//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Inspections // Story: The Moon's Wrath // by Dolphy Blue Drake //------------------------------// Currently half-buried in mud, Nightfall could somehow hear somegon laughing at him; obviously a Dragoon by the pitch and raspy timbre.  Nightfall was indignant; he wouldn’t stand for being laughed at, especially not by some stranger who’d knocked him into the mud.  He was going to give his assailant a piece of his mind!  Once he wasn’t on the ground anymore, anyway.  Wishful was snickering, too, but he’d deal with her later. “What in Gwynnia’s name was that for?” he snapped as he stood back up, turning to glare at the dragon who had slammed into him.  The Dragoon was clearly a Fairy Dragon, if his bolt-shaped horns and feathered wings were anything to go by.  He had a Skill Emblem of a cloud and a tri-colored lightning bolt on the end of his tail, cyan scales, rose eyes, and unkempt fins in all seven colors of the rainbow, indigo included.  His head fins were especially messy, sticking out at odd angles, and his ventral scales carried the same pattern as his fins.  Oddly enough, his feathers didn’t match the colors of his scales, but were also multi-colored. “Hey, it’s you who got in my way,” the brash prismatic Dragoon chuckled.  “Watch where you’re going!  I tend to fly fast.” “I was just standing here!” Nightfall growled.  “You were clearly the one who caused the crash by not watching where you were going!” “Fine, fine,” the rainbow dragon sighed.  “I’ll help you get cleaned up.” “Wait, no, that won’t be necessary!” Nightfall protested as the Fairy Dragoon ignored what he said, “I know a spell for—” Ignoring Nightfall’s protests, the other Dragoon flew up, raked his talons through a puffy white cloud right above him, turning it gray, then punched it to test if it would produce rain.  Instead of a few drops, though, he ended up creating a localized downpour right where Nightfall was standing. The water washed off all the mud, but also soaked his wallet, the bills within it, and even partially soaked the checklist, which were all being stored in a now-soggy backpack. Nightfall glared at the other Dragoon and held up a talon while saying, “Wait.  Don’t even think of trying to dry me off.  I have a spell for that, too.” Nightfall’s twin horns started to glow, and a water-repelling field emanated from the surface of his scales, forcing all the water off, then passed through his backpack and forced out all the water that had soaked into anything. “Now that that’s done with,” Nightfall said, suddenly a little happier, “seeing as you’re a Fairy Dragon, can you direct me to the head of the Weather Department of this town?  I’m Nightfall Sheen, the Unicorn with me is my assistant, Wishful Legend, and we’ve been sent here by the order of Lord Lumin himself to make sure this town will be ready for his arrival to begin the festivities.” “You’re looking right at ‘im!” the Fairy Dragoon replied, holding out a claw for a shake.  “My name’s Prism Slash, and not only do I head the Weather Department, I’m its only member, for I’m all we need!” Nightfall narrowed his eyes.  “If you’re all they need, why are there hundreds of clouds over the town?” “Hey, I just got up from a nap, okay?” Slash said with a barely-apologetic shrug, withdrawing his claw when the shake wasn’t accepted.  “I can still assure you that I’m the best at controlling weather there is!  I’ll have these gone in ten seconds, tops!” “I once saw a single Fairy Dragon stop an entire T11 level tornado in ten seconds,” Nightfall said flatly, clearly unimpressed.  “If you’re better than that, you should be able to clear these in five.” “You’re on!” Slash replied eagerly.  “I’ll show you why they call me Slash!” Picking up a stopwatch off the ground, Prism Slash threw the stopwatch to Wishful, who caught it in her magic before giving him a confused look. “Girl, you keep track of time and tell me when to start, okay?” Prism Slash asked with a wink.  Wishful sighed and rolled her eyes, but held up the stopwatch anyway. “Ready…” she said, and Prism Slash spread his wings and stretched. “Set…” Prism Slash got on his hind legs, crouched to spring into the air, and held his front claws over his head, talons outstretched and barring his teeth.  “Go!” The instant the stopwatch started, Prism Slash was nearly impossible to see, save for the seven-colored blur he left in his wake, zipping through the sky at supersonic speeds, creating a sonic boom that assisted him in destroying over half the clouds.  