Clarinet was the first mutant dragon born to the Bishen Realm once it was relocated from its original world. Her coloration was Moonstone, a very odd hue of blue. Her stomach was purple and her eyes were black yet bright.
The Moonstone coloration was said to bring extremely good luck. It also brought safe passages to sea voyages. Without prior knowledge, though, it is difficult to recognize the traits of this color. Thus, our seafarers are once more left in the dark.
The Majestic has become oddly silent in the week since Clar's death. Tren no longer plays his flute. Sandrylene is silent and withdrawn. Clar himself rests at the bottom of the sea somewhere. All that remains of him is a lock of his hair and the arrowhead that killed him, both of which Sandrylene wears about her neck.
Clarinet is growing well, but she, too, senses the sorrow in the air. She is slowly learning words and phrases with which to communicate with Tren and Sandry, but she wishes to cause them to cheer up. By the way the pair talk, it sounds as if they were happy when the third human was about. Clarinet only saw her namesake when he was dead. She sensed the mourning, though, at that moment when she hatched. She still feels it. Eventually she hopes to make it into joy, but not yet. The others are not finished and ready to move on. Maybe a little bit later.
Sandrylene stares down hard at the ropes before her. Clar had shown her countless times before how to tie them together, but somehow she could never get it right. Now is no exception. Salt tears start to fill her eyes as frustration begins to overwhelm her. She glances up, and through the haze of her feelings, Clar's image materializes before her. He is patiently and slowly explaining how to tie the knots to secure the sails.
"Clar?" she asks weakly. The image does not reply. "Clar talk to me!"
Clarinet, who is entwined about Sandry's neck, blinks in the direction her bondmate is speaking. *He's not there, Sandrylene. You're imagining things. It will be right. You'll move on,* she projects to the girl quietly. Her voice is small and delicate. Due to that and its melodious lilt, it is oddly soothing.
"Clar, please say something!" The vision finishes the knot and begins to look up to her. Before she can see his beautiful green eyes, however, his image vanishes. Before her is nothing but the rigging and the mast. That is the breaking point. Sandry's tears slow out from her eyes like torrents and she climbs up the rope ladders to the crow's nest. There she slumps down and burries her head in her hands.
*Sandrylene, what is... not right?* Clarinet projects. She has yet to learn the word "wrong."
Sandry only sobs pathetically. She clutches the arrowhead that, with Clar's hair, is strung upon a cord that hangs about her neck. She glares up at the sun.
*It will be right soon, Sandrylene. I ... pro... prom... prom-ice!*
"You mean to say 'promise,' little one," Sandry replies, fighting off a new batch of tears. Clar had promised her father that he would take care of her. Perhaps he was doing just that when the Prospians killed him. "Why did he have to be so stupid?" she mutters.
*How was he stupid? From what Tren says, he was quite brave.*
"He should have just cut the rope to the dock. We had bought new rope that day. Why couldn't he have cut the ropes?" Now the tears come. They pour down her cheeks in rivers. Sandry hides her face again. She doesn't sob. The only clue that she is still crying are the dots of water on the floor of the crow's nest.
*Everything will be right, Sandrylene. In time. Would he not have wanted you to move on?*
"How can I move on from one I loved? One I still love?"
*Give it time.* Clarinet slides from Sandry's shoulders and pushes her way to see her bondmate's face. *Things will be right again.*
"I know. But I am not yet ready to give him up."
*I know.* Clarinet slides into Sandry's arms and curls up into a small wad. She falls asleep soon as Sandry sits and contimplates the wisdom of the child's words.
*Tren,* Clarinet projects as she and Sandry pass him on the deck towards sundown.
"Yes little one?" the Marian inquires.
*Will you play your flute for me? Please?*
Tren sighs and glances at the wyrm. She is with Sandrylene, sitting against the mizzen mast of the Majestic. His hand lights upon the pocket in which he keeps his flute. It is not there. He recalls it to be in his quarters in a drawer. He had placed it there to fight back the urge to play it. He knew it was not the time nor the place to pipe out a tune during the past week. A hint of a smile passes over his face. "Later, little one. Yes?"
*If you say so, Tren.* Clarinet slides from Sandry's shoulders with a sigh. She crawls over to the bow of the ship and lets out a long, mournful cry. It carries on the wind across the seas. It sends chills down Sandry's spine.
Sandry rises with a sigh. "I'm going to bed. I hope neither of you mind."
"Not at all, Sandrylene. Sleep well. Sweet dreams," Tren replies.
*Sweet... dreams...* Clarinet replies, trying to place a meaning to the word 'dreams.' When Sandry left, Clarinet turned to the Marian. She slithered over to him, her serpentine body allowing for such. *What are dreams, Tren?*
"Dreams? There are many types of dreams. You can have daydreams or night dreams. Also, hopes can be types of dreams."
