Vanessa

♦ art by Deoxtri

Vanessa Nicknames: Van, Nessa ♥ pre-named / adopted from Featherbutt Rescue Battered Shields Trinkets Scavenged and refit multiple times, these shields have yet another new owner. 65 Delightful Wooden Unicorn Trinkets It takes a particular kind of hatchling to seriously refer to this menacing plaything as 'delightful'. 47 Fallout Streak Pinion Organics A beautiful feather that doubles as a night-light. 45 Scarlet Flycatcher Wing Organics Paper-thin, translucent, and sturdy: A handy craftsdragon could find a use for this! 37 Good Eater Award Trinkets To the fae with a guardian's appetite. (Special thanks FigmentOfOrigin.) 80 ╭━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╮ The Matron (special thanks to Lunartwist / written by Disillusionist) ╰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╯ The Auction House is a busy place. Depending on why you're there, it can be a treasure trove or a gateway to hardship. Almost all buyers regard it as the former. But for dragons put up for sale, the door swings both ways.

Vanessa came to the Auction House as a hatchling. Along with her brother, she watched as dragons came and went, some of them happy, others looking particularly morose. It was rare for dragons to be purchased as a group, and she knew she and her brother would be separated soon.

His time came. He was offered a new home, and he went away with his new clan. Vanessa sat where she was, quiet now, waiting, and honestly very scared.

The dragon who approached her was a Skydancer, like herself -- a female with a white-splotched hide. Most buyers at the Auction House were interested in adults, but this Skydancer paid careful attention to the hatchlings, looking them over, talking with them and -- if they allowed it -- patting them gently on their heads. Vanessa watched, entranced, and she stood up in the holding pen, bracing her front paws against the rail. The movement attracted the adult Skydancer, and she turned and smiled at Vanessa. And she asked if Vanessa was all right.

It was a unique question. Vanessa paused and actually considered it. Most buyers, when meeting potential clanmates or exaltees, tended to ask the same questions: "What is your name?" "How old are you?" "Do you have any combat experience?"

And so it took Vanessa a little while to say, quite honestly, "I think so."

The Skydancer introduced herself: she was Iomedae. Vanessa struggled with the name. It was difficult for her to pronounce it. Iomedae laughed and patiently practiced with her until she got it right.

The day was drawing to a close. Up and down the street, the auctioneers lit lamps to keep their business going. The dragons settled down for the night, the hatchlings clumping together to stay warm. Vanessa, having been alone for the past few hours, wrapped her tail and wings around herself.

Sornieth's auction house is interesting in that there is no bidding. The seller offers a price, and the buyer pays the required amount. Now Iomedae, the buyer, looked down at Vanessa, and she counted the money she had. She took the seller's offer, and she brought Vanessa home.



Vanessa giggled at the name: Featherbutt Rescue. It sounded very silly.

It was a cheerful place. Most of the tenants were adult dragons, and so Vanessa was handed off to an exotic-looking Skydancer, Nissa, whom Iomedae introduced as the foundation's matron. Vanessa looked around the creche, searching for other hatchlings, but there were none.

"Where are the other babies?"

Nissa gently explained to her that many dragons who came here were already adults who had been sent to find new clans. Most of them were unsure what to do; others struggled with the fact that they had been made to leave.

They could stay as long as they wanted. Those who came to the lair as hatchlings, like Vanessa, were kept until they were grown. Then they were put on a team and brought to the Coliseum for combat training.

Vanessa's hackles went up. Skydancers by nature didn't like to fight. Nissa understood this, and she smoothed Vanessa's striped mane, explaining it was necessary. Dragons with combat experience could find a good home more quickly.

"Also, you have to be ready for anything," said Volatilus, the co-founder of the Rescue. He smiled as he said it, absently grooming his headfeathers with one claw. Vanessa waited for him to elaborate, and then she prodded him, "Ready for what?"

"Well, anything, like I said. You never know where you might end up."

By then, Vanessa was on the verge of adulthood. She would be starting combat training soon.

But in the meantime, she remained with Nissa, caring for the hatchlings who arrived at the Rescue, and getting to know the other adults better. Some of them were a great deal older than she was. One of the oldsters clarified gravely, "You may find a loving home...or you may be accepted into the service of a deity. You can't be a slouch either way. Wherever you go, be ready to defend yourself. Defend your new clan!"

Vanessa took those words to heart, and she thought them over carefully. A few days later, she was sent to train at the Coliseum.

