Tiny Embers & Shiny Things (TWoWCU Book 5)
LITTLE TERRORS
Chaos. It was pure chaos but in the best way. Cards were everywhere- and not for the first time.
Six little pocket dragons flew around in a frenzy. Ashura, the daughter of Felix and Wren was giggling wildly at their shenanigans. Felix had his backside in a water barrel because his pants had been on fire.
They weren't sure exactly what set the small critters off, but the little dragons had started zooming around the camp, scales glittering in the sunlight.
One got trapped in some laundry that hung on the line. Another had scattered Felix's deck almost immediately. One had been perched behind Felix and accidentally sneezed fire. The other three seemed to have been spurred on by the conundrum, and just started flying around, grabbing anything they could find.
Ashura was squealing with delight. Now about three years old, the little girl with dark hair trailing behind her, ran after the pocket dragons with unbridled glee. Felix had been on babysitting duty. Wren had an appointment to keep at her Healer's Shop.
"What-" She couldn't find the words.
Wren had stepped out of the wagon, having returned through the pocket dimension door, finding her baby chasing the flying hooligans, and Felix with his tush in a barrel. He was stuck.
"HEY!" She yelled.
The Dragons knew that voice all too well. She had brought out the Mom Voice before. They all stopped. One on the ground, peeking out the leg hole of a pair of trousers, the others suspended in flight. Ashura was completely unphased, as most toddlers are. One of the dragons that had stopped was within her reach, and the little girl had grabbed it and started hugging it mercilessly.
The little dragon looked at Wren with wide eyes and a look that said, 'Help me...' She sighed and rescued the small purple dragon from her daughters grip. It chittered what could've been a thank you and quickly flew to the roof of one of the wagons, well out of Ashura's reach.
Then Wren turned to Felix. He was clearly embarrassed, and almost couldn't look her in the eye.
"So," she said slowly, "Babysitting now involves sitting in a barrel of water?"
He looked like he wanted to say something. To defend is wounded pride, but there were no words.
Then Wren started laughing. Loud hard full belly laughs.
"Wren," Felix said, "Please..."
She continued laughing but reached for his hand and yanked him out of the water barrel. Without a word Felix started walking towards their wagon. His pants were soaked and there was a small scorched hole.
Wren scooped up the still giggling toddler and kissed her chubby cheek fondly.
"Come on, Little One," Wren said, her voice softened with love, "Time to go inside."
She started towards the wagon, carrying her child. Ashura watched the pocket dragons over her mother's shoulder. They followed behind Wren, in a little line of unorganized chaos.
The wagons rolled into a coastal town the following day. They needed supplies, and had heard that Tidal Town had a bustling Market. As the wagons clacked down the cobbled street, Wren watched the scenery drift by outside the window.
The houses were neat and tidy, painted in bright shades of blue and teal and pale yellow. The sea lapped lazily along the docks. The Market of Tidal Town was huge, a busy cluster of bodies and booths. People called out their wares and exchanged them for coin.
Wren looked down at Ashura, napping with the pocket dragons curled up around her- eyes closed and dreaming. She was glad the little terrors were sleeping. All the shiny coins would be far too tempting, and Wren didn't feel like chasing them today.
The wagon stopped and Wren stood up carefully. She didn't want to wake the baby or the dragons. She slipped quietly outside.
Felix hopped down from the front seat and smiled at her. He offered her his arm and together they went into the busy market. They felt safe with the knowledge that Rosey would watch the children while the others were away.
Ashura rolled over in her sleep, disturbing the ring of sleeping dragons. The little girl was fast asleep. She didn't hear their startled squeaks and their groans of indignation.
Twilight stretched and kneaded her claws like a cat. Glimmer stretched out a wing like a chicken. Ember hopped up and down, angry at having been awakened. Shimmer and Moss looked around bleary eyed and Spark shook his whole body like a dog shaking off moisture.
Now wide awake, Glimmer flew up to the window sill, pale gold scales gleaming in the light that shined through. She looked out the window, tilting her head with curiosity. She saw the coins.
She squeaked excitedly and quick as a flash the other dragons were beside her on the windowsill. It didn't take them long to realize that the window was cracked open. And they did exactly as Wren had imagined they would.
No one noticed the tiny dragons leave the wagon. Rosey was humming to herself, focused on patching up Felix's pants. Vigil was busy with the Trotters. The others had gone into the Market.
The pocket dragons flew together like a flock of shiny birds and then they scattered.
ALL THAT GLITTERS & JINGLES
He weaved through the Market like a snake in the grass. Fin had done this many times before.
"Excuse me, Sir," he said, approaching a portly gentleman.
The man eyed the skinny kid suspiciously. He took in his messy hair and worn clothes.
"What do you want, Lad?" The portly man asked. "I ain't got nothin' for ya so skedaddle!"
"Why, Sir," Fin said as brightly and politely as he could, "I only wanted to ask about the weather. My father's out to sea. Will we be having good weather?"
The man looked out at the water, at the sky along the horizon.
"Twil' be fair weather by my sight, son. Now scoot!"
Fin bowed dramatically, and smiled broadly. "Thank you, Sir."
The portly man watched the kid disappear into the crowd, running as fast as his skinny legs could carry him. Instinctively the man reached for his coin bag at the side of his belt- there was only air there now. The man looked around frantically, but the boy was gone, melted into the shadows and the throng of shoppers and shop owners. Gone. And so was his coin bag.
Fin snickered as he tossed the coin bag in his hand. He listened to the jingle of coin within. Music to his ears.
Fin found a quiet spot- or atleast as quiet as he could manage - and sat down on the stone stoop of one of the nearby houses. He opened the bag. For a moment he just stared. Then he tipped the contents of the bag into his other hand.
Three worn metal pins. Dented and scratched with faded paint.
Looking to his right Fin saw a whole booth full of them. Just cheap pins you could find anywhere. If he took this to a Fence or the Black market, they would laugh until they turned blue.
Fin tossed the pins and the bag into the street. Either no one noticed or they didn't care. People continued on about their business.
"Junk," Fin mumbled to himself, "Just junk."
It was at that moment something shiny caught his eye. It wasn't coin. It was alive and moving fast. He watched as the little copper dragon flew down and landed near the discarded coin bag.
In all of Fin's sixteen years of life, he'd never seen anything like it. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it.
Ember eyed the pins like a jeweler inspecting something precious. Then he chirped happily, picked up one of the pins with his tiny clawed paws, and flew off with his newfound treasure.
The others were nearby. They were raiding the booths with quiet precision. Unnoticed, they flew off with coins, small gemstones, and other shiny things of lesser value- a glass saltshaker, a small bell, and even a shiny fork.
They found an empty alley and started a collection pile. Their hoard was growing bigger by the minute.
Fin watched in disbelief as the tiny dragons plundered the market. He followed them and found their tiny hoard of coin and miscellaneous items. A thought hatched in his mind. He had to tell the others.
Fin sprinted back to the docks, weaving through the crowd until he reached the ship—a weathered vessel with patched sails and a crew that didn't ask too many questions.
He found the captain on deck, a grizzled woman with salt-streaked hair and a scar across her jaw.
"Cap'n!" Fin panted. "I found somethin'. Tiny dragons—real ones—stealin' from the market. Fast as lightning and they love shiny things."
The captain raised an eyebrow. "Dragons?"
"Aye! Small enough to fit in your hand, but they're good. Better thieves than any of us. If we catch 'em, we could use 'em. Think about it—they could slip into anywhere, grab what we need, and no one'd suspect a thing."
