Here Be Dragons: Book 1 of the Emergence Series

Pryce woke up and rubbed his eyes, then glanced at the two sleeping dragons. One, actually; Celeste was eyeing him while she laid beneath Fathom’s wing. He waved, and Celeste twitched her spines in reply. He wasn’t sure if she was returning the gesture or was simply annoyed at being unable to respond, so he decided to assume it was the former.

Celeste watched Pryce eat his canned breakfast with a rather attentive air. Understandable, since she had never seen manufactured metal cans before. A few minutes later she shut her eyes, either bored or drowsy, and returned to sleep.

Pryce scribbled in his notebook, planning the day’s events as he waited for the two to wake up. When that task was done, he preoccupied himself by observing and taking note of the local flora and fauna, though he was careful not to stray more than a few meters from the cave entrance.

Fathom awoke about an hour later. He turned his head to peer at his now-sleeping daughter, his eyes brimming with something between nostalgia and melancholy. “She really has grown,” he whispered, a comment that didn’t seem to expect a reply; not that Pryce had any to give.

Celeste began to stir from the noise, and Fathom pulled his wing back, stretching a little as he stood up. «Did you sleep well?» Fathom asked.

«Yes,» she said, ducking her head as she fidgeted a little. «I did not mean to fall asleep. I was going to ask if you wanted to go hunting, but then I felt so tired, and…» she trailed off apologetically.

«You do not need to apologize, I had forgotten how warm it is to sleep next to someone,» Fathom said, looking quite happy. “We can go hunting now, if you would like,» he offered, when Celeste only looked uncomfortably embarrassed.

“Alright, let’s go talk to Ghorrah and Jooral after you get some food to eat. I should probably explain to them how we know when the other humans are coming,” Pryce said, changing the topic of conversation.

Given how independent dragons seemed to be, he wouldn’t have found it surprising if it was considered a childish thing for an adult to sleep beneath their parent’s wing.

“So, that’s how the radio works. Basically, it uses light that we can’t see to send and receive messages.” The morning had been filled with many tangents and explanations, but with Fathom’s help he finally finished explaining how a radio worked. Pryce hadn’t quite expected talking to be the reason why he would need all of the water bottles he brought, but he was glad that he came prepared.

«It is difficult to believe in this ‘light we cannot see’,» Ghorrah huffed with a skeptical air.

«That does explain why I have seen some animals walk into raptors, even if we can see them,» Jooral pondered aloud. «All this time I just thought they were just stupid,» she said frankly.

«Wait, is this why we look different in the photographs?» Celeste asked. «It makes sense that humans would make photographs that only use the types of light that they can see.»

Fathom paused briefly in his translation, realizing he had forgotten to ask Pryce about this oddity. "Why don't we have patterns in the photographs?"

“You have patterns?” Pryce exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I thought you could see them, and I didn’t have the words to ask why my markings weren’t in the photograph back then, and when I did know enough words I wanted to ask about other things,” Fathom explained, sounding a little defensive.

“Well, what do they look like?” Pryce asked, gesturing impatiently.

“I don’t know; they look like markings,” Fathom grumbled.

«What is he asking about?» Jooral asked curiously.

«He’s asking what our markings look like, he can’t see them,» Fathom explained.

Jooral hummed in thought, then abruptly stood up to return to her cave.

“Where’s she going?” Pryce asked, to which Fathom could only shrug.

«She is retrieving something,» Ghorrah said, though she did not elaborate further.

«Wait, if he cannot see our markings, then does he see us as we appear in the photographs?» Celeste asked, clearly eager to confirm her hypothesis.

“I think so?” Pryce said, unsure if the photographs captured UV and IR light. “I see you are dark blue, Fathom is light blue, while Ghorrah and Jooral are grey, but that’s about it.”

“We sound so boring when you describe it like that,” Fathom grumbled.

“Dragons are still much more beautiful than other animals,” Pryce pointed out.

“Yes, but you’re not seeing everything,” Fathom sighed. “Dragons without patterns are like crystals that do not shine.”

“...Now you’re making me feel like I’m missing out.”

Jooral re-emerged less than a minute later, hobbling as she carried something in one of her foreclaws. Interestingly, she was walking using two legs, her left arm, and the ‘palm’ of her unbroken right wing, though she didn’t seem to be putting much weight on it.

