torrent was there. Both his parents worked long hours at their respective jobs, and since Torrent was always the one at home, he spent his time on chores.
He’d just gotten home after visiting Bonobo, one of his SandWing friends. Although he didn’t particularly want to weed—he’d rather be singing—might as well get it out of the way before his mother snapped at him.
“Torrent!” His mother’s voice pierced the air just as he was finishing up, and he tried not to wince. Calamity waltzed out of their house, a small hut on the edges of Legacy. Her star-studded wings gleamed in the light of the sun, a silver teardrop scale next to her golden eyes. Torrent made sure his skyfire was tucked on his necklace, before glancing up at his mother. She frowned at him, before leaning down to bump their snouts together. “Come inside.” She said gentler, ushering him beneath her wings and herding him inside. “It’s warm.”
We live in a desert. He wanted to scream, but went silent at her words. She always meant well. Even if she was… a little odd. Always so worried about his safety, always so concerned and hovering over him.
But he loved her.
So he made his way into their hut, humming a tune he’d been working on as he did so. Later, tucked in the secrecy of his room, he would work on a full tune. Never in front of his parents. It wasn’t something for their prying eyes to see.
Their hut opened into a large area, where the family typically ate their meals together. To Torrent’s surprise, his father wasn’t there alone. Normally, Caracal wouldn’t be back home until late in the evening after his shift. He worked as a healer in the middle of town, and Torrent almost never saw him during the day.
But there he sat, in the middle of their hut, chatting with a young MudWing. Their voices were hushed, as though speaking louder would cause the roof to cave in. It happened on more than one occasion, so Torrent couldn’t blame them.
As he pulled further into the house, Torrent soon realized his father was talking to Chestnut. The young MudWing often came over to hang out with the family, sitting down to have nice cups of coffee with Caracal. With a gentle smile, Torrent made his way over to his family, sitting down right next to Chestnut. The MudWing smiled at him, offering his half-drank cup of coffee sheepishly.
“Sorry we didn’t make any for you, Tor,” Caracal said, his voice gruff around the edges, but homely nonetheless. “Didn’t think you were going to be back so soon!”
Torrent only shrugged, sharing the last of Chestnut’s coffee with him. They smiled at each other, Chestnut’s cheeks beaming with pride. Torrent loved to take time and examine Chestnut’s features whenever they were up close: his big cheeks, the curve of his wings, the one chink in his right horn. Torrent loved to call him a dork, because of how big his smile always was.
His parents must have noticed the loving moment between them, because Caracal downed the last of his coffee and took it to the kitchen. He washed it in the sink, trotting back over to Calamity and resting his wing on her. Torrent glanced away in hypocritical embarrassment as his parents bumped their snouts together, a lingering depiction of love.
“We’re going to Locust’s bar,” Calamity announced. The air in the room went from loving to awkward and tense, as everyone realized what was happening. They were all giving each other time to process their feelings towards the letter. “She promised to make us a good drink tonight.”
Torrent nodded, watching his parents pack up and leave their hut. As the door closed right behind them, Torrent felt Chestnut nudge him with a wing. Torrent turned to him and smiled, leaning forward to rest their snouts together. Chestnut hummed a tune Torrent had composed, tapping a claw on the table as a beat.
With a saddened smile, Torrent turned to his love and rested his claw over his. Chestnut paused his humming when he saw the tears in Torrent’s eyes.
All the sadness—all the pain and uncertainty—came from a single letter that now lay in his parents’ bedroom. One he dared not to open ever again.
“Hey.” Chestnut’s gentle voice, one that sounded as warm as chocolate, shook Torrent out of his thoughts. “There’s no need to worry about that right now. I’m right here! We’re together, and that’s all that matters.”
Torrent wished he could have his friend’s optimism, but the looming threat of the SeaWings only mitigated it. He sucked in a breath, looking at Chestnut, and letting all the emotions he’d been feeling spill from his chest.
“I know it’s my duty and whatever,” he started, staring at the table’s patterns as if it held the secrets of the world. “But I don’t want to leave Legacy. It’s been my only home. Why am I expected to leave, to give it up, just because some oppressive old dragons from across the world say so?”
The contents of the letter, the one they all feared so much, echoed in their heads. It had ever since the day they’d read it all those months ago.
To the mixed-tribal family living on 202 Harbor Street, Legacy:
I hope your lives have been filled with wonder and joy, and your table has been bountiful. We have recently been made aware of the heritage of a young dragon living beneath your roof. A SeaWing, with peculiar markings on his wings.
