BlueStar

---

The caravan had been traveling all day and now, as the night descended, its pace slowed markedly. Strange lights flickered behind the windows, and from behind them came voices, bursts of magic—

With a loud “EEK!” the mana thief blew apart. For such a small insect, it produced a startling explosion: bolts of pink electricity arced across the room, thudding against the magic-tempered walls. They barely missed the heads of the Danse Macabre, all of whom were already well-versed in such procedures.

“Another one gone. My, Star, you have a lot of magic brewing within you today,” purred a masked Wildclaw. Or at least she looked like a Wildclaw. She gathered up the remains of the mana thief, and as her claws came into contact with them, they blurred, briefly showing dark, slim hands.

The rest of the troupe leaned forward expectantly. The object of their attention, a Skydancer, couldn’t help grimacing. His magic was normally visible as sparkling motes swirling around him, but now it coursed over him in waves, like light reflected off rippling water. The heavy iron adornments he wore actually shivered as they struggled to contain the excess energy.

“Come on, Maria, have you got any more?”

“More mana thieves? But Blue Star, that was the last one we had!” Maria crushed the dead insect between her claws, and as she did, her outline blurred. There was a brief glimpse of a luxurious purple mane, of rows of sharp silver teeth.

Expectant looks were passed around the troupe. Blue Star could almost see the wheels grinding in their heads. He knew what was coming next; it was nice of them to wait for him to suggest it, though.

“Maybe I could just...have a rehearsal, then? Something to burn off all this excess energy.” He forced a smile onto his face.

His companions nodded back. A rehearsal sounded good. Even if this one would most likely end unpleasantly, like all the others had.

“I’ll prepare the amplifiers.”

“I’ll put up the wards.”

There was a stream of musical notes from a corner, where an old Imperial bent over a colossal, dark piano. As the lantern light washed over her scales, they seemed to shimmer, like a heatwave around a slimmer, slighter form. The other dragons similarly looked blurry, unsteady, as if at any moment they might fling off their hides like tattered cloaks and spread otherworldly wings.

Blue Star began removing his adornments. They were heavy, and for each one he shed, he felt more and more as though he would drift up into space. He looked out the window at the starry sky, wondered what it would feel like to fall into that infinite blackness. The urge to dance practically carried him after his comrades, who were hastily tamping down the grass to create a sort of stage. The magic within him wouldn’t be denied, and it whispered alluringly to him, telling him to “Dance, dance, dance...”

~ ~ ~
Perhaps there were some clues to be found in his parentage, if only he had known his mother and father better. He had faint memories of white mountains standing clear-cut against a starry sky, a pale face and gentle paws. And snow, felt rather than seen, crunching beneath his feet. He struggled through fierce winds that were more ice than air, crying out for someone he couldn’t quite remember anymore.

His earliest days existed only in fragmented memories. Perhaps someday, magic would tease them out into the light and he would be brave enough to look at them more closely. But not now. Not now...

Those were the days when he first learned what he was. The word was fairy, light and ethereal, spreading prismatic wings. Wings that were bound shut by iron, fastened so tightly that they grew stunted and small. The iron wasn’t intended to weigh him down, however, heavy though it was. It was instead intended to suppress his magic.

The first dragons who took him in could barely touch him, for magic radiated off him in freezing waves, chilling them to the bone. They snatched back their paws, crying out in pain, and the hatchling fled into the blizzard again, flitting over the snow.

“A spirit, perhaps...a specter of frost?” They stared after him, for even Ice-born hatchlings will perish in a howling blizzard. Not him, however—he ran as if the ice itself gave him strength, the wind bearing him safely along even as it tore lairs apart.

Word spread with the fleetness only rumors and ghost stories can muster. The next clans that encountered him knew him for what he was, and that was when the chains arrived. They helped, in their way: dampened his fierce magic so that others could approach him without freezing. It seemed to be the only way to help him, and so it would have to suffice.

But eventually, it didn’t.

Fairy or dragon—one thing they shared was magic, and in Blue Star, it grew fast and strong. A few years later, rime spread across the chains, freezing them so completely that they shattered like glass. He lifted off the ground like a soap bubble, his wings and feet moving to a song only he could hear.