Days passed. Vanessa became more adept at combat, although truth be told, her heart was never in it. Perhaps it was because of the similarity in their names, but Vanessa found herself emulating Nissa, the matron. She was more comfortable at the Rescue, caring for the other dragons, seeing that they had what they needed. This didn't go unnoticed. When she reached a certain level in combat, the founders looked at her carefully. Her training at the Coliseum stopped, and she stayed full-time at the Rescue, caring for the other tenants and giving them comfort. She was especially patient with the hatchlings, who were often as sad or scared as she had once been.

A bright purple Guardian appeared at the door of the Rescue one day. She was young, and the golden paint across her face couldn't hide her harried expression. Her voice was loud and bright, too, though she sounded worried.

"See, it's like this," she began tiredly, speaking to Iomedae, "we were entrusted with the care of three hatchlings. They're lovely and absolutely adorable, and my brother's given them all his old toys, but they...well, they won't stop crying." She let out a deep huff, and then her head drooped so low, her nose almost brushed the floor. "I almost wish we hadn't agreed to it."

Iomedae soothed her, saying that there was no need for that, and all hatchlings are gifts, especially those entrusted from another clan. The purple Guardian raised her head again. "Aye. My mother says the same thing." She seemed to draw strength from the Piebald Skydancer, and then she recalled why she was there: "We are looking for a dragon who specializes in childcare. A babysitter...or maybe the right term is 'matron', since it'll be a permanent position. We've heard that you also care for hatchlings, and so...could you refer someone to us? Anyone is fine, really. We're a small, new clan, but they would have a good home with us. We live on Sundial Terrace, in the domain of Light."

Iomedae asked a few more questions, but they were formalities, really. She had been given most of the important details already, and already had someone in mind.

Not long later, Vanessa was called in for an interview with the Guardian.


The purple Guardian's name was Neira, and the clan had been founded by her parents. Neira's clan was small, and almost all of the dragons were already grown. They had recently concluded an alliance with another clan in the Southern Icefields, and the clan had sent three hatchlings over as a gesture of goodwill. They had arrived a few days ago, bewildered and miserable. Vanessa felt a surge of sympathy for them. She had come from the Sunbeam Ruins, but the three youngsters were very far from home.

Neira scooted away almost as soon as they arrived at the lair. She went to curl up next to her sister, who was fast asleep. This left their brother, a morose-looking Guardian named Gyordan, to introduce Vanessa to her new charges.

The hatchlings' cave was large and spacious, and Vanessa stepped carefully over the toys strewn on the floor. The hatchlings themselves huddled despondently together in one nest. They were still small, not more than a few days old. They looked anxious and sad.

Gyordan walked over. His expression remained sour, but with great care and gentleness he picked up each hatchling, settling them together on the stone floor in front of Vanessa. A green Skydancer named Palmyrrh. A floppy-crested Mirror named Malkiriam. And Hiveriel, a small and fluffy blue Tundra. Gyordan gestured to Vanessa, telling the hatchlings that she would be caring for them from now on and then, obviously uncomfortable, he lumbered out.

The hatchlings stayed where they were. They blinked up at Vanessa with large, crystal-blue eyes. Vanessa looked down at them, and she said, rather wryly, "You're all so small. I hope you don't mind having a large hatchling like me sharing your cave."

The hatchlings blinked back. Malkiriam's crest went up. "Are you...a hatchling?" Her eyes blinked again, one pair after the other.

"A very, very big one! I come from another clan, like you."

Hiveriel's gaze dropped. "They gave us away."

"That's not true," Palmyrrh protested stubbornly. But even he didn't seem sure.

"They gave us away!" Hiveriel cried; he didn't seem angry, just distressed. He stamped his back feet in agitation.

"You were given away? I think that's wonderful. You were very lucky to come here."

The hatchlings gawped at this statement, and Malkiriam let out a long, hissy gasp. They watched as Vanessa walked over to the spare nest. She paused in front of it....It was big; it had obviously been made for a larger breed, perhaps one of the Guardian siblings. The stone shelf above it was empty, and Vanessa remembered Neira saying that her brother, Gyordan, had given all his toys away.

"You came to a good clan. There are a lot of bigger dragons here to take care of you, and they even gave you many toys to play with." She remembered Iomedae and Nissa, and the playful Volatilus. And even without someone to talk to, she'd always had something to take her mind off of things. Books, toys...Featherbutt Rescue's toys were all old and worn-down, but well-used. Well-loved.