The captain considered this, then grinned. "Show me."
THE TRAP
Fin led a handful of crew members back to the alley where the dragons had stashed their hoard. They pooled together every shiny thing they had—coins, broken jewelry, bits of colored glass, a tarnished spoon, even a cracked mirror. They piled it all in a wooden crate and set it near the dragons' growing collection.
Then they waited.
It didn't take long.
Glimmer spotted it first. Her pale gold scales caught the light as she swooped down, chittering excitedly. The others followed in a glittering rush—Ember, Twilight, Spark, Moss, and Shimmer, all diving towards the crate like moths to a flame.
The pirates lunged for the lid.
The dragons panicked.
Spark sneezed a jet of flame that scorched the side of the crate. Ember flapped wildly, knocking coins everywhere. Twilight shrieked, her purple scales flashing as she darted upwards. Moss collided with a barrel, sending it crashing to the ground. Shimmer's wings fanned the flames, and suddenly the crate was on fire.
Smoke billowed through the alley. The pirates coughed and swatted at the air, trying to grab anything—dragons, loot, it didn't matter.
"Get 'em!" one pirate shouted.
"I can't see!" another yelled.
Glimmer shot through a gap in the crate and disappeared into the smoke. The others followed, scattering in every direction.
Felix had been searching the market for the pocket dragons. Wren had noticed they were missing, and he'd volunteered to track them down before they caused too much trouble.
He heard the commotion before he saw it—shouting, the crash of barrels, the unmistakable sound of dragon shrieks.
He rounded the corner into the alley just as the smoke hit him.
"What in the—"
Something heavy and rough dropped over his head. A sack. He struggled, twisting, but there were too many of them. He tried to yell, but it was lost in the noise and confusion.
"Got one!" someone shouted.
"Back to the ship! Move!"
Felix felt himself being lifted, carried. He kicked and thrashed, but the grip didn't loosen. His voice was muffled by the sack, his protests lost in the chaos.
The pirates didn't stop running until they reached the docks. They hauled their prize onto a rowboat and shoved off, rowing hard towards the ship anchored in the harbor.
Only when they were safely aboard and below deck did the captain yank the sack open.
Felix glared up at her, singed coat smoking slightly, rhinestones glinting in the dim light.
There was a long silence.
"That's... not a dragon," Fin said slowly.
The captain stared. "No. No, it's not."
Felix brushed soot off his sleeve and looked around at the pirates staring at him in horror.
"Well," Felix said dryly, "this is awkward."
CAPTURED
Felix tried to run as the Pirate Captain called her Crew every name under the sun. He didn't make it far. They hauled him to the brig and locked him in, then reluctantly went back to face their grumpy Captain, still swearing up a storm.
Felix sighed, his hands on his hips, then fished a lockpick out of his coat pocket. He was glad that he had a habit of keeping them with him, just in case. It had been awhile since he'd picked a lock, but after awhile of fiddling around he heard the satisfying click and the door swung open.
Felix burst onto the deck and immediately regretted it.
Fire licked at the sails. Pirates shouted and ran in every direction, swatting at tiny dragons that dive-bombed them with alarming precision. A barrel rolled across the deck, trailing smoke. Someone was screaming about their hat.
Felix spotted Ember perched on the mast, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Twilight swooped past, purple scales flashing. Glimmer and Spark were tangled together mid-air, wrestling over what looked like a brass button.
"Of course," Felix muttered.
He whistled—sharp and clear.
Four dragons immediately swarmed to him. Ember landed on his shoulder, chittering proudly. Twilight perched on his head. Glimmer Anderson Spark clung to his coat, their tiny claws catching on the rhinestones.
Felix didn't wait. He ran for the rail, vaulted over it, and hit the water.
The cold shocked the breath out of him, but he surfaced quickly, the dragons flapping and shrieking indignantly around him. He struck out for shore, the dragons following in a chaotic, glittering cloud.
Behind him, the pirates were too busy fighting flames to notice.
By the time the crew got the fires under control, the sun was setting and the ship was drifting.
"Captain!" one of the pirates shouted. "The anchor line—it burned through!"
The captain swore and looked up. The sail had unfurled in the chaos, catching the wind. They were moving.
"Well, don't just stand there—trim the sails! Get us under control!"
Fin climbed into the rigging to help and froze.
Two tiny dragons were tangled in the lines, wings caught, exhausted and struggling weakly. One was green, the other blue. They looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.
"Cap'n!" Fin called down. "We've still got two of 'em!"
The captain looked up, then grinned slowly.
"Well then. Looks like we're in business after all." She turned to the crew. "Set course. We've got treasure to find, and now we've got the help we need."
Moss and Shimmer chittered weakly, too tired to fight.
Felix dragged himself onto the dock, soaking wet and covered in soot. The four dragons shook themselves off, flicking their paws like wet cats, spraying water everywhere.
Wren was waiting, arms crossed, relief and exasperation warring on her face.
"Felix—"
"I know," he said, wringing out his coat. "I know."
She looked at the dragons, then back at him. "Where are the other two?"
Felix's stomach dropped. He looked at the dragons. Counted. One, two, three, four.
"Moss and Shimmer," he said quietly.
The four dragons chittered anxiously, looking back toward the harbor. Ember took off, flying a few feet towards the water, then circling back. Twilight did the same. They were agitated, distressed.
Wren's expression hardened. "They took them."
Felix nodded. "The ship was drifting when I left. By now..."
"By now they could be anywhere," Wren finished.
Glimmer landed on Wren's shoulder, pressing her tiny head against Wren's cheek. The little dragon made a soft, mournful sound.
Wren touched her gently. "We'll find them," she promised.
Back at the wagons, the Troupe assembled. Mender, Lyric, Lumina, Vigil, Rosey, Rev—everyone.
"We need to find that ship," Wren said. "They have Moss and Shimmer."
"How?" Lyric asked. "They could be miles away by now."
Felix stepped forward. The four remaining dragons were perched on his shoulders and arms, restless and anxious. "They can feel them," he said quietly. "Look."
Ember kept launching into the air, flying towards the open water, then circling back. Twilight did the same. Glimmer and Spark chittered and paced, their eyes fixed on the horizon.
"They know where their siblings are," Felix said. "They can sense them."
"But we can't follow dragons across the open ocean," Rev pointed out.
Felix met Wren's eyes. "No. But I can help."
He closed his eyes, focusing. His luck magic was wild, unpredictable—but it could create coincidences, nudge probability in the right direction. He reached for it now, shaping it carefully.
'What are the chances we find them? What are the chances the wind is favorable? What are the chances we cross paths with someone who's seen the ship?'
The magic hummed through him, chaotic and bright.
When he opened his eyes, Wren was watching him.
"We'll need a boat," Felix said.
Forge stepped forward. "I know a Captain. Owes me a favor."
"Sounds like a plan," Wren said.
The four dragons chirped in agreement, their eyes fixed on the distant horizon where their siblings waited.
WIND AND WAVES
The group moved quickly through the darkening streets of Tidal Town, heading for the docks. The four dragons flew ahead, agitated and restless, their scales catching the last light of the setting sun.
Forge led the way, his heavy boots thudding against the cobblestones. He stopped at a weathered ship with patched sails and a name painted on the hull: The Wayward Gull.
A woman stood on deck, coiling rope. She looked up as Forge approached, her weathered face breaking into a grin.