«Oh, this is a good one,» Celeste said. All three dragons looked on appreciatively – especially Fathom, who had never seen this piece before – as Jooral set down a two meter-long wood carving of a dragon curled protectively over a nest. The statue was notably painted in crimson red pigment, but more interesting were the spiraling swirls depicted by finely ground fragments of nacre.

“This is an amazing carving, thank you for showing me this,” Pryce said in genuine awe. The statue had a great amount of detail, making it all the more impressive when one considered that it was crafted by someone whose talons lacked the dexterity of human digits. Each meticulously carved scale captured the rippling impression of a dragon in motion while the gemstone eyes sparkled with life, making it seem as if the statue might leap from its nest at any moment.

Jooral accepted his thanks with a complacent nod, then asked, «The patterns here are made from clam shells, can you see their many colors?»

“Yes, let me show you which colors I can see…” Pryce dug around his pockets to retrieve the prism he had packed. “I can only see these colors,” he said, swiping a finger across the spectrum of colors splayed out across the ground, from red to violet.

«That is more than I thought. From the way you described it, it sounded like he could only see a few colors,» Jooral said a little critically to Fathom, who flicked his nictitating membranes in annoyance at this barb.

“I’m guessing clam shells don’t have the same color as the patterns of a dragon?” Pryce asked Fathom.

“No, they’re…different. You can’t see the colors, so it is difficult to describe, but it looks a little like the inside of a clam shell,” Fathom explained.

“What did you use to make this red color?” He asked Jooral. Pryce noticed Ghorrah’s spines flattened in a scowl when she heard Fathom’s hesitant translation, and he feared he’d somehow been offensive.

Jooral, however, did not react to his suspected blunder. «I named this color dragon blood, and that is a secret,» she said smugly.

“Dragon blood? Blood turns black after a while, it wouldn’t look red like this. Is this color made from tree blood?” Pryce guessed, smiling at the idea of a draconic trade secret. Fathom hesitated again, but went ahead with the translation.

«How…!» Jooral exclaimed, her eyes widening for a split second. «How did you know?» She asked, regaining her composure.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Pryce chuckled while Fathom too blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know, but humans have done similar things to get colors from trees and rocks too.”

«Rocks? How do you get color from rocks? I tried using rocks for color before, but they never last long,» Jooral asked. She seemed simultaneously fascinated by the idea while being plaintive at being outdone.

“I don’t know much about that kind of thing,” Pryce shrugged apologetically. “But other humans would know lots about it,” he added.

«Does he not know it is rude to ask for secrets?» Ghorrah interrupted with an irritated rumble.

«Humans are different, they have less secrets, and teach each other things,» Fathom explained. «And it is not his fault if she gave away her own secret,» he added smugly.

«He is not wrong, that was indeed my fault,» Jorral said good-naturedly, though Ghorrah still looked like she wanted to argue the point, and Celeste, who had been watching silently, looked a little anxious.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was rude,” Pryce said, hoping that would smooth things over. He couldn’t understand much of the words used, but their adversarial tone was impossible to misinterpret. Fathom was reluctant to translate this, but the apology did seem to placate Ghorrah.

«I do have something else to show you, I am curious to see if humans know how to make it,» Jooral said, standing back up and retrieving her wood carving.

«I have already seen those, so I may as well go hunting. Is there anything you’d like, Jooral, Ahnoumh?» Ghorrah asked.

«I already ate this morning,» Celeste said with a nod of thanks.

«Thank you, my wings, anything you catch will be fine,» Jooral said with her own thankful nod.

«You say that every time, and every time you eat some of mine,» Ghorrah huffed, tossing her head in exasperation. Jooral only responded with an odd chortling noise – something Pryce assumed to be a draconic snicker.

“I wanted to ask, does Jooral call Ghorrah ‘my wings’?” Pryce asked Fathom after Jooral and Ghorrah had left. He had heard it several times before, but wasn’t sure if he was interpreting that right; for all he knew it was a quirk of Draconic grammar, or a new expression.

“Yes, why? They are…” Fathom paused. “You have not told me this word yet. They are…a bit like mates, but closer to very good friends.”

“...I don’t think there’s a word for this in English,” Pryce said, scratching his head. “The only thing I can think of is ‘best friend’.”