These markings are of the royal family.
We shall keep this letter brief: eight years ago Prince Baltic and Princess Starfish lost their only egg in an attack by SkyWing rogues. We have scoured the earth for this egg, which we believed to be destroyed. But a recent scouting patrol in Legacy alerted us to the young SeaWing with royal markings, exactly the same age as the missing egg would have been.
In two months time, we shall be heading to Legacy. We wish to see our lost kin, to rekindle the flame of hope we once had. To bring our lost prince home.
Please prepare for our arrival.
– The Royal SeaWing Family
Chestnut was silent for a brief moment, looking quite thoughtful. Then, he lifted his head to look up at the ceiling of the hut. Even he looked sad and depressed, as though he was about to cry himself.
For us to both cry ourselves, Torrent thought, unable to hide a snicker. We’re a bit pathetic.
“I don’t want you to go,” Chestnut mumbled, lamely. “I know your parents don’t either. We all feel… broken and lost. I mean—I’m sure you feel that way, too—but we don’t want to lose you.” He turned his head, meeting Torrent’s gaze. “You’re our family . And I don’t want to give you up to some royals who never knew you.”
“I feel that way, too,” Torrent said, lowering his voice a little. “Don’t get me wrong I… I feel bad for Prince Baltic and Princess Starfish. To lose a dragonet? One you’ve been expecting for so long? I couldn’t imagine it. And then to find out that dragonet was actually alive? They must be overjoyed!” He almost flared his wings out, but kept them by his sides. “They’re my family too, but they don’t feel like it.”
Chestnut rested his head on the table, looking over at Torrent with big, puppy-dog-like eyes. Torrent rested his own head on the table right next to him, and the two shared a soft laugh, before their somber conversation continued.
“I’m just afraid I’ll lose you.”
Chestnut’s words sent a streak of warmth hurtling through Torrent’s chest. He couldn’t help but smile.
“I’m afraid I’ll lose you too,” Torrent said. “I don’t want to be a prince because you’ll be so far away. We’ll barely see each other–”
“That’s not why,” Chestnut said, cutting him off. “It’s because royalty… they don’t treat the rest of us kindly. They just want to rule, to have power and wealth. I’m worried that they’ll corrupt you. Or… or that you’ll be too nice for them and they’ll try to force you to become one of them. I’m worried that maybe you’ll see there’s nothing Legacy can offer you, and that you’ll turn your backs on us forever. But I’m also worried if you don’t go, you’ll be missing out on a wonderful experience, and a wonderful set of parents. But I also don’t want you to go because…”
He trailed off, folding his wings and wiping away his tears. Torrent grabbed a handkerchief from underneath the table, handing it to his friend and letting him compose himself before he said anything.
When Chestnut was able to speak again, Torrent gestured for him to go first. “I don’t want you to go because I think I’m falling in love with you. But we’re best friends, and it shouldn’t be happening, but I don’t want to lose you to some… some RainWing princess you might have to marry for diplomacy .” He spat the final word, staring squarely at the table in front of him.
His words sunk into Torrent’s mind, and he finally realized how much of an idiot he’d been. All those glances they’d given to each other, their nights sneaking out, the way they’d held each other… how had he not seen Chestnut’s devotion to him? How had he not recognized it for what it was?
Shuffling closer to his dearest friend, Torrent lifted one of Chestnut’s larger-than-average wings to rest over his shoulders. He then leaned forward, bumping Chestnut’s nose, but holding it closer just in case Chestnut got the wrong idea. The MudWing’s eyes opened wide, before he brought Torrent into a hug.
“I should have realized what you were feeling,” Torrent said, huddling against Chestnut’s chest. “Because it’s how I’ve felt, too. I love you, Chestnut. And I’m not going to marry some RainWing princess. If you want to, I…” he hesitated, feeling embarrassed. “I want to marry you.”
Chestnut brightened, like an IceWing moon globe in the darkness. “Really?”
“Really.”
Tears—this time, joyful ones—sprang from Chestnut’s eyes. He held Torrent close to him, as though letting go would see the SeaWing royal family whisking him off to their aquatic palace. Torrent almost would have complained about his lack of air, but Chestnut was so warm it hardly mattered.
“We’ll go to the SeaWing Kingdom, together,” Torrent told him, when he finally got his air back. “Just you and I. We’ll see what they have there. I can meet my parents. And if things don’t go that well then… then it’ll just be us again. Like usual.”
“And we’ll never be parted.”
“And I’ll be yours, forever.”