"Forge! Didn't expect to see you in these parts."
"Captain Mara," Forge said, nodding. "I need a favor."
Her grin faded slightly. "The kind of favor that involves the debt I owe you?"
"Aye."
Mara sighed, setting down the rope. "What do you need?"
"A ship. Fast as you can sail her. We're tracking pirates."
Mara raised an eyebrow. "Pirates? What'd they take?"
Wren stepped forward, Glimmer perched on her shoulder. "Two of our dragons."
Mara blinked. "Dragons?"
As if on cue, Ember swooped down and landed on the ship's rail, chittering indignantly. Twilight and Spark circled overhead, their wings catching the fading light.
Mara stared. "Well. That's new."
"They can sense where their siblings are," Felix said. "And I can... help with the rest."
Mara looked at him, taking in the singed coat, the rhinestones, the determined set of his jaw. She looked back at Forge.
"You're calling in the favor for dragons?"
Forge crossed his arms. "I am."
Mara was quiet for a moment, then she laughed—a short, sharp bark of sound. "All right. A debt's a debt. Get aboard. We leave at first light."
"Now," Wren said firmly.
Mara met her eyes and saw something there that made her reconsider. "Now it is, then. Cast off the lines!"
They boarded quickly. Not everyone came—Rosey stayed behind with Ashura, Lyric and Lumina stayed to watch over their own children and give Rosey a break, Mender remained to keep an eye on the wagons, and Vigil stayed to tend the Trotters and other creatures. But Wren, Felix, Forge, and Rev climbed aboard, the four dragons settling on the rigging and rails.
As the ship pulled away from the dock, Ember launched into the air, flying out toward the open water. He circled back, chittering urgently.
"That way," Felix said, pointing.
Mara adjusted the wheel. "Hope you know what you're doing."
Felix closed his eyes, reaching for his luck magic. He felt it hum through him—wild, chaotic, but willing to be shaped.
'Favorable winds. Clear skies. A path that leads us to them.'
The sails snapped taut as the wind picked up, pushing them forward.
Mara's eyes widened. "Well. That's handy."
Felix opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "Let's hope it holds."
The wind held steady for the first hour. The Wayward Gull cut through the dark water smoothly, the four dragons flying ahead like scouts, circling back periodically to confirm the direction.
Felix stood at the rail, eyes closed, focusing on his luck magic. It hummed through him, wild and bright, shaping probability into something useful.
'Keep the wind favorable. Keep us on course. Lead us to Moss and Shimmer.'
"How long can you hold it?" Wren asked quietly, standing beside him.
"As long as I need to," Felix said, though his voice was tight with concentration.
Wren didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue.
Two hours in, the wind picked up.
"That's... a lot of wind," Mara said, gripping the wheel tighter.
The sails billowed, straining against the rigging. The ship lurched forward, cutting through the waves faster than before.
"Felix—" Wren started.
"I know!" Felix said, eyes still closed. "I'm trying to—"
The wind gusted harder. A rope snapped loose, whipping across the deck. Forge ducked just in time.
"Felix!" Forge bellowed.
Felix opened his eyes, sweat beading on his forehead. "It's not—I can't control it exactly, it just—"
The ship tilted sharply as a wave hit them broadside. Rev grabbed the rail to steady himself. The dragons shrieked and scattered, then regrouped, chittering anxiously.
"Ease off whatever you're doing!" Mara shouted.
Felix tried. He pulled back on the magic, shaping it smaller, gentler—
The wind died completely.
The sails went slack. The ship slowed, drifting.
"Or not that much!" Mara said, exasperated.
Felix groaned. "This is why I don't do this often."
"Maybe let the wind be natural for a bit?" Wren suggested gently.
Felix nodded, releasing the magic entirely. His shoulders sagged with relief.
The wind returned—normal, steady, manageable. Mara adjusted the sails and the ship moved forward again at a reasonable pace.
"Better," she muttered.
TINY EMBERS
After a time the wind had died again. Felix tried his Luck again and, blessedly, the wind became favorable once more.
Captain Mara's ship cut through the water with practiced ease, sails full and crew working in smooth coordination.
For about an hour.
Then Felix's luck ran out- again.
The wind that had been pushing them forward—unnaturally strong, unnaturally favorable—suddenly died. The sails went slack. The ship slowed to a crawl.
"Well," Mara said, looking at Felix with one raised eyebrow. "That was helpful while it lasted."
Felix winced. "Sorry. I can't control how long it holds."
"No apologies needed. We got a good head start." She turned to her crew. "Manual rowing stations! Let's keep moving!"
The crew groaned but obeyed, pulling out the long oars and settling into rhythm.
Forge joined them without being asked, his massive arms making the work look easy.
And the four pocket dragons, who had been relatively calm during the magical wind, immediately lost their minds.
Ember decided the oars looked like they needed to be on fire.
He dove towards the nearest rower, breathed a small jet of flame, and set the end of the oar alight.
"DRAGON!" the sailor yelped, dropping the oar and scrambling backward.
Wren lunged forward and grabbed Ember mid-flight. "No! Bad! We do NOT set the ship on fire!"
Ember squirmed in her grip, looking deeply offended.
Twilight, meanwhile, had discovered the ship's bell and was trying to steal the clapper. She tugged at it with her tiny claws, her purple-and-silver scales shimmering in the sunlight, completely ignoring the sailor trying to shoo her away.
"Get OFF!" the sailor said, waving his hat at her.
Twilight hissed and stole the hat instead.
Glimmer, the smallest, had somehow squeezed herself into a coil of rope on the deck and gotten completely tangled. She chirped pitifully, her pale gold scales barely visible in the mess of hemp.
Rev crouched down and carefully began untangling her. "How do you even manage this?" he muttered.
Glimmer trilled sadly.
And Spark—nervous, jittery Spark—kept sneezing tiny puffs of flame every time the ship rocked, which was constantly, because they were on a ship, on the ocean.
One of Mara's crew ducked as a small jet of fire shot past his head. "Captain, are the dragons supposed to do that?"
"Apparently," Mara said dryly, steering the ship with one hand and watching the chaos unfold. "Wren, can you control them?"
"I'm trying!" Wren said, now holding both Ember and Twilight (who was still clutching the stolen hat). "They're upset! They don't understand where Moss and Shimmer are!"
Spark sneezed again and set a bucket on fire.
Felix sighed and put it out.
"This is going to be a long journey," Mara muttered.
Three hours later, the dragons had finally exhausted themselves.
They huddled together in a corner of the deck, wings drooping, tails tangled, looking small and miserable. Occasionally one of them would chirp softly—a questioning sound, like they were calling for their missing siblings.
No one answered.
Wren sat down beside them, her heart aching. She gently stroked Glimmer's head, then Ember's, then Twilight's and Spark's.
"We're going to find them," she whispered. "I promise."
Ember tucked his head under his wing.
Twilight's tail twitched.
Spark made a soft, sad trill.
Glimmer pressed against Wren's hand, seeking comfort.
Rev crouched down beside her. "They know something's wrong."
"They know their family is missing," Wren said quietly. "And they don't understand why."
"We'll get them back," Rev said.
Wren nodded, blinking back tears. "We will."
The next morning, Mara's ship pulled into a small port town—barely more than a fishing village with a single dock and a handful of market stalls.
"We need to resupply," Mara announced. "We left Tidal Town in a hurry. My crew needs oranges if we're going to be at sea for any length of time. Scurvy's no joke."