"But we...want to go home," Palmyrrh said. He sounded as if he were admitting a great and terrible secret.

Hiveriel chimed in, more loudly, "Didn't they want us anymore?"

Vanessa answered, choosing her words very carefully, "It might have been difficult for them to take care of you."

"Only one of us was supposed to go. I heard them. They said. But they gave all three of us away."

"And your new clan agreed to take care of you, all three of you, even before they'd met you." The Auction House sprang to Vanessa's memory. She remembered her brother trotting after his new clan but looking back at her, many times, before disappearing into the crowd. How he'd been powerless to take her along, and how his new clan had been able to do nothing more than pat her on the head and wish her well. It had been a terrible time...

But it had not lasted long. By sunset, she'd found a brand-new home. And now here she was, in yet another lair. Getting bounced around like this, meeting new dragons and getting to care for them....It wasn't really all that bad.

"Your families loved you enough to send you away together. And you came here together, too. Have you made any new friends yet?"

"S...Some," Hiveriel mumbled back. He shifted uneasily. Malkiriam's crest drooped, and she looked up at Vanessa and softly asked, "But aren't you alone?"

"Not anymore," Vanessa said, and again, she smiled. How was her brother doing? Maybe she could reach out to him, see how he'd settled into his new clan....But for now...

"I'm not alone. I've got you. I'm a very big hatchling, and there's only one of me...but there are three of you! Let's take good care of each other, OK?"

"OK," Malkiriam and Hiveriel chorused -- a bit mechanically, it had to be said. It would take them some time to warm up.... "But then, it was the same for me, too," Vanessa reminded herself. She remembered Iomedae's kindness, Nissa's gentle care, and Volly's endless supply of jokes....

Something brushed against her leg, and she looked down. Palmyrrh, the green Skydancer, had picked up a toy, one of those demonic-looking unicorns on wheels. It wouldn't win any awards for Best Children's Toy, but the thought was there.

"Do you want to play?" he asked shyly. And, in that instant, Vanessa knew it would be all right. They all would.


Palmyrrh, Malkiriam, and Hiveriel. They were Vanessa's first charges when she first came to the Disillusionists' lair as a young, uncertain Skydancer. A babysitter. The older dragons used the term "matron", but Vanessa didn't mind "babysitter". She sat and cared for the children who came to the lair -- and indeed, there were more.

Palmyrrh and Malkiriam and Hiveriel grew up in their new clan. They came to understand why they had been sent there, and they slipped into their new roles with a purpose. They welcomed new dragons, adults and hatchlings alike, and showed them around the lair, introduced them to the clanmates. They were a definite upgrade from the shy Neira and unenthusiastic Gyordan, and most newcomers soon found themselves feeling right at home. But there were those who couldn't settle in right away, and they were turned over to Vanessa.

Now a fully-grown Skydancer, Vanessa has become more confident and adept at caring for her charges. She adopts the playful approach for the shy types (as she did all those years ago), or a more sympathetic touch for the sad and homesick ones. Occasionally, she tells her own story, of how she was once a frightened hatchling who had the great fortune to find a new home. First Featherbutt Rescue... "And now here," she says, giving the hatchling a poke. "Just like you. See? You're very lucky, too!"

The hatchling always relaxes, and they smile more and more each day, until they forget what they were so sad about in the first place. But Vanessa never forgets, and she uses her memories, her experiences, to reach out to the sad and the scared, to help them realize that being in a new clan isn't always a scary and terrible experience.

She has other memories, too, and they come in handy one day, though she would rather they didn't....

It's an overcast day. There are two new hatchlings in the clan. One of them, Nebuchadnezzar, was purchased from the Auction House. The other, Alberge, came directly from another lair. Although the two of them arrived at the clan at the same time, they have yet to learn how to get along, and so Vanessa has given them a chessboard to play with. Alberge, clearly the more intelligent of the two, is a natural and wins games in quick succession. Nebuchadnezzar quickly grows weary of this and he starts looking around.

It's he who notices the approaching stranger. "Vanessa...Vanessa..." He lifts his snout and points. Vanessa looks.

Among the rocky crags and the trees of the Terrace, a large, bright shape is moving. It was hidden in the gloom, but now the sun burns through the clouds. A beam of light strikes the shape.

It's a Guardian, and his scales gleam like a mirror -- or a cut and polished diamond. His wings are darker crystal. All over him are chips of lighter stone, moon-colored flashes of Gembond. He is a stranger, and his eyes are crystal-blue. Ice eyes, like those of Vanessa's first charges -- but with no warmth or gentleness in them.