The dragons, frightened by this, pulled him down to earth again. More iron was added, more and more. Chains to pull his wings shut, rings around his tail. Cuffs and collars on his neck and feet.

The story was always the same: The iron beat the magic back, lulling it to sleep. It blistered Blue Star’s skin at first, but over time, as the scars healed, he grew tougher until he no longer felt the pain. He became stronger as his muscles labored beneath the weight of all that ironmongery. As his body strengthened, so too did his magic. And every time it reached new heights, it broke the iron apart.

The entire time, the dance was calling. It surged through Blue Star, who was perhaps more fairy than dragon, and it stirred his blood. Eventually he was strong enough to break away. He danced into the future, away from cages and chains, no longer noticing the weight of the iron upon him.

~ ~ ~
The Danse Macabre was a troupe that traveled through the wilder regions of Sornieth. They introduced themselves as humble performers, something of a cross between a theater and a circus, but those who saw them spoke of them only in trembling whispers. Frightened not so much by the shows, but of the troupe themselves and what exactly they were.

Blue Star had fit right in. The iron had failed to extinguish the dancing instinct all fairies have, and he had soon become known as “The One with a Thousand Dances”. But while the iron hadn’t maimed him, it had still left some lasting effects. His magic had grown powerful in its attempts to throw the shackles off, and although Blue Star was no longer chained, it still raged within him. It was like a beast that had been imprisoned for so long that it had been driven mad by freedom.

And so while he overflowed with magic, it was dangerous to approach him. Blue Star’s fellow performers stayed well away from him as he strode towards the meadow. They did so with grandiose bows and flourishes, but make no mistake, the entire time they were avoiding him.

A mint-green Spiral slithered alongside him. “Have you decided whose composition you’ll dance to yet?”

“Mm, it was a toss-up between Farkas’ classical stuff and Funeral’s swing music. They flipped a coin, and Funeral won. I also asked Blight, but he’s not done with his latest work yet.”

“What about Orchestra?”

Blue Star winced. “Are you crazy, Isabar? We won’t be able to shut her up once she gets started!”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Isabar’s grin faded as he leaned in. “We, uh, might have to resort to that anyway, you know.”

“You don’t need to remind me. Erm, can we get started? I feel like my head will explode.”

With Blue Star, the troupe couldn’t be entirely sure it was just a figure of speech. Isabar flipped backwards through the air, landing in a neat coil in the center of the meadow. The rest of the troupe gathered around.

Isabar flashed an ingratiating smile. He put on his best announcer voice and boomed, “Dragonesses and drakes, welcome to our newest show! We’re pleased to introduce our very own—our bright and shining—Blue Star, the One with a Thousand Dances!”

The troupe clapped and whistled, playing the part of an enthusiastic (and unwitting) audience. One of them obligingly turned a lantern upon Blue Star, illuminating him as though he were onstage.

Normally there was a spiel of some sort, a short introduction to drum up the crowd, but they didn’t need that here. Funeral waved his claws to indicate that he was ready, and Isabar backflipped out of the way. Blue Star took center stage at last.

The music started: Strange instruments generated by machines, lively and swooping sounds. Many of the Danse Macabre were talented composers, and Funeral’s forte was electro swing, inspired by recent trends from the Shifting Expanse.

It was energetic, electrifying music, and it surged through Blue Star like a lightning bolt. He sprang into the air, his stunted wings spread wide. And when he came back down, he hit the ground dancing.

The troupe cheered him on, stamping their feet and waving their paws. Smiles gleamed on their faces, but their eyes were sharp; they knew what was coming next.

The deeper Blue Star drowned in the music, the stronger his magic surged. It strained to break free, wrapping his body in a luminous cocoon...and suddenly, it erupted.

Crack! A bolt of magic broke away from him, zigzagging through the air. It slammed against the wards the troupe had set up earlier.

“That’s it, you’re shedding the magic! Keep going, Star!”

The fairy danced. His was a strange moveset, a mixture of the intricate steps of the fey folk and dances copied from dragonkind. His energy drained as time swept past, and as it did, more bolts of magic burst forth. They hit the force fields, showering sparks onto the troupe, and the glamours dropped free at last.