"We'll help," Wren said.
"And keep those dragons under control," Mara added, eyeing the four pocket dragons who were now perched on the ship's railing, looking out at the town with intense curiosity.
"I'll do my best," Wren said.
She tried.
The moment they stepped into the marketplace, the dragons went wild.
Ember spotted a fruit cart and dove.
He snatched an apple, breathed fire on it mid-flight, and sent the flaming fruit arcing through the air like a tiny comet.
It landed in a basket of dried flowers.
Which immediately caught fire.
"EMBER, NO!" Wren shouted.
Felix was already running with a water bucket. He doused the flames, tossed the furious merchant a coin, and muttered, "Dragon problems."
The merchant did not look appeased.
Twilight, meanwhile, had discovered a jewelry stall.
She landed in the middle of a display of silver bracelets, grabbed three at once, and tried to fly away with them.
The jeweler grabbed her tail.
Twilight shrieked and dropped the bracelets, then immediately stole a necklace instead and bolted.
"TWILIGHT!" Wren chased after her.
Rev intercepted the dragon mid-flight, gently prying the necklace from her claws. He returned it to the jeweler with an apologetic nod and another coin.
Glimmer had found a potter's stall and squeezed herself into a decorative vase.
And gotten stuck.
The potter stared in disbelief as the tiny gold dragon wriggled and chirped, her tail sticking out of the vase's narrow opening.
Forge carefully lifted the vase, tilted it, and Glimmer tumbled out, looking embarrassed.
And Spark—poor, anxious Spark—got startled by a dog barking and sneezed a jet of flame directly at a fish cart.
The fish did not catch fire.
But the cart's awning did.
"I'VE GOT IT!" Felix yelled, already running with another bucket.
By the time Mara's crew had loaded the oranges and other supplies, the troupe had put out four fires, returned six stolen items, untangled Glimmer twice, and apologized to no fewer than nine merchants.
"Never again," Felix said, covered in soot and smelling like burnt fish.
"They're grieving," Wren said quietly, holding all four dragons in her arms. They looked exhausted and sad, their earlier chaos replaced by quiet misery.
Felix's expression softened. "I know. I'm sorry. I just—"
"I know," Wren said.
Mara walked over, arms crossed, looking at the four tiny dragons. "They miss their siblings."
"Yes," Wren said.
Mara's stern expression softened just slightly. "Then let's find them."
The troupe had been given a small cabin to share—cramped but functional. That night, below deck, the four dragons were piled together on Wren's bunk, wings tucked, tails curled around each other.
They weren't sleeping.
They just lay there, staring at nothing, occasionally chirping softly.
Wren sat beside them, gently stroking their scales. "We're getting closer," she whispered. "I can feel it."
Ember's tail twitched.
Twilight's eyes closed, but she didn't sleep.
Glimmer pressed against Wren's hand.
Spark made a soft, sad sound.
Rev leaned against the doorway, watching. "They're strong. They'll hold on."
"They shouldn't have to," Wren said quietly.
"No," Rev agreed. "They shouldn't."
The next day, the lookout shouted, "SHIP ON THE HORIZON!"
Everyone rushed to the deck.
Mara pulled out her spyglass and scanned the water. "Black sails. Pirate colors."
The four dragons went absolutely wild—shrieking, flapping, nearly launching themselves off the ship.
Wren grabbed Ember before he could fly away. "WAIT! We have to be smart about this!"
But the dragons were frantic now, crying out in high, piercing calls.
And from the distant ship, faint but unmistakable, two voices answered.
Moss. Shimmer.
Wren's breath caught. "They're there. They're on that ship."
Mara lowered the spyglass, her expression grim. "Then let's go get them."
They gave chase.
Mara's crew worked the sails expertly, and Felix—desperate to help—reached for his luck magic again.
The wind surged.
The ship leapt forward, closing the distance rapidly.
"We're gaining on them!" Wren shouted.
The four dragons shrieked with excitement, circling overhead.
The pirate ship was close now—close enough to see figures moving on deck, close enough to hear shouts as they realized they were being pursued.
And then Felix's luck snapped.
The wind didn't just die this time—it reversed.
A thick, rolling fog swept in from nowhere, swallowing the pirate ship whole. Within seconds, visibility dropped to nothing. The world became gray and formless, the ocean disappearing into mist.
"NO!" Wren cried.
The dragons dove into the fog, calling frantically.
But there was no answer.
"MOSS! SHIMMER!" Wren shouted into the gray.
Nothing.
Mara cursed under her breath. "We've lost them."
Felix looked stricken. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"It's not your fault," Mara said firmly. "Luck magic is unpredictable. We knew that."
"But we were so close," Wren said, her voice breaking.
The four dragons returned, landing on the deck, looking devastated. Ember's wings drooped. Twilight made a soft, mournful sound. Glimmer pressed against Wren's leg. Spark tucked his head under his wing.
Rev put a hand on Wren's shoulder. "We'll find them. The fog will lift."
"And when it does," Mara said, "we keep searching. They can't have gone far."
The fog had finally cleared, hours later, but the pirate ship was long gone. Night was closing in, and the sky was darkening, with hints of purple left over from the setting sun.
Mara's crew searched the horizon. Nothing.
The dragons were inconsolable again, huddled together, refusing to eat.
Wren sat with them, whispering promises she wasn't sure she could keep.
And then, as the moon rose, Ember started chittering urgently. He flew higher, circling, then dove back toward the ship.
"He sees something," Felix said.
Mara squinted into the darkness. "Where?"
Twilight joined Ember, both dragons flying toward a cluster of rocks jutting out of the water in the distance.
"There," Rev said, pointing.
As they drew closer, they saw it—a ship anchored near a small, rocky island. The sails were patched, the hull weathered. Even in the dark, it was unmistakable.
"That's them," Felix said.
The pirate ship sat quiet in the moonlight, only a skeleton crew visible on deck. Most of the pirates were gone—likely already on the island, searching for treasure with Moss and Shimmer.
Mara nodded. "Looks like most of them are ashore. That works in our favor."
Wren looked at the four dragons, agitated and eager. "We need to get to the island. That's where Moss and Shimmer are."
"Agreed," Mara said. "We'll anchor nearby and take the rowboat."
They rowed quietly to shore, the four dragons perched on the sides of the boat, tense and alert. The moment they reached the beach, Ember and Twilight launched into the air, flying inland.
"Wait—" Wren hissed, but they were already gone.
Glimmer and Spark followed, their small forms disappearing into the darkness.
"So much for stealth," Felix muttered.
They followed the dragons inland, moving through scrubby vegetation and rocky outcroppings. In the distance, they could see the flicker of torchlight.
SHINY THINGS
Fin had made a lot of mistakes in his short life.
Accidentally kidnapping a member of a traveling performance troupe probably ranked in the top three.
He sat on the deck of Captain Rourke's ship, staring at the two dragons in their makeshift cage, replaying the disaster in his head.
It was supposed to be simple. He'd told the Captain about the pocket dragons causing chaos in the marketplace—tiny creatures that loved shiny things, that could supposedly sniff out treasure.
'Catch them,' she'd ordered. 'However you can.'
So Fin and a few crew members had cornered the dragons in an alley, after failing to trap them. They threw nets and sacks, trying to grab the little creatures as they darted and dove.
It had been chaos.
Dragons shrieking. Fire and smoke everywhere. Pirates shouting.
