literature

The13Inquisitor's 'The Emergent'

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Literature Text

Pinkerton was, by and large a patient dragon. He had to be.
His sister, Crim was a hoarder and if it weren’t for his efforts, quietly giving away the things she collected behind her back, stocking the larder with the massive quantities of food she collected and organising the teetering towers of miscellaneous junk that were an alarmingly common sight throughout their lair, they’d both have likely been crushed to death long ago.
However, if there was one aspect of his sister’s obsession he despised, it was her tendency to collect orphaned eggs.
On occasion, she’d do the smart thing and take them to the nursery and care for them, at least until she was distracted by another aspect of her collection.
Pinkerton gave away as many of these ‘adopted’ eggs as he could contrive to; even with Crim’s tendency to collect food, their larder only had so much space.
Inevitably, some slipped through the cracks and others ended up buried in the mountains of junk in the lair, where they hatched and the hatchlings were left to navigate a labyrinth of forgotten trash, treasure and fancy apparel.
Pinkerton suspected that there was a society of dragons of various ages deeper inside the pile,-something he was unable to confirm due to being unable to get into the older sections of Crim’s hoard and a nagging fear that he wouldn’t find his way out even if he did and that he’d be doomed if that happened.

So, when a pair of adolescent guardians,-each one a good twenty metres long,-broke through a wall as Pinkerton was studiously moving items out of an older section of the hoard,-ostensibly to organise them better, but in actual fact to give them away to any dragon that might be passing by, one piece at a time, to avoid arousing Crim’s suspicion from her own stand not too far distant,-he remembered the other reason he hated his sister’s hoarding habit.

The two guardians were looking around themselves in slack-jawed wonder and bewilderment, they’d come out in a part of the cave network the lair was situated in where there was no roof and formed a natural courtyard and evidently, they’d never seen the sky.
‘What is this, Mirii?’ Asked the bigger of the two, a male with the blue-white eyes of an ice-dragon and,-incongruously,-bright orange scales and tawny wings.
‘I…I don’t know, Taruso…I’ve never seen anything like this before; it’s so…big…’ The smaller of the pair, a female of the light flight, with deep green scales and maroon wings replied, sounding awed and scared.
They were both looking at the sunny sky above the Windswept Plateau with similar looks of bewildered uncertainty on their faces.
‘That is the sky.’ Pinkerton said, to draw their attention.
‘Who’re you? I haven’t seen you in the tunnels before?’ The male, Tarus asked.
Pinkerton gave a tired sigh as he observed the mess of assorted junk the two guardians had made when they’d broke through the wall of junk.
In all honesty, Pinkerton had completely forgotten that passage and that part of the lair even existed.
‘I am Pinkerton, this is my home as much as yours. Are there many more of you in there?’ He asked.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened and he liked to keep track of the number of dragons crawled out of the hoard. So far, the record for the number of simultaneous emergent was twenty two. Pinkerton had hoped privately that there weren’t any more dragons living in the hoard after that lot, but there’d been more since.

‘Uh…yeah, there’s Finis, Thuur, Aldur, Drayk, Faf, Sahlokan, Kopak, Valdr, Umaroth, Glory, Starflight, Umhodan, Smaug, Orma, Czevak, Levitas, Menolly…’ Pinkerton waited patiently for the young guardian to finish.
Twenty-six. Wonderful. He thought when Tarus had finished listing names. It appeared he didn’t know how to count. Just like the rest of them.
‘Would one of you mind guiding me to them? There’s rather a lot of things I think you ought to know.’ Pinkerton asked, mentally bidding farewell to the notion of giving away anymore of Crim’s junk that day.
He had some explaining to do.
He’d probably have a good deal of teaching to do as well.
And then, he’d either have to find some way to accommodate all these new Emergents in his lair, or find flights willing to take them in.
And Crim would be liable to bring a dozen more back with her that evening.
I think it might be time I put my foot down. He thought to himself firmly, plastering his wings close to his sides unconsciously as he followed Tarus into the junk-lined tunnel, having extracted a promise from Mirii to stay put.
I am posting this on behalf of one who during the Flight Rising beta joined under the name 'The13Inquisitor', who asked that I upload this on their behalf as they don't have an account on DA. This is their work in response to some of the discussion, ideas and such that came about relating to Crim and how her requests include eggs.

The description that was placed on the original thread on the Flight Rising creative corner forum was:
The idea for this story was spawned in the "Questioning Crim" Thread by jdartist.
The basic gist of it is poking fun at Crim's tendency to occasionally ask for dragon eggs as part of her 'ask list'.
This takes a look at the logical extension and conclusion of Crim's hoarding, why Pinkerton always looks so surly and does so in a hopefully comic fashion.
And if anyone recognises all the series' I've referenced in this little one-shot, good on you, and be sure to name them!

EDIT: Inquis has his own DA account now :iconthe13inquisitor: and currently is known as The13][nquisitor on FR, user ID: 299.
© 2013 - 2024 Serensa-Stanza-scale
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LexiLopezi's avatar
Starflight from Wings of Fire? Smaug from Lord of the Rings? And that's all I know :l

Looking forward to when the game officially comes out because I don't have money to buy a pack.

Poor Pinkerton...