Vanessa's striped mane bristles. The orb upon her brow throbs, warning of danger. The hatchlings, sensing trouble, scoot behind her.

"Good afternoon," says the Guardian. He has a low, deep voice, as deceptively lazy as a coiled-up snake. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

"You're a stranger to these parts," Vanessa snaps back. No playfulness and sympathy anywhere in her now; she is remembering lessons of combat, lessons learned in the Coliseum....She doesn't like the way he was sneaking up on them, concealed among the rocks; if not for the sun, he would be upon them now. And then...And then what?

A voice drifts into her mind. It's one of the older tenants of Featherbutt Rescue, telling her: "Wherever you go, you have to be ready to defend yourself. Defend your new clan!"

"I've been wandering these parts for some time, and I must say you've got a nice lair here. It's so spacious." The Guardian flexes idly, and his talons gleam in the sun. "I'm just passing through...though I might stay, if it takes my fancy."

"I was not told we were expecting guests. I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to leave." Vanessa's voice is now cool and firm. She has had to discipline a few hatchlings up to now -- and she can be very stern when she has to be.

The Guardian is having none of it. His cold eyes narrow. "You aren't being very nice...."

A shadow falls over him, and once more his scales are as dull as tarnished steel. His voice dies in his throat as he looks up.

"I don't have to be nice. It's for your own good," Vanessa snaps, a split-second before they hear a shattering roar. Alerted by the sentries, the rest of the clan appears, and the progenitors soar down to confront the Guardian. Vanessa smiles grimly to herself even as she ushers the hatchlings to safety.

She has trained in the Coliseum and believes she is ready for anything. But she was brought here as a caregiver, not a fighter. This is not her problem now. She makes sure the hatchlings are out of the way and hunkers protectively over them. They peer out, craning forward like the rest of the clan, as the progenitors stalk forward to confront the intruder.

Volatilus' voice rings in Vanessa's mind... "You have to be ready for anything."

Combat. Caregiving. They do have some similarities. Vanessa knows which one she prefers. She likes caregiving a lot better than fighting. And she's a lot better at it, too.

Day #1 Prompt wrote: Pick a dragon from your Lair who likes attending winter carnival every year. Write about them inviting a friend with them, ànd what activities they enjoyed doing. Feel free to post what dragon you chose for the carnival, with your writing. Snow was a rarity in the Sunbeam Ruins, where the sun blazed nearly every day. Vanessa, having been born and reared there, had always thought of it as some exotic substance, like stardust from the Arcanist's lands or the pale grains that made up the Shifting Expanse's desert. Furthermore, while most babysitters fuel their charges' imaginations with stories, for Vanessa, it'd been the exact opposite: Her first three charges were hatchlings from the Southern Icefield, and she'd been entranced by their tales of soaring ice peaks, auroras lighting up the night, and of course, snow.

The hatchlings had been anxious about living in a new land at first, but Vanessa had guided them up and down the steps of Mirrorlight Promenade and told them stories about the ruins. The children, aching for home, had listened closely to her tales, immersed themselves willingly in their bright new world. Those stories, tales of fantastic creatures and heroic dragons, had made it easier for them to settle into their new clan.

It was they who convinced the clan leaders to let Vanessa accompany them to the Winter Carnival -- her very first. Once there, the Skydancer had been entranced by...well, everything. It was just as the kids had described: soaring peaks, glittering ice, auroras lighting up the heavens...and snow! Of course there was snow! It was fluffy and clean and absolutely begging to be played with....

That snowball fight was a first for her, too. Afterwards, she wandered from stall to stall to experience the wonders of the carnival. This time it was her young charges who guided her, as eager to share their home with her as she'd shared hers with them.

These days, Vanessa has new charges. The original three hatchlings have grown and assumed responsibilities of their own. But every year when the frost closes in, they take Vanessa and the hatchlings to the Southern Icefield to experience the carnival in all its fun and delight. Hatchlings grow up and get jobs, have families...but the pull of home and the wonders that await there never really go away.

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Credits & Notes:
* Featherbutt Rescue (now closed) was founded by Lunartwist, who also owns Iomedae, Nissa, and Volatilus. I adopted Vanessa from them. (Thank you for letting me include your dragons, Lunartwist!)
* I made the dividers myself. The element is Spirit, from Runestones of the Arcanist.
* Review by gardenvoir