The troupe continued to applaud, but they weren’t dragons now. Isabar continued turning loops upon his legless tail, and Maria grinned, her silvery teeth stretching halfway around her head. Pluto pranced on four hoofed as she clapped her dainty hands. Farkas and Funeral spread gigantic, moth-like wings.

And beyond them, the other members of the troupe were dimly glimpsed as well. Dark, blurry forms, so dark and blurry...Blue Star’s head reeled. He was exhausted now. It seemed that he blinked, and the stars were suddenly in different positions overhead.

The Skydancer wearily looked down at himself. He’d gotten rid of the worst of the magic, but there were still some sparks glittering upon his skin. He had to drain himself completely. If he quit now, the magic would just build up again.

But he was tired, so tired.... “Got any...mana thieves left?” he panted.

The rest of the troupe looked at each other. Their smiles were gone now. Blue Star tried to reassure them, but he couldn’t manage that either.

Still, he couldn’t give up now. He cleared his parched throat. “The...fever fly...then?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then the troupe parted. Oozing between them was a spindly creature. In its knife-like hands, it held a big glass jar. Fever flies buzzed inside, their eyes glittering like sapphires.

The creature unscrewed the cap, and Blue Star briefly looked into its face. It was a nightmare, its vertical mouth bristling with needle-sharp teeth. But it met his gaze with eyes that held only sympathy.

Blue Star managed to smile back at last, and he thrust one forepaw into the jar. He felt a fly stab its proboscis into him. Heat swept over him like a breaking wave...and once again, the dance began.

~ ~ ~
The fever fly was the troupe’s last resort: When Blue Star couldn’t drain himself of excess magic on his own, they used the fly to stimulate him into continuing to dance. He did so until he collapsed, all energy and magic exhausted at last.

He always lay in a fever for a few days after this happened. When he finally regained consciousness, the troupe was on the move again. He looked out the window, saw fleecy clouds and a bright blue sky.

“All right there?” Funeral asked. It was evidently his turn to look after Blue Star now, and he was wearing his glamour again. He looked no different from an ordinary Skydancer, except perhaps, if Blue Star squinted out of the corner of his eye, he could see bifurcated, moth-like wings....

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. Good rehearsal, though. Thanks to you, I had a chance to preview my latest composition. I think it needs more work...”

Blue Star nodded tiredly. They’d come to frame his magic-draining dances as rehearsals, using them as opportunities to practice their own music and shows. He had to admit he liked that a lot better than them just staring at him and doing nothing.

“We’re coming up to the next town. No show there; we’ll just replenish our supplies, and then we’ll leave. Why don’t you take a walk later on? Get some fresh air.”

Hours later, the caravan was parked just outside the town, and the troupe was eating lunch together. In their glamours, they were indistinguishable from the rest of the populace, who approached them without fear. Some of the townsdrakes were examining the carts; a few hatchlings raced past, trailed by a small, sparkling creature.

Blue Star blinked after them. “Was that a familiar? I’ve never seen that one before.”

“Mm, it’s a magic nymph,” purred Pluto. “They’re fairly rare.”

“Like those sprites? Must be pretty expensive then.”

“Not quite...They’re very useful, however. They harvest magic for the dragons they bond with.”

Blue Star’s haggard mind slowly struggled back to alertness. He processed Pluto’s words: It harvests magic...

“Are they from the Starfall Isles?”

“So we’ve been told.” The troupe looked at him. Understanding dawned in their eyes as they realized what he was thinking. “Sounds like a trip there might be in order, right?”

Even before he replied, they were grinning. By nightfall, the Danse Macabre were on their way again, heading towards the Starfall Isles.

It would be a long journey, and there would probably be a few times when Blue Star would need to purge himself of excess magic again. But what would have been an otherwise torturous process didn’t seem so hard now. At the end of the journey lay a possible solution—and until then, he had his friends to cheer him on.

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
all edits by other users


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5SsXt4-RS0

Magic Nymph
A creature of uncommon intellect. It harvests magic for its patron.

Mana Thief
This vampiric insect glows with magical energy siphoned from other living creatures.


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