Chapter Text
Windchill
The rickety elevator slowly rose up to the only entrance of the ship. Windchill wrapped their tail around their leg nervously. They hated being in such a small space. They’re a WindWing Heir, for stars sakes; they need to be, you know, in the sky! With the wind! The small TV flickered to life, catching their attention. A corny, non-copyrighted song played in the background of the video as random clips of dragons working in offices and doing…eugh…minimum wage jobs. “Fun! Engagement! Fun-gagement!” The voiceover rang in an annoyingly cheerful tone, reminding them of the tone their servants used around them. A young dragon walked on to the set, clearly green-screened in. They were most likely a SkyWing-SilkWing hybrid, with downward curved horns (a rarity in Pantala), both of the species’ wings, and a large stripe running down their back and face. “Hi! My name is Orange-tip! Here at MIRA, we care about your productivity and workplace environment! You’ve been tasked with delivering Pantala’s Aorxite to Savior where it will be used as fuel.” They gestured to an image of a dark grey, coal-looking rock that occasionally clipped over their bright green eyes. “Now’s a great time to pause the video and introduce yourself to anyone else in the room!”
The video paused as the dragon next to them clicked a button on the remote. They smiled at them cheerfully and flared out their wings ever so slightly. “Hi! My name’s Ghostberry!” Ghostberry was a LeafWing-NightWing hybrid, by the look of it, with a small teardrop scale behind the eyes that signaled mind-reading abilities. “Your name’s Windchill, right?” Windchill blinked and backed away nervously. They seemed to recognize their panic and quickly chuckled. “Don’t worry, I only have dragonspeak, I can’t actually read your mind. I just recognized you from TV. You’re the dragonet of Prince Jingle and Princess Stratus, I remember?” Windchill internally sighed in relief and nodded. “Yep! Heir Windchill, that’s the name!” Ghostberry’s tail wagged behind them happily. “Wow! I’ve heard of you and Princess Hailstorm a lot! Must be so cool, being part of two royal families!” They flinched slightly at the mention of their sister, but quickly shut down their emotions. “It is pretty great!” Ghostberry leaned forward slightly in their seat. “So, how’d you get here?”
Windchill perked up, happy to change the conversation. “Oh, I was just doing my job, signing papers, caring for the palace, the usual, when a dragon from MIRA came in and offered me a position on this ship to be a royal ambassador, since I’m familiar with the port we’re docking at!” They turned to Ghostberry and tilted their head. “What’s your story?” Ghostberry grinned. “I’m an unpaid intern!” Windchill waited for more information. “And?” “I lived on an otherworm farm in the Poison Jungle!” They nodded slowly, wondering what the fuck an otherworm was and whether or not they wanted to find out. They both silently agreed that their greetings were over and Ghostberry unpaused the video.
An hour later…
After what felt like an eternity of DR rules being listed off by Orange-tip, the elevator finally stopped and attached itself to the entrance of the ship. “And finally, to give you a tour of MIRA’s largest, most luxurious, most technologically advanced seafaring ship Pantala has to offer, I want to introduce you to-“ they paused, tossing a small ball into the air just as the video cut off and the steam from the door mechanism filled the room, which Windchill silently willed to dissipate with their stormspeak. When it did, Orange-tip was standing in the entrance holding the same bright red ball. “ME! But now I’m real!” They gestured to the ship they were currently docked at. “Welcome to The Skeld! We’re so happy to have you among us! Or was it amongst us? I can never remember the difference!”