And in the middle of it all, a man in a rhinestone coat had come running into the alley, unseen by the pirates, chasing after the dragons.
Someone had thrown a sack over him.
By the time they realized their mistake, they were already back at the ship.
"That's... not a dragon," Fin had said slowly when they'd opened the sack below deck.
The captain had stared. "No. No, it's not."
Felix had brushed soot off his sleeve and looked around at the pirates staring at him in horror.
"Well," Felix had said dryly, "this is awkward."
The captain had called her crew every name under the sun.
Felix had tried to run.
They'd hauled him to the brig and locked him in. Captain Rourke was still swearing up a storm.
Fin had felt sick about it.
He hadn't meant to kidnap anyone. He'd just grabbed the wrong thing at the wrong time, and now a man was locked in the brig and the captain was furious and—
The explosion of noise from above deck made him jump.
Shouting. Screaming. The smell of smoke.
Fin ran up the stairs and froze.
Fire licked at the sails. Pirates ran in every direction, swatting at tiny dragons that dive-bombed them with alarming precision. A barrel rolled across the deck, trailing smoke. Someone was screaming about their hat.
The dragons had come to save the man, Fin realized.
And then Felix burst onto the deck, lockpick still in hand, looking wildly around.
He whistled—sharp and clear.
Four dragons immediately swarmed to him. A copper one landed on his shoulder, chittering proudly. A purple one perched on his head. Two smaller ones clung to his coat, their tiny claws catching on the rhinestones.
Felix didn't wait. He ran for the rail, vaulted over it, and hit the water.
The dragons followed in a chaotic, glittering cloud.
Fin watched him go, something like admiration flickering in his chest.
'He just escaped a pirate ship,' Fin thought. 'With four dragons. Like it was nothing.'
By the time the crew got the fires under control, the sun was setting and the ship was drifting.
'Captain!' one of the pirates shouted. 'The anchor line—it burned through!'
The captain swore and looked up. The sail had unfurled in the chaos, catching the wind. They were moving.
'Well, don't just stand there—trim the sails! Get us under control!'
Fin climbed into the rigging to help and froze.
Two tiny dragons were tangled in the lines, wings caught, exhausted and struggling weakly. One was green, the other blue. They looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes.
'Cap'n!' Fin called down. 'We've still got two of 'em!'
The captain looked up, then grinned slowly.
'Well then. Looks like we're in business after all.' She turned to the crew. 'Set course. We've got treasure to find, and now we've got the help we need.'
Moss and Shimmer chittered weakly, too tired to fight.
Fin carefully untangled them from the rigging and brought them down to the deck.
The captain had a cage ready—makeshift, built from rope and driftwood, but functional.
'Put them in,' she'd ordered.
Fin hesitated.
The two dragons looked at him with those wide, frightened eyes.
'Now, boy.'
Fin put them in the cage.
He hated himself for it.
They'd been at sea for two days, and the dragons still weren't cooperating.
Fin crouched beside the cage, holding out a silver coin. "Come on, little ones. Look—shiny! You like shiny things, right?"
The tiny captive dragons growled low in their throats.
"They're not cooperating," Gus hissed from across the deck. "Useless little pests."
"They're just scared," Fin said quietly.
"They'd better get un-scared," Gus said. "Captain's losing patience."
Fin knew that. He could feel it every time Captain Rourke looked at the dragons—that cold, assessing stare that said this had better be worth it.
Fin had tried everything.
He'd offered them shiny coins, buttons, bits of glass. He'd tried talking to them softly.
Nothing worked.
They just sat in the cage, dull-scaled and miserable, occasionally chirping softly—a sound that broke Fin's heart every time.
They were calling for their family.
And no one answered.
Gus wasn't kind to them.
He kicked the cage when he walked past. Poked at them with sticks. Called them names.
"Leave them alone," Fin said one day, stepping between Gus and the cage.
Gus turned, his expression dangerous. "What did you say, Cabin Rat?"
Fin swallowed hard. "Nothing. Sorry."
Gus glared at him, then stomped away, muttering.
Fin looked back at the dragons.
Moss was pressed against the bars, watching him with wary eyes.
Shimmer had tucked her head under her wing.
"I'm sorry," Fin whispered. "I'm so sorry."
But Fin wasn't like Gus.
When no one was looking, he slipped the dragons bits of dried fish. He'd tried giving them water. He talked to them softly, even though they hissed at him.
"I know you're scared," he said quietly one night. "I know you want to go home. I... I wish I could let you go."
Moss tilted his head, watching him.
Shimmer peeked out from under her wing.
"If I did the Captain would maroon me somewhere," Fin continued. "Or worse."
The dragons didn't respond. They just stared at him with those wide, sad eyes.
Fin looked away, guilt twisting in his chest.
When the ship anchored near the rocky shore of one of the Crescent Islands, Captain Rourke had most of the crew row ashore, dragging the cage with Moss and Shimmer along.
Fin had been ordered to come too.
Now he stood near the mouth of a cave, watching as Rourke tried to coax the dragons out with shiny coins and trinkets.
"Go on," she said. "Find the treasure. That's what you do, isn't it? Find shiny things?"
Moss hissed.
Shimmer didn't move.
"Stubborn little—" Rourke reached into the cage.
Moss snapped at her hand. She jerked back, cursing.
"Captain," Fin said carefully. "Maybe they'd work better if they weren't so scared. If we—"
"I don't pay you to think," Rourke snapped. "I pay you to be useful. So makes them useful, or I'll toss them into the ocean and cut my losses."
Fin's stomach dropped. "You can't—"
"I can do whatever I want," Rourke said coldly, her eyes hard. "They're mine now. And if they're not going to find me treasure, they're not worth keeping."
She kicked the side of the cage.
Moss and Shimmer shrieked and pressed themselves into the corner, trembling.
"Try again, boy," Rourke said to Fin. "And make it work this time."
She turned back to the cave, leaving Fin standing there, shaking with anger and fear.
The pirate captain stood nearby, gesturing at the cave entrance. "In there. That's where the treasure is. Now make yourselves useful and find it."
Fin approached the cage cautiously, holding out a shiny coin. "Come on, little ones. Just like before. Find the shiny things."
Moss hissed at him. Shimmer turned away, wings drooping.
"They're not cooperating," one of the pirates grumbled.
"They will," the captain said firmly. "They just need the right motivation."
Fin knelt beside the cage, his hands trembling.
"I'm sorry," Fin whispered to the dragons. "I'm so, so sorry."
Moss looked at him with frightened eyes.
Shimmer made a soft, sad sound.
Fin reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of dried fish. He slipped it through the bars.
The dragons didn't take it at first.
"Please," Fin said quietly. "I know you don't trust me. I don't blame you. But please eat something."
Moss sniffed the fish cautiously, then took it. Shimmer followed.
They ate slowly, watching him the whole time.
"I wish I could let you go," Fin said. "I wish I was brave enough."
The dragons chirped softly—not angry this time. Just sad.
Fin looked towards the cave where Captain Rourke was barking orders at the crew.
'They're not yours', he thought. 'They were never yours.'
Then Fin heard it.
A sound. High-pitched. Distant.
Shrieks.
He looked up and saw them—four small shapes diving through the darkness, silhouetted against the stars.
The other dragons.
They'd come.
His heart started pounding.
The pirates hadn't noticed yet. They were too focused on the cave, on the search.
Fin looked at the cage where Moss and Shimmer were pressed against the bars, suddenly alert, chirping urgently.