*Hopes?* Clarinet blinks, trying to take this all in.
"Yes. Hopes are what someone wants to happen in the future. I'm sure you hope that Sandrylene cheers up sometime soon. Don't you?"
*Yes. In a way, a ... hope... is like a wish, right?*
"Very much so. Dreams usually come upon a person when he sleeps. They show someone's deepest fears, hopes, or desires. Sometimes they are happy. Sometimes they are sad. Sometimes they make no sense at all."
*What about those daydreams?*
"Daydreams are dreams while someone is awake. Usually those are happy dreams."
*Oh. And what are 'sweet dreams,' the kind you told to Sandry?*
"The expression 'sweet dreams' is a wish for someone to have happy dreams."
*So you are in a way dreaming of her having happy dreams?*
"I suppose. In a way. I've never really thought of it like that before."
Clarinet giggles. *Tren, I dream that you also have happy dreams.* Her eyes smile as she projects this. *I also dream that both you and Sandry become happy in wakefulness. It makes me sad to see you both sad.*
"I know, little one. I know."
Sandrylene falls asleep relatively quickly this evening. The bed in which she slumbers is but a hammock covered in blankets. As she drifts to sleep, the boat rocks the hammock and the hammock rocks her. She takes comfort in this, much the same way a child takes comfort in a mother rocking him to sleep. As she sleeps, though, Sandry dreams.
The ocean is calm and glassy. No waves, little or big, desturb it. The Majestic sails along, gliding over the seas with ease. The sails are slack, but wind ripples through Sandry's hair as she appears on the deck of the Majestic.
Hello? she calls out, her voice echoing through the area. When she receives no answer, she glances about. Is anyone here? She begins to wander about the deck, checking behind various areas for her companions. Tren? Clarinet? Where are you guys?
Sandrylene. The voice is so familiar, yet so odd. It seems as if it had been used decades ago, but it is sweet melodies to Sandry's ears.
Once more, Sandry doesn't need to look up to know it is Clar's voice. She feels the heat of tears spreading across her face. Why did you have to leave me?
I haven't left you, Sandrylene. I'm right here. Behind you. Turn around.
Sandry does as she is told. She sees him in fragments, never truly seeing him as a whole. First she sees his green eyes, sparkling in the static noon-day sun. Next she sees his black hair. Then his smile. Finally his eyes again. CLAR! she cries, anguish and grief filling her voice, making it crack with tears.
Yes I am, Sandrylene. But I'm also dead. I will be with you in life under the solitary condition that you cheer up. You have a dragon to raise, and I am honored by her name. His smile flashes into Sandry's vision again.
I won't let you go a second time, Clar. I love you.
And I, you, Sandrylene. However, my dice have been cast. This is my fate. Yours is with the Majestic. With Clarinet. With Tren. I will be with you for as long as you need me, but after that, I fear you are on your own.
I need you forever! Don't leave me!
Don't be selfish, Sandrylene. You have your entire life to live. I gave mine up for you. They were planning on burning the Majestic if I hadn't unmoored her. Then you would have been dead, Tren would have been dead, and Clarinet would never have been born. Is that what you wanted? Truly?
Clar, I wanted you to live, you know that.
My fate can not be changed. I will be with you when you need me. Until then, I must go. Morning approaches.
You leave me so soon, Spirit?
I must. We phantoms can only exist in the darkness. Fare thee well, Sandrylene. And live for your father, sister, and friends. He begins to fade from her view.
Hold, Clar. Have you news of my family?
Unfortunate news, most. Weldox was sacked by a rival country three days after our departure. Your father and sisters were spared the cruelties of slavery and rape; they died during the conquest. All that remains of our glorious state is a heap of marble rubble. Those who came to our nation promptly headed inland. They did not stay to exploit any more of our port than the inhabitants.
Then all I truly have left of a family is Clarinet and Tren. Life shall be different. At least they did not suffer. Good-night, dear heart.
Indeed, fair lady. Sweeter dreams than this I pray you receive.
Adieu.
Clar fades from Sandry's vision altogether. Within what seems like moments, the fabricated scenery also fades. Sandry dreams no more that night, but she awakens early.
After Sandrylene rises with the dawn, she changes her clothes. She does so quietly for little Clarinet slumbers peacefully upon a dresser. The young wyrm is entwined in one of Tren's white shirts. Sandry smiles down at her and leaves the room.
The salty air sets light dew upon the deck of the Majestic. A light breeze barely tickles the sails, yet the ship moves onward steadilly. A quick gust of wind ruffles Sandry's hair and snatches the lock of Clar's hair from her amulet. The folicles of black hair fly off and land somewhere on the water. They are fated only to fall to the bottom of the sea, as did their first owner.
Background by Ender Design.