“That is…not very wrong, but that is two words, not one word,” Fathom snorted.

«What are you two talking about?» Jooral asked, having returned with something small in her talons and sounding curious to hear Fathom speaking English.

«It is complicated, let me finish talking to Pryce, then I will explain,» Fathom said, then had to translate this to Pryce.

“In human culture mates are usually considered closer than friends, and closer than best friends, though some people would disagree,” Pryce explained.

“Well, that is confusing, ‘best friends’ are less common and closer than mates,” Fathom rumbled. “I will try explaining these words again to make things less confusing; you said a friend is ‘a person you are happy to see’, but we fight or trade with most other dragons. Trading can make someone happy, but I don’t think that is the same as being happy to see someone.”

“Yeah, I didn’t have the right words at the time, but a friend is basically someone you trust,” Pryce nodded.

“Good, that is what I guessed,” Fathom nodded, content to see that he’d guessed correctly. “Now I will explain ‘mates’. Mates are dragons who have an egg together, so these two are…obviously not mates,” Fathom said, working around the missing word.

“Okay,” Pryce murmured as he tilted his head in thought. There were definitely some cultural differences that made the term ‘mate’ not entirely accurate, even if it was true. He decided to offer an alternative word, seeing as there was nothing he could do to avoid this issue. “Let’s call them ‘partners’ for now. Can mates be partners?”

“Yes, sometimes mates become partners, or the other way around, but I thought you didn’t have a word for this? What does ‘partner’ mean?” Fathom asked, while Jooral was visibly growing more restless with each sentence she could not participate in.

“‘Partner’ is one of the words for a human mate. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can think of right now. Humans only have one partner, are dragons the same?”

“Yes,” Fathom said simply.

“Alright, I think that’s a good word. You should explain what we were talking about, Jooral looks like she’s going to explode.”

Fathom snorted in amusement, and did as Pryce asked. «Humans consider mates to be closer than partners, but I am not sure why,» he summarized.

«Took you long enough,» Jooral snorted, flicking her spines in irritation. «That is very odd, I wonder why they think so? Does he think we are strange?» She asked, awaiting the translation.

“It is a little strange, but not bad, strange is interesting,” Pryce answered through Fathom. “And I’m not sure why we have this difference…maybe it’s because dragons live much longer than humans and can have more than one mate in their lives? That would make mates less important, but this doesn’t explain why you don’t have more…er…friends,” Pryce said awkwardly, belatedly realizing this sounded like an insult.

«Humans take 20 years to become an adult, and most only live around 80 years. Raising a child takes most of their lives, so they usually only have one mate,» Fathom explained to Jooral, then turned to Pryce. “That’s easy, friends need more trust than mates. Mates both want to see their egg grow up safely, and do not need to stay together after the dragonet becomes an adult. Friends often do not want the same things, so they need more trust.”

“That...makes sense,” Pryce said after a moment’s thought. “How many of all dragon partners are both male or both female? Is there a name for this?”

“I…don’t know,” Fathom said, narrowing his eyes in thought. “That changes often, and some partners do not stay together very long, but maybe one in five partners are both male or both female? Why are you so surprised?” Fathom asked, blinking.

“Because…maybe 1% of human partners are both male and female?” Pryce said, uncertain.

“That is a very low number,” Fathom said, a sentiment echoed by the other two dragons. “Oh, there is one more reason for this; some dragons like to have a partner who they can’t accidently have eggs with,” he added.

“That…makes a lot of sense, actually,” Pryce said, his forehead wrinkled in thought. “Sorry for leaving you out of the conversation, Jooral, what do you have in your hands?”

«This is something very few dragons can make, and I am the best of them,» she said proudly, holding out the object.

“Oh, a clay bowl!” Pryce exclaimed, recognizing the technology that Fathom had mentioned a few days prior. “It is hard to make these, you use a special type of dirt and water to make this, then you use fire to make it dry and hard, right?”

Jooral huffed upon hearing him describe the process. «I expected this, but I hoped otherwise.»

“This is very impressive, did you learn how to do this alone, or did someone teach you?” Pryce asked, amazed. Clay pottery may be a millenia-old technology, but it was still very difficult for one person to make from scratch, especially considering the pottery had to be large enough for a dragon to use. The bowl she held was closer to ‘cup’ on a dragon’s scale than a bowl. It was at most only half a meter in diameter, but Pryce knew it was quite the feat to sculpt something that size without it cracking apart during the firing process.