He looked at the four dragons diving toward them.
And he stepped back into the shadows.
He didn't shout a warning.
He didn't raise the alarm.
He just watched.
And Hoped.
THE RESCUE
The rescue party followed the dragons inland, moving through scrubby vegetation and rocky outcroppings. In the distance, they could see the flicker of torchlight.
The pirates had set up camp near the mouth of a cave. Moss and Shimmer were there—perched inside of a makeshift cage made of rope and driftwood, looking exhausted and miserable.
The pirate captain stood nearby, gesturing at the cave entrance. "In there. That's where the treasure is. Now make yourselves useful and find it."
A boy approached the cage cautiously, holding out a shiny coin. "Come on, little ones," he said to the captured dragons, "Just like before. Find the shiny things."
Moss hissed at him. Shimmer turned away, wings drooping.
"They're not cooperating," one of the pirates grumbled.
"They will," the captain said firmly. "They just need the right motivation."
From their hiding spot in the rocks, Wren's hands clenched into fists.
"We need to get them out of there," she whispered.
"Agreed," Forge said. "But how?"
Before anyone could answer, the four free dragons dove.
Ember hit first, breathing a stream of fire that scattered the pirates. Twilight swooped down and grabbed a torch, flinging it into the sand. Glimmer and Spark attacked the cage, tearing at the ropes with their tiny claws.
The pirates shouted and scrambled for weapons.
"Not again!" the captain roared.
Moss and Shimmer, seeing their siblings, shrieked with joy and fought against the cage with renewed energy.
"Now!" Wren said.
They charged.
Forge hit the nearest pirate like a battering ram, sending him sprawling. Rev moved like a shadow, disarming another before the man even saw him coming. Felix ducked a wild swing and swept the pirate's legs out from under him.
Wren ran straight for the cage.
The captain moved to intercept her, cutlass raised—
A jet of green fire hit the captain's boot. She yelped and stumbled back.
Moss, still in the cage, hissed triumphantly.
Wren reached the cage and tore at the ropes. They gave way, and Moss and Shimmer burst free, launching into the air with joyful shrieks.
All six dragons swarmed together, a glittering, chaotic cloud of scales and fire.
The pirates, already overwhelmed, took one look at the reunited dragons and their fire tornado and started backing away.
"Retreat!" the captain shouted. "Back to the ship!"
The pirates ran.
Fin stood frozen, watching the dragons circle overhead. He looked at Wren, at the troupe, at the chaos he'd helped cause.
Wren met his eyes. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Fin turned and ran after the others.
They stood in the flickering torchlight, breathing hard. The six dragons landed around them—on shoulders, arms, the ground—chittering and nuzzling each other.
Wren knelt and gently touched Moss and Shimmer. "You're safe now," she whispered.
The two dragons pressed against her hands, exhausted, possibly bruised, but safe.
Felix looked towards the beach where the pirates were scrambling into their rowboat. "Should we—?"
"Let them go," Wren said quietly. "We got what we came for."
Forge grunted in agreement. Rev nodded.
The six dragons huddled together, a pile of glittering scales and soft chirps.
"Let's go home," Wren said.
THE CAVE
But at that moment Glimmer stopped and lifted her head into the air. She sniffed hard and loudly, like a hunting dog catching a scent. She trilled excitedly and took off flying for the cave. The other pocket dragons followed without hesitation.
"Where are they off to?" Forge wondered aloud.
"Don't know," Felix said, "But we better follow them before they get into any more trouble."
The cave was dark. Wren picked up one of the lanterns that the pirates had left behind. She lifted it high, banishing the dark, with only shadows remaining.
"I'm waiting out here," Forge said. "Don't like caves."
He continued to grumble to himself as he made himself as comfortable as he could on an abandoned crate.
Wren, Felix, and Rev entered the cave. They could hear scuffling ahead and little triumphant squeaks, mingled with echoes and water dripping from the stalactites above.
"There's something ahead," Rev said after walking down the tunnel a ways. "I can hear it. It's been here a long time and it's lonely."
A chill ran down Wren's spine as she held the lantern aloft and pressed on deeper into the cave. Felix took her hand, sensing her anxiety.
"Whatever it is," Felix said, "It can't be worse than pirates."
Wren smiled as he squeezed her hand.
It didn't take them long to find the Pocket Dragons.
They were having the time of their lives. So many shiny things! Glimmer chirped happily as she slid down a pile of gold coins.
Tired, Shimmer and Moss made themselves comfortable in an open chest, tails hanging out the sides. They were curled up and fell asleep quickly.
Spark had been tunneling in one pile, and emerged wearing a jeweled bangle as a crown. He had a string of pearls dangling on his nose and shook his head to remove them. Ember was gathering his own little hoard of shiny jewels, organizing them carefully into a pile.
Twilight was groaning, in a state of bliss, as she scratched her back scales against a pile of silver jewelry. Once the itch was satisfied she rolled in it- happy as a pig in a sty.
Wren gasped and stared when she saw it. The room was full of treasure, shining in the light of the lantern. Wren and Felix looked around in awe.
Rev didn't stop. He moved through the treasure hoard carefully, stepping over piles of coins and jeweled goblets. The dragons paid him no mind, too busy with their own discoveries.
He stopped near the back of the cave, where the shadows were deepest.
There.
Half-buried beneath a pile of tarnished silverware and rotting silk, something called to him. Not with words, but with a feeling—a deep, aching loneliness that made his chest tight.
He knelt and carefully moved the debris aside.
A journal. Leather-bound, worn smooth by years and salt air. The cover was cracked, the edges frayed. It had been here a long time.
Rev picked it up gently, cradling it in his hands.
The loneliness eased, just a little. The journal seemed to sigh with relief.
"What is it?" Wren asked, coming to stand beside him.
"A journal," Rev said quietly. "It's been here a long time. Forgotten."
Felix leaned in, curious. "Whose?"
Rev opened it carefully. The pages were yellowed and brittle, the ink faded but still legible. The handwriting was neat, deliberate.
He read the first entry aloud:
"Day one aboard the Serpent's Promise. We set sail at dawn. The crew is eager, the wind is fair, and I am hopeful. This voyage will change everything."
Rev turned the page. More entries. A sailor's log—daily observations, hopes, fears. A life recorded in careful script.
He flipped to the last entry. The handwriting was shakier here, hurried.
"The storm took the ship. I don't know if anyone else survived. I made it to the island, but I'm hurt. I don't think I'll make it off. If anyone finds this—tell my family I tried to come home. Tell them I loved them."
The entry ended there.
Silence filled the cave, broken only by the soft chirping of the dragons and the drip of water.
Wren touched Rev's shoulder gently. "They never made it home."
Rev closed the journal carefully, holding it close. "No. But their story doesn't have to stay lost."
Felix nodded. "We'll take it with us. Make sure it's remembered."
The journal seemed to warm in Rev's hands, the loneliness fading into something softer. Gratitude, maybe. Relief.
"Let's go home," Wren said again, this time with finality.
Rev tucked the journal safely into his coat.
The dragons, sensing the shift in mood, gathered around them— Spark's crown askew, Ember with a small pile of gems he refused to leave behind. Moss and Shimmer roused at the commotion, and would return home with memories of a comfortable napping spot and faint impressions of pleasant dreams.
Glimmer was still enjoying herself, playing in the coin pile. Wren walked over and picked the tiny dragon up. She squeaked as if saying, "Hey!" But settled into Wren's arms with a small huff, still clutching a gold coin.