The remaining ones were torn to shreds by his teeth and talons, and he screeched to a halt in front of Nightfall and Wishful with a simple “Done!” Wishful stopped the clock and just stared at it bug-eyed, moving her mouth, but no words came out.  She showed it to Nightfall, whose catlike pupils widened to be almost circular, also at a loss for words. “Lemme see!” Prism Slash chuckled before taking the stopwatch from the stunned Unicorn, whose magical grip offered no resistance.  Taking one look at it, he let out a whoop and shouted, “Five on the dot, baby!  Now tell me, who’s the greatest Weather Dragoon alive?” “That’s impossible…” Nightfall breathed after being silent for several seconds.  “Was that your full speed?” “Not even close to it,” Prism Slash said casually while inspecting his talons.  “I can go way faster than that, but it would’ve taken more than five seconds to reach that speed.  I’m pretty much the fastest flier alive.  I’ll finally get to prove it to everygon in the world when I get into the Shatterbursts, who are the best aerial stunt team in the world, consisting of just Fairy Dragons!” “Well, Prism Slash,” Nightfall said, this time reaching out his own claw for a shake, “That simply was incredible.  You cleared the whole sky in five seconds!  There’s not a cloud anywhere!” Prism Slash accepted the shake and squeezed firmly.  “Eh, it was nothing, really.  A new record, sure, but I set a new record in something about three times a year.” With a few exchanges of “Goodbyes” and “Seeyas!”, Nightfall and Wishful headed away. “Well, that’s one part of the list complete,” Nightfall said as he levitated the scroll and a pen out of his backpack, giving them to Wishful. The Unicorn checked off the box next to “Check on weather control,” and nodded to Nightfall. “Now, let’s figure out which segment of the list would be in the next closest location…” Nightfall trailed off when he noticed a slightly pudgy, bubblegum pink Dragoon with blue eyes, just staring at him.  He was clearly a Nature Dragon, as his plain ribbed wings and horns with grooves resembling tree bark plainly indicated.  He had springy fins that were a deeper pink; well, his head fins were more than just springy, but poofy, in a way.  He had pale blue ventral scales, and a Skill Emblem of three balloons.  “Um, my name is Nightfall Sheen,” Nightfall began awkwardly, “could you—” He was cut off by the the pink Dragoon letting out a huge gasp, leaping into the air, hovering for a short period, (oddly without the use of his wings) before dropping to the ground.  Suddenly, he sprang back into the air, and zipped away while flying only a few inches off the ground at flight speeds that Nightfall was certain Nature Dragons were incapable of, leaving behind a cloud of dust, even though the street was paved with cobblestone and looked perfectly free of dust. “That’s twice now that my concepts of what counts as possible have been shattered today,” Nightfall observed nervously.  “We should get going, Wishful.” Wishful nodded, and the two moved on to the Town Spire in the center of town.  Like most Town Spires, it had a large ground floor for things such as festivities and the like, but after the base floor, It tapered thinner and thinner as it went up, until it ended in a single point about ten floors above. “So, does the checklist require anything here?” Nightfall asked. Wishful looked at the list and nodded.  “Yep.  We have to check on how the decorations are going along; and the festivities are always at the Town Spire.” She turned to him with a slightly bewildered look, “You should know that.” Nightfall blinked, then faceclawed in embarrassment, and the two walked inside.  The main hall was well-decorated with bright damask banners and tapestries depicting the sun, as well as fine pieces of metalwork decorations that looked freshly polished and reflected the sunlight very well, catching the sun’s rays from the windows and reflecting them all over the hall, bathing the chamber in golden light. “Wow!  This is simply amazing!” Nightfall breathed.  “Isn’t it, Wishful?” “Yeah…” she said dreamily, her gaze locked in one direction, not taking in any of the decorations, “simply amazing…” Nightfall followed her gaze and his claw met his face again when he saw what she was looking at.  It, or rather, he, was a white Mystic Dragon with purple fins, the head fins styled as if to imitate curls, but clipped somewhat short; just not as short as Nightfall’s were.  He had pale silver ventral scales, a trio of diamonds serving as his Skill Emblem, and a physique that looked slightly above average in strength for a Mystic Dragoon. “Oh, hello there!” the white Dragoon said when he noticed Nightfall and Wishful.  “I take it you’re the inspector, right?” “That I am,” Nightfall replied with a nod.  “I’m Nightfall Sheen, and this is my assistant, Wishful Legend.” “My name is Extraordinaire,” the other Dragoon replied cheerfully, standing up on his hind legs to give a flourish and a bow.  “I run the Dragontown Boutique, but I also craft metalwork and have a forge right next to my shop.  It’s a shame that most dragons only care about buying my metalwork, though.”  The Mystic Dragoon dropped back down onto four legs, looking a little wistful.  “I’m sure that a good suit or dress wouldn’t hurt anygon to just try at least once…” He shook his head and quickly regained his composure, settling back into his usual cheerful expression.  “Anyway, the decorations here are all my own designs:  The banners, the tapestries, and all the various pieces of decorative metalwork, such as the shields, crests and masks, are all my doing!” Nightfall whistled to express how impressed he was, glancing around at the decorations again, but looked back to find Extraordinaire suddenly right in his face.  Just a tad uncomfortably so, too. “Wait, you said your name is Nightfall Sheen, right?” the white Dragoon inquired intensely, looking suddenly very, very curious. “Um, yes?” Nightfall answered, confused and wondering if Extraordinaire wasn’t good with personal space issues. “There’s only one Nightfall Sheen I’ve ever heard of, and since you were sent from El Dragado by Lord Lumin, you must be him!” Extraordinaire exclaimed, getting even more uncomfortably close.  “You’re the protegé of the Prince himself!  Somegon as high-ranking as yourself shouldn’t be wearing nothing but a simple backpack!  You need something to wear that implies your importance!” “Um, I’m not really high-ranking,” Nightfall tried to reply, attempting to back up a bit, but Extraordinaire would have none of it. “Come now!  There’s no need for that!”  The other Dragoon exclaimed, whipping out a tape measure from his own bag.  But after thinking for a moment, the white Dragoon noticed Nightfall’s expression, which screamed, For the love of Gwynnia, please no!  He stopped, obviously in thought, then shrugged and put his tape measure away, frowning, “Oh.  Nevermind, since you seem... satisfied with your current ensemble.”  He looked more than a little disappointed, but continued, “Well, if you really are okay with looking like some wandering hermit, suit yourself.”  He broke into a smile again, “But, if you ever realize that I was right the whole time, stop by my shop! “Umm, I will?  Anyways, good job with the decorations,” Nightfall commented.  “Keep up the good work!” “Farewell for now!” Extraordinaire called after Nightfall as he turned around to leave for the next location. About halfway out of the Town Spire, Nightfall noticed that the clip-clop of hooves wasn’t following him, and turned to see that Wishful hadn’t budged an inch.  She was still staring dreamily at the tailor/metalworker, and Nightfall could almost swear he could see hearts in her eyes. “Wishful, it’s time to go,” Nightfall said levelly.  When the filly still didn’t move, Nightfall sighed, grabbed her tail in his claw and started to walk backwards on three legs, trying to drag her out. Somehow, she still wouldn’t budge. “Uh…” Nightfall said, scratching his head in thought, trying to devise a way to get her to snap out of it or move her himself.  Maybe he could levitate her out the door?  Or perhaps he could use some kind of oil to get her unstuck? While Nightfall was still pondering, Extraordinaire turned his head away from the helmet he was hanging up and noticed the pair were still there.  “Oh?  I thought you were leaving!” “I was,” Nightfall huffed.  “But ‘lover girl’ here won’t move!” Extraordinaire looked over at the filly, and only just then noticed her dreamy, slack-jawed gaze aimed at him.  “Oh my, she seems smitten with me!” Extraordinaire chuckled good-naturedly.  “Okay, I’ll humor her for now, just to see if we can get her back to her senses.”  The white Mystic Dragoon cleared his throat and got down to the filly’s eye level and said, “Wishy, dear, I’m a bit busy right now.  Perhaps you could stop by my shop some other time so we can chat?” That broke her out of her trance, resulting in her blinking a few times before saying, “did you just call me ‘Wishy’?” “Yes?” Extraordinaire asked, raising an eyebrow. “Normally, nogon can call me that,” Wishful began levelly before squealing like, well, a little filly, “but you can call me ‘Wishy’ all you want!” “Well, on that note, we’ve gotta get going,” Nightfall said, placing a claw gently on her shoulder and helping the lovestruck filly to turn around.  “Still have a few remaining things to check off, right, Wishful?” Wishful blinked again, then flushed hotly as she got ahold of herself, and nodded before checking off “Check on decorations”. “Okay, we have only two things left besides you making friends,” Wishful remarked with a smirk, provoking a groan from Nightfall.  “These two are ‘Check on refreshments’ and ‘Check on opening performance’.  The Dragontown Farmer’s Association’s lead family’s property is off to the west, while the dragon in charge of the opening performance lives off to the east.  Which one should we go to first?” Nightfall’s stomach decided for him with a growl, and he announced, with a hint of desperation, “To the west.  Hopefully, they’ll let me taste-test a few dishes so I can actually get some food in me.”  His stomach concurred, loudly.  “I should’ve had a snack before we left…” Nightfall levitated the filly onto his back, told her to hold on tight, then took to the air, his empty belly serving as more than enough motivation to fly at his top speed, which was about a moderate fifty miles per hour. Following the dirt path along the outskirts of the town below, they passed multiple small farms, then Nightfall spied a large number of Nature Dragons congregating at the large farm near the end of the road.  Swooping down, he landed at the gate to the farm and craned his neck up to read what the sign above it said:  “Apple Clan Main Farm and Dragontown Farmers’ Association Headquarters.” Panting for breath and trying to quell the protests of his empty stomach, Nightfall staggered through the gate and promptly collapsed onto the dirt, immediately drawing the attention of everygon in the crowd. After practically crawling towards them for several yards, Nightfall shakily got to four legs again and gasped, “Sorry… about that.  Nightfall… Sheen… and Wishful… Legend… here to inspect… tomorrow’s refreshments!” He gasped and wheezed after that, and his stomach gave a very painful growl, protesting yet again. “Wait one gosh dern minute, pardner,” said an orange Nature Dragoon standing before him, an evident drawl to his voice.  He had golden yellow fins (the head fins were barely managed at all, just clipped barely enough so they weren’t long enough for him to be mistaken for a Dragoness), a brown stetson on his head, red vental scales and a trio of apples serving as his Skill Emblem.  “Did ya just fly all the way here from town on an empty stomach?” Nightfall nodded, cringing in pain when his stomach growled again.  “I skipped lunch,” he admitted in an embarrassed undertone. “Everygon, move aside!” the orange Dragoon barked, causing the dense crowd of dragons to part to reveal a heavily-laden table set up with a bench.  It had so many platters of food on it, it looked almost ready to buckle under the weight.  The smells from it were no less appetizing, wafting tantalisingly to Nightfall’s nose. “We were just gonna have ya’ll just take a gander at our food, maybe smell it a bit.” he nodded towards Wishful to indicate that she was also being referred to. “Y’know, just ta make sure it’s up ta snuff and all, but since yer so hungry, we’ll let ya actually eat ‘em, too.”  Pushing a steak smoked on apple wood and slathered in a thin glaze that smelled mostly of apples (but also of some other fruits) in front of Nightfall, who had eagerly just taken a seat, he urged, “C’mon, dig in!” Nightfall needed no further encouragement.  He ripped the steak in two and stuffed half of it into his mouth, chewing quickly just to get something in his stomach before savoring the second half, which was absolutely perfect. “Ah, that hit the spot,” Nightfall said with a satisfied nod.  But, before he could get up, he found himself presented with a carrot-and-meat pie, courtesy of a golden yellow Dragoon with orange fins and no other traits he could make out because the crowd obscured most of the dragon from sight. Nightfall’s stomach growled for more food, so he obliged it by biting into the meat pie.  The combination of flavors was incredible, but as soon as he finished eating that, he found even more food on his plate.  Obliging his stomach yet again, he found that every time he finished a piece of food, another dragon wanted him to try their dish next.  His hosts seemed to have decided to make use of their unexpected taste-tester as much as possible.  His stomach soon stopped protesting for food, and eventually he started to feel pain from overeating instead of emptiness, but the endless train of food just wouldn’t stop, and he was too polite to refuse a meal thanks to his lessons from Lord Lumin.  