«Yes, a long time ago I made a fire near wet dirt, and I saw that some soft parts became hard. It took a long time to learn how to make something that did not break into pieces, and even then it was small and useless,» she rumbled, an unfocused, distant look in her eyes.

“That’s amazing,” Pryce said, walking up to inspect the cup without touching it.

«This is not very nice, I have other better ones,» Jooral boasted as he examined the clay cup.

“Can I see them? Please?”

Jooral squinted down at him, appearing indecisive. «No,» she finally said, «I do not trust you that much yet,» she said somewhat reluctantly.

Pryce tried not to take offense at this, though he could not help but feel a little disappointed.

“...Is it rude to ask Jooral about her past?” He asked Fathom.

“It is embarrassing to ask because that is something a dragon is expected to know, but it should be fine if I ask for you,” Fathom said before echoing his question.

«I could tell you,» Jooral said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. «But only if you tell me something interesting first.»

“Haven’t I told you enough?” Pryce sighed.

«Yes, but you gave away those secrets,» she said, flaring her spines smugly.

“Fair enough,” Pryce chuckled. “How about I tell you how humans found the distance between the Earth and the Sun?”

“Celeste, do you have any questions? You were quieter than normal today,” he asked, glancing at the younger dragon, the day nearing its end.

Fathom translated for him, and Celeste said off-handedly, «I do not have any questions right now, I was just trying to see if I could learn your language by listening.»

“Oh, you don’t have to go through all of that trouble, I’ll teach you that whenever you want,” Pryce said, causing Celeste to look thoughtful.

«I noticed that you say ‘Celeste’ when you talk to me, what does that word mean?» she asked.

“Well, I can’t say dragon words, so I need to use human words to talk about a dragon.”

«Humans words? Like a new name?» Celeste blinked. «Did he give you a new name?» She asked her father.

«...Yes,» Fathom admitted.

«I am surprised you let him do that,» Celeste said, narrowing her eyes in a scowl. «I think he calls you ‘Fathom’? What does that mean?»

«It means ‘understanding’, and I would rather he give me a new name than to say my name badly,» he said defensively.

“And yet I still had to bribe you,” Pryce muttered.

“What was that?” Fathom swung his head to squint suspiciously at Pryce.

“Nothing, are names very important to dragons?” Pryce asked.

Fathom snorted, deciding to ignore the jab. “Yes, names are very important, your name is who you are. Do humans have more than one name?”

“No, like I told you earlier, we only have family names and personal names. Very few humans change their names.”

«What does ‘Celeste’ mean?» Celeste asked. «That…is not a bad meaning, at least,» she said when Fathom told her that it meant ‘sky’. «I would still rather he use my name. Can you ask him to try? It cannot be that bad,» she said skeptically.

Pryce did as she asked.

"...He can call me Celeste."

"Is it that bad?" Pryce grumbled.

"Yes," Father and daughter said, simultaneously.

"How did you know what he said?" Fathom asked in surprise, then blinked as he realized she spoke in English.

«I mostly guessed from his tone, and he answered a few questions with ‘yes’ a few times today. It is not hard to learn what that is when you repeated his words in our speech right afterwards,» Celeste answered with a shrug.

Fathom tilted his head in acquiescence. "Well, I would be glad if you learned their speech quickly, my throat is dry from talking so much. Pryce, do you want to get some water?" He asked, having seen the human drink several bottles of water throughout the day.

«I will wait here, I am not thirsty,» Celeste said, and watched as Pryce clambered onto her father’s neck with some amusement.

Pryce filled and disinfected his water bottles as great gulps of water traveled down Fathom's gullet. He was glad they had a moment to talk in private, and considered his words carefully while Fathom finished drinking.

"That is much better. I have not talked so much in a long time; it is tiring to repeat your words so much," Fathom said, before swallowing a few more mouthfuls of water.

"Repeating words in another language is 'translate'," Pryce said, glad for the minor distraction.

"...We only have one language, so it makes sense that we don’t have this word. Even ‘language’ is just something like 'talking', or ‘speech’," Fathom said. "It is interesting to learn words that we do not have, I have not noticed it before, but now that I've talked to dragons I can see that I think about things differently than I did before."