Together, they left the cave.
The rowboat was crowded on the way back to the Wayward Gull. Six pocket dragons made for a lot of chaos in a small space.
Glimmer sat in Wren's lap, still holding her gold coin possessively. Moss and Shimmer were curled together in the bottom of the boat, resting some more. Spark kept adjusting his crown, which kept slipping over his eyes. Ember had his small pile of gems carefully arranged at his feet, and he hissed if anyone's boot got too close. Twilight perched on the edge of the boat, wings spread, enjoying the sea breeze.
Forge rowed with steady, powerful strokes. He'd been quiet since they left the cave.
"You all right?" Felix asked.
Forge grunted. "Fine. Just thinking."
"About?"
"That journal." Forge glanced at Rev, who had the leather-bound book tucked safely in his coat. "Someone's family never knew what happened to them."
Rev nodded. "I know."
"Can you find them?" Wren asked gently. "The family?"
Rev was quiet for a moment. "Maybe. If there's enough in the journal—a name, a home port. It might take time, but..." He touched the journal through his coat. "It wants to go home. I can feel it."
"Then we'll help," Wren said simply.
Forge nodded. Felix smiled.
Glimmer chirped and held up her coin as if to say, I'm helping too.
They reached the Wayward Gull as the first light of dawn touched the horizon. Captain Mara helped them aboard, eyeing the dragons with amusement.
"Got what you came for, I see."
"And then some," Felix said, gesturing to Spark's crown.
Mara laughed. "Well, let's get you home."
The wind was favorable—naturally this time, no luck magic required. Felix stood at the rail, exhausted but relieved, watching the six dragons settle into the rigging like they owned the place.
Wren joined him. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For coming. For helping. For..." She gestured at the dragons. "For caring about them as much as I do."
Felix smiled. "They're family. Of course I care."
Ember chirped from the rigging, and a small ruby tumbled down, bouncing off Felix's head.
"Ow—Ember!"
Wren laughed. Felix sighed, but he was smiling.
The Wayward Gull sailed toward home, the six pocket dragons glittering in the morning light like stars that refused to fade.
DRAGON SHENANIGANS
The troupe returned to Tidal Town to cheers and relief. Rosey had kept everything running smoothly, Mender had watched the wagons, and Lyric and Lumina's children had been (mostly) well-behaved.
"Mostly" being the key word.
The moment Moon and Aria spotted the six pocket dragons, their eyes lit up.
"The Dragons!" Aria squealed, running toward them.
"Can we play?" Moon asked, already reaching for Glimmer.
Glimmer chirped and landed on his outstretched hand, her pale gold scales shimmering.
Ashura, who had been napping in Rosey's arms, woke up and immediately wriggled free. She toddled toward the dragons with her arms outstretched.
"Hug!" she declared.
Wren intercepted her just in time. "Gentle hugs, remember?"
Ashura nodded solemnly, then immediately lunged for Moss, who squeaked in alarm and flew to the top of the nearest wagon.
"This is going to be interesting," Felix muttered.
It started innocently enough. Rosey had hung laundry to dry between two wagons—shirts, trousers, linens flapping gently in the breeze.
Moon and Aria were "helping" the dragons explore the camp. Spark still wore his crown (slightly bent now). Ember had stashed her gems in a small pouch that Feren had given her. Twilight was perched on Aria's shoulder, preening.
Then Glimmer spotted a bright red scarf hanging on the line.
She chirped excitedly and dove for it, grabbing it in her tiny claws.
"Glimmer, no—" Wren started.
Too late.
Shimmer saw a blue shirt. Moss grabbed a sock. Spark went for a pair of trousers that were far too big for him and got tangled.
Within seconds, all six dragons were pulling laundry off the line, shrieking with delight.
"It's shiny!" Moon laughed, chasing after Ember, who had claimed a silver-threaded scarf.
"Get it back!" Aria called, trying to catch Twilight, who was now wearing a handkerchief like a cape.
Ashura clapped her hands. "Pretty!"
Rosey stood in the middle of the chaos, hands on her hips, watching her freshly washed laundry disappear into a cloud of dragons and children.
"Well," she said dryly, "at least they're having fun."
Felix tried to grab the trousers from Spark, (the same trousers Rosey had just recently mended) but the little dragon hissed and breathed a puff of fire that singed the fabric- again.
"Spark!" Felix yelped.
Wren was laughing too hard to help.
Later that afternoon, Felix made the mistake of leaving his card deck unattended.
He'd been practicing a new trick and had set the deck on a small table outside his wagon while he went to get water.
When he returned, the deck was gone.
"No," Felix said. "No, no, no—"
He found the cards scattered across the camp. Ember had organized hers into a neat pile (of course). Glimmer was using one as a tiny sled, sliding down a pile of blankets. Twilight had shredded two cards and was sitting in the scraps like a nest.
Moon and Aria were trying to build a house of cards, but Moss kept knocking it over by landing on top.
Ashura had one card in each hand and was waving them like flags. "Look! Look!"
Felix stood in the middle of the chaos, hands on his hips.
"That's my DECK," he said.
"We're helping!" Moon said cheerfully.
"You're helping me lose my mind," Felix muttered, but he was smiling.
Spark flew over and dropped a card at Felix's feet—the ace of spades, slightly singed.
"Thanks, Spark," Felix said, picking it up carefully.
By the time he'd collected all the cards (minus the two Twilight had destroyed), he was exhausted.
"Never again," he told Wren.
She patted his shoulder. "You say that now."
Dinner was supposed to be simple. Rosey had made a large pot of soup, and everyone was gathering to eat.
Ashura was sitting on a blanket, carefully holding her bowl. Moon and Aria were helping serve.
The dragons, naturally, wanted to investigate.
Glimmer landed on the edge of Ashura's bowl. The toddler giggled and tried to pet her.
The bowl tipped.
Soup spilled everywhere.
Ashura burst into tears. Glimmer flew away, chittering apologetically.
"It's all right, sweetheart," Wren said, scooping Ashura up. "We'll get you more."
But the damage was done. Ember, seeing the spilled soup, decided it looked interesting and landed in the puddle. Her claws got sticky. She tried to fly away and crashed into Spark, who tumbled into Moss, who knocked over another bowl.
"DRAGONS!" Rosey shouted, but she was laughing.
Moon and Aria tried to catch them, but the dragons were too fast, leaving tiny sticky footprints all over the camp.
By the time order was restored, everyone was covered in soup, the dragons were being gently scrubbed by Wren, and Ashura had fallen asleep in Uncle Lyric's lap, exhausted from crying.
"Well," Mender said, chuckling and surveying the chaos, "that went about as expected."
Felix, wringing out his soup-soaked coat, just sighed.
That night, the camp finally settled. The dragons, exhausted from their day of chaos, curled up together in a pile near Wren's wagon. Spark's crown sat askew on his head. Ember's gems were tucked safely beneath him. Glimmer was snoring softly.
Moon and Aria were asleep in their parents' wagon, hair like sunshine and moonlight spread across their pillows.
Ashura was curled up with Wren, one tiny hand clutching her mother's sleeve.
Felix sat by the fire, finally reassembling his card deck.
Wren joined him, smiling. "Survived the day?"
"Barely," Felix said, but he was grinning.
She looked at the sleeping dragons, the quiet camp, the family they'd built.
"Worth it?" she asked.