After all, they were civilized dragons—refusing a meal was tantamount to spitting in your host’s face, then dropping a stone block on their foot and poking them in the eye.  By the time a Dragoness placed the final piece of food on his plate, he was full to bursting, and he had to force himself to eat her dish. “So, how were they?” the orange Dragoon asked with an impossibly-wide, hopeful smile. “Good, and very filling,” Nightfall said, trying his best to not audibly groan from the new pain in his stomach from it being so stuffed. “Perfect!” the orange Dragoon exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically with his front claws, prompting the other farmers to do the same half-heartedly in comparison, before they all departed thereafter to return to their own farms. “Now, sorry fer not introducin’ mahself sooner, Mr. Sheen,” the orange Dragoon said, sweeping his hat off and fumbling with it awkwardly with his front claws.  “Mah name’s Apple Slice.  We raise some animals here, sure, but we deal mostly in apples.” Apple Slice pointed to the left, indicating a Nature Dragoness with unclipped orange fins, the head fins growing so long that they had to be bound together by a bow to keep them orderly, red scales, a big green apple for a Skill Emblem, and yellow ventral scales. “That there’s mah big sister, Ambrosia,” Apple Slice explained.  “She carries a lot of this farm on her back.”  He grimaced, and added in an undertone, “Or, she has ever since Mammy and Pappy died.” Quickly looking around again, Apple Slice pointed a talon at a small yellow Nature Dragonling who looked to be about six or seven years old and still perfectly capable of standing on two legs.  The Dragonling had red fins, with the head fins trimmed pretty short, so they just barely poked out under his baseball cap, which he wore backwards.  His ventral scales were orange, and he had no Skill Emblem at the end of his tail, meaning he had yet to discover his Greatest Skill. “That’s mah little brother, Apple Blast,” Apple Slice said, his expression neutral again.  “He hatched shortly before Mammy and Pappy passed away, so he has no memories of them.  He tries to help out, but he’s just too small, y’know?”  He briefly broke into a fond smile, before resuming his usual composure  “He spends a lotta time with his friends, anyway, and the slew of ‘em get into a lot of trouble tryin’ ta get their Skill Emblems.”  He gave an amused chuckle at the thought of their antics, before glancing about again. “Now, there’s one more member of our family, but where could he be?” Apple Slice looked around until he spied something rocking back and forth in the shade of a tree, then guided Nightfall to a better position so he could see the sleeping elderly Dragoon in the rocking chair. “And this is Grampa Crispin,” Apple Slice whispered, so as not to wake him. Nightfall looked over the old dragon.  His fins had faded to white, and he wore a straw hat on the back of his head, almost falling off.  He was so old that he had grown long bony whiskers and a beard, which he had chosen to not shave.  His scales were a pale green, he wore an orange scarf, his scales were a pale red, and on the end of his tail there was a Skill Emblem of an apple pie. “Grampa was Pappy’s father,” Apple Slice said as he led Nightfall away from the snoozing dragon and back to the table, where Wishful was patiently waiting.  “Grampa helped settle this town, but that was almost a hundred years ago.  He’s over a hundred now, and he ain’t kicked the bucket yet.”  His tone became slightly quieter, more reverent.  “ Ah... Ah just hope he’s proud of what Ah’ve done ta unite the farmers of this here town ta work together.”  His neutral expression broke into a nervous smile for a second, before he shook his head again, looking slightly embarrassed to be revealing this much to a stranger. “Now, sorry Ah kept ya fer so long,” Apple Slice apologized, once again removing his hat.  “Ah’m sure ya’ll have work ta do still.  The festival’s tomorrow, after all!  See ya’ll there!” Nightfall nodded, Wishful got on his back again, and with a few flaps of his wings, he managed to get off the ground, but struggled to gain altitude because his stomach was so full.  He eventually got them high enough into the air to fly all the way back to town, then over it and over the path leading to the east.  The east road, though also made of dirt like the path to the farms, looked much less developed and more unused.  The dirt wasn’t packed or worn at all, as if only used either infrequently or by one or two dragons at the most. As he flew over the path, Nightfall suddenly heard birds singing.  