"That is very interesting," Pryce agreed, filing that information away under his ever-growing pile of things to look into. "By the way, I have a few questions that I didn't want to ask in front of Jooral."

"Ask," Fathom said curiously, tilting his head at the indirect approach.

"Most dragons want eggs, right? Then why do dragons take partners of the same gender?"

"Depends. Some dragons are happy with a few eggs, some are too weak to win the chance to have an egg, or some don’t care enough to have eggs," Fathom answered with a shrug.

"Do any dragons have two eggs at once?" Pryce asked, though he knew the answer had to be yes; a population would die out if each dragon only ever had one egg.

"Yes, one dragon can have two eggs at once, but that is very rare and very lucky. A dragon can try to win another chance to have an egg ten years after their child becomes an adult.”

"Humans can have as many children as they want, though most only have one or two."

"That's not surprising if there are fifty million of you," Fathom huffed. "Our culture is very different, dragons must earn a chance to have an egg."

“Yeah, about that, how do dragons do that? Earn a chance to have an egg, I mean. You mentioned it had to do with the solstice celebration, right?”

“Yes, dragons in one province come together and compete. Males compete against males, and females do the same. Dragon who wins once competes against another dragon who has also won once, then the winner fights someone who has won twice. This happens until the winners are left.” Fathom finished here, but seemed to realize Pryce would ask more questions, so he elaborated, “The competition can be about almost anything, but both dragons need to agree to it. If they can’t agree then they play a game where one dragon grabs a few rocks, and the other dragon guesses if the number of rocks is odd or even. Winner decides the type of competition.”

“Interesting,” Pryce said. It was a pretty elegant way of organizing what was essentially a tournament. “What if the winning male and female don’t like each other?”

“Then it gets complicated, but that is rare; it usually doesn’t happen unless they hate each other very much.” Fathom paused. “Why did you not want to talk about this in front of Jooral?”

“I haven’t actually gotten to that part.” Pryce rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I wanted to ask if dragons think it is bad for partners to have the same gender.”

"No?" Fathom said, though it came out almost like a question. "Why would they think that?"

"Humans were like that for a long time, though there are much less of them now," Pryce admitted.

"Humans care about other human's partners? Why? That does not affect them," Fathom snorted in derision. “...Does it?” He added questioningly.

"No, it doesn't, but they still do. It's difficult to explain why, but there’s not really a good reason.”

"Dragons like it when other dragons have partners with the same gender; that can mean less competition for them," Fathom said frankly.

“Makes sense. What about…uh…” Pryce trailed off, wondering how to explain ‘heritage’ or ‘bloodline’. “Many people want their children to have children, because they want to have a…part of themselves to continue existing. Does that make sense? Do dragons also want this?”

“Yes, I think I understand. Some dragons do want that,” Fathom said, with a side-to-side motion of his head. “But we live many years, so if a parent wants ‘a part of themselves to continue existing’ then they should just have more eggs themselves,” he said reasonably.

Pryce scratched his head, a little bemused. “That makes sense. It sounds like dragons are pretty pragmatic. That is a word to describe someone who makes sense," he added when Fathom looked blank.

"Yes, that is true," he said complacently, then turned to eye the sunset. “We should get back, Celeste is probably waiting for us.”

[JOURNAL ENTRY]

Contrary to popular belief, homosexual behavior has often been documented in nature. I never really thought about it, but it makes sense that dragons would be no exception.

To be clear, it’s not that dragons are more accepting or anything like that; they simply don’t bother with things that don’t affect them.

It’s fascinating how one can trace the differences in culture to the (rather drastic) differences in our biology.

On a more important note, Jooral claimed that only a few dragons know how to make clay pots. She also boasted that hers are the best, so I feel safe in concluding that dragons don’t have technology much more advanced than basic/intermediate metallurgy and clay pottery.

Come to think of it, Jooral might have literal centuries of experience as a craftsman craftsdragon artisan. The color of a dragon’s hide is dependent on diet, so that’s not necessarily a useful indicator, but she still gives the impression of being old in ways I can’t quite describe – even if she acts rather youthful. I should ask for her age.

Currently, my main concern is winning over Ghorrah, who doesn’t have as much interest in humans and is by far the least amiable among the three. Not sure what I can do about that, but I’ll focus on collecting information for now.