Felix followed her gaze and nodded. "Yeah. Worth it."
EPILOGUE
Three months later, the troupe had settled into a new rhythm.
The pocket dragons were still thieves—that would never change—but they'd learned the rules- sort of. No stealing from the Troupe (mostly). No setting fire to the wagons (usually). And absolutely no kidnapping Felix during performances (that had only happened once, but it had been memorable. They'd hoisted him up by his coat, feet kicking in the air, and carried him out of the performance tent).
They were still part of the show. Felix had built them into his act long ago—tiny dragons appearing from his coat, stealing cards mid-trick, breathing small puffs of flame at dramatic moments. The audiences loved them.
Ember had appointed himself Felix's assistant and took the job very seriously. He organized his props, guarded his card deck, and glared at anyone who got too close to "his" stage.
Glimmer had claimed Wren's wagon as her personal domain and could often be found napping in the sunbeams that streamed through the windows. Ember would visit her there and they could often be found napping together.
Moss and Shimmer stayed close to each other, still recovering from the dragon-napping but growing braver every day.
Spark wore his crown everywhere. It had become his signature. He would croon and show off when Twilight was around.
And Twilight had discovered she loved music. She perched on Lyric's shoulder during performances, humming along in her own draconic way.
Rev had kept his promise.
The journal had led him to a small coastal town two weeks' travel from Tidal Town. The sailor's name had been Marcus Thorne, and his family—descendants, now—still lived there.
Rev had delivered the journal to an elderly woman named Lidia, Marcus's great-great-granddaughter. She'd wept when she read it, holding the worn leather cover like it was made of gold.
"We always wondered," she'd said quietly. "Thank you for bringing him home."
Rev had left the journal with her, but he carried the memory of her gratitude with him. The loneliness he'd felt in that cave was gone, replaced by something warmer.
Purpose. Belonging.
One evening, as the Troupe camped near a quiet river, Wren sat by the fire with Felix. The six dragons were scattered around them—Ember organizing pebbles, Glimmer chasing fireflies, Spark preening his crown, Moss and Shimmer curled together, Twilight humming softly.
Ashura was asleep in Wren's lap, one hand tangled in her mother's hair.
"Do you ever regret it?" Wren asked quietly.
Felix looked up from the card trick he was practicing. "Regret what?"
"Taking them in. The chaos. The stolen cards, the singed eyebrows, the kidnapping..."
Felix laughed. "The kidnapping was definitely a low point."
Wren smiled.
Felix looked at the dragons, at the camp, at the family they'd built. "No," he said. "I don't regret it. They're ours. All of them."
Wren nodded. "Yeah. They are."
Ember chirped and dropped a pebble at Felix's feet—a gift, carefully chosen.
Felix picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was smooth, dark, unremarkable to anyone else.
But to Ember, it was perfect.
"Thanks, Ember," Felix said softly.
He chirped again, pleased, and went back to his organizing.
Across the camp, Mender sat with Moon and Aria, telling them a story. Lyric and Lumina listened nearby, smiling.
North sat near the fire, studying her maps and charts by lamplight, occasionally marking their route.
Forge was sharpening tools by the fire, Vigil tending the Trotters with quiet care.
Rosey was mending clothes (again), muttering about dragons and laundry.
Rev sat alone, but not lonely, carving a small wooden dragon from a piece of driftwood.
The Troupe was whole.
Far away, on a distant shore, a pirate ship limped into port. The crew was battered, the sails scorched, and the captain was in a foul mood.
When asked what happened the stories became wilder. Fire-breathing sea monsters. Sailing too close to an erupting volcano while on a treasure hunt. Dragons as big as a house...
Fin stood at the rail, looking back towards the horizon.
He thought about the dragons. The Troupe. The way they'd fought for each other without hesitation.
He thought about the treasure they'd left behind.
And he wondered, for the first time, if maybe there were things worth more than gold.
It started with Ashura.
The toddler had been playing near Wren's wagon when she squealed with delight.
"Mama! Mama, look! Pretty rocks!"
Wren came running, worried Ashura had found something dangerous.
What she found instead was her daughter sitting cross-legged in front of a small nest made of stolen scarves, shiny coins, and what looked like Felix's missing handkerchief.
In the center of the nest were five small, blue-green, glittering eggs.
Wren stared.
Shimmer landed on the edge of the nest, chittering proudly.
"Oh," Wren said faintly. "Oh no."
Ten minutes later, Felix's shout echoed through the camp.
"WREN!"
She found him standing in front of his open prop trunk, staring at the contents with an expression of pure horror.
Inside, nestled among his carefully organized cards and props, was another nest. This one was made of rhinestones (pried off his coat, apparently), silk ribbons, and several of his favorite playing cards.
Four copper-gold eggs sat in the center.
Glimmer perched on the edge of the trunk, looking extremely pleased with herself.
"She nested in my TRUNK," Felix said, voice strangled.
"At least she has good taste," Wren offered.
Felix just groaned.
Moon and Aria found the third nest in the laundry pile.
"Wren! Felix! Come look!"
The entire troupe gathered around as the children carefully moved aside a pile of clean linens to reveal a nest made of socks (so THAT'S where they'd gone), a blue scarf, and several shiny buttons.
Five reddish-purple eggs gleamed in the fading sunlight.
Twilight sat on top of the pile, wings spread protectively, looking very smug.
Rosey stared at the nest. At the stolen socks. At the dragons.
"I'm going to need more laundry line," she said flatly.
The Troupe stood together, looking at the three nests.
Fourteen eggs total.
Fourteen MORE dragons.
The troupe stood together, looking at the three nests.
"Golly," North said in amazement.
Vigil stepped forward, crouching beside Glimmer's nest. He studied the eggs carefully—their size, their color, the way the mother dragon watched him with wary eyes.
After a long moment, he straightened and looked at the group.
"Vigil thinks we'll manage," they said quietly.
Forge grunted, arms crossed. "Vigil can manage the dragons. Forge will be reinforcing every wagon in camp." He paused, eyeing the nests. "Twice."
"Well," Mender said, breaking the silence, "at least it won't be boring."
Felix laughed—a slightly hysterical sound. "Boring. Right. That's one way to put it."
Wren looked at the eggs, at the proud dragon mothers guarding their nests, at her family gathered around her.
Moon and Aria were already planning names. Ashura was trying to pet one of the eggs (gently, for once). Forge was muttering about reinforcing the wagons. Rev was smiling quietly.
And Felix—singed, exhausted, perpetually exasperated Felix—was grinning despite himself.
"We're going to need a bigger wagon," he said.
Wren laughed. "Probably several."
The fire crackled. The dragons chirped softly. The stars came out, one by one, glittering like tiny stolen treasures in the night sky. Wren sat by the fire with Felix. The six dragons were scattered around them, the three mothers sleeping with their eggs, occasionally waking to peek with one eye. Ashura was asleep in Wren's lap.
And the Troupe—misfits, outcasts, thieves, and dreamers—rested together, safe and whole.
They'd left a cave full of gold and jewels behind, untouched and unclaimed.
But sitting here, surrounded by family—and fourteen eggs that would soon hatch into even MORE chaos—Wren realized they'd found something far more valuable
Home isn't a place.
Family isn't blood.
And the greatest treasure (and the best shiny things) isn't something you can hold in your hands—it's the people (and creatures) who burn like an ember in your heart.
(Even when those creatures steal your socks and nest in your laundry.)
(Especially then.)
THE END