Not in the usual disorganized chatter he heard from birds, but organized and harmonized, almost like an avian choir.  Spying a cottage nearby in the middle of pretty much nowhere, Nightfall also just noticed a yellow dragon right below him, and swooped down behind a tree to peer around it and see what in Gwynnia’s name was going on. The dragon in question was clearly a Fairy Dragoon, with pink fins that had a flowing yet slightly clipped formation on his head.  His ventral scales were a pale green, and his Skill Emblem was of a trio of butterflies. All in all, he looked as entirely unthreatening as dragonly possible. “Okay, everyone, one more time, from the top,” the Dragoon said, his mellow tenor voice incredibly soft and gentle.  “Miss Blue Jay, you were a little off-key last time.  Try a major second higher this time.” “Okay, one, two, three,” he said briskly before using a conductor’s baton, and to the surprise of both Nightfall and Wishful, the birds burst into song, singing the Anthem of Draconia in perfect six-part polyphony.  Well, just the tune, but Nightfall and Wishful stared at each other in absolute shock until the birds stopped singing. The Dragoon opened his mouth to say something, but Nightfall dashed around the tree and said, “that was amazing!  How did you do that?” Instead of answering, the yellow Dragoon squeaked and dashed to hide behind the exact same tree Nightfall was just behind a few seconds before, and started trembling while the birds flew away in a panic. “W-Who are you?” the Dragoon asked quietly.  Really quietly.  Nightfall had to tilt his head slightly to even hear him. “Um, I’m Nightfall Sheen, from El Dragado,” Nightfall replied, awkwardly waving a claw in the general direction of the suddenly very shy and timid Dragoon.  That was a little strange to Nightfall; the other Dragoon had only moments before been right at home teaching birds to sing a song composed by dragons, and was now cowering behind a tree as if faced with a mountain-sized Scorpio and not a bookish Mystic Dragoon as threatening as library dust.  “And this is my assistant, Wishful Legend.” The Unicorn filly trotted up to the timid Dragoon with a concerned frown and asked, “Mister?  Are you okay?” The timid Dragoon peered around the tree just enough to see who was talking to him, and suddenly broke into a huge smile before he walked up to her and started ruffling Wishful’s mane. “Aww, she’s a Unicorn filly!” he gushed, suddenly much more sociable, looking and sounding like he wanted to hug the stuffing out of her, if given half a chance.  “I’ve heard of Unicorns before, but I’ve never actually seen one until today!  So, she works with you?” “Yes,” Nightfall replied, glad for the ice to be utterly shattered.  “We were on our way to find the dragon in charge of the opening performance for the festivities tomorrow, and then we heard what you were doing and had to stop and check.  By the lovely way those birds were singing, I’d guess you’re him, aren’t you?” The yellow Dragoon blushed and turned to try and hide his face.  “Yes, that’d be me,” he replied softly.  “My name’s Timidwings.” “How were you able to do that?” Nightfall asked, eager to learn something new. “I don’t know exactly how I can understand animals and get them to understand me,” Timidwings replied with a shake of his head, looking like he wished he could say more.  “I just can.  It’s a part of my Greatest Skill:  working with animals.” “Ah,” Nightfall replied, disappointed that he didn’t learn that much. He sighed and looked back at the filly, “Well, Wishful, you can check off that box, too.  Now we have nothing left on the list to do, so—” Wishful cut him off, smirking mischievously.  “You’re forgetting one more box, Nighty!” “First of all, I’ve told you not to call me ‘Nighty’ in company.” He grumbled, flushing slightly.  “Second, I’m not doing that one,” Nightfall stated firmly, standing up on his hind legs and folding his forelegs in defiance.  “That one won’t make a difference on how the festival plays out, and there's no need to fully complete a checklist every time. That would make me a slave to Order, and I'm a normal, balanced Dragoon.” Settling back down to four legs, he turned to Timidwings and said, with a bit of reluctance, “well, we’ll see you at the festival tomorrow morning!  We’re going to the place Lord Lumin set aside for us to stay for the night.” “Well, goodbye, then,” Timidwings said as he took to the air to gather up the birds.  “If you visit again, please bring her with you!” Nightfall nodded, shooting him a quick smile, and Wishful got on his back before they took to the air again.