Neen and the Salt Congress

There weren’t always dragons in the valley… So, why now? Neen thought grumpily as they flew toward the new Dragons, tucking low against the glassy salt flat to check their reflection. The meeting to which they were heading required Neen to do something they detested: primp. After they had been elected as Visiting Consult, Tonec insisted that all Neen’s scales be polished, ridge sharpened, claws retracted, and, to Neen’s utter disgust, fertiline pouch covered. Why should it matter to these random dragons whether I plan to birth? They thought, banking smoothly east to rip a couple giant Fint leaves from the nearest bush and weave the resinous tips through their large, velvety flank scales. Neen puffed out a snort as they thought of the scale and skin that would come off when the leaves were removed later.

The new dragons had flown in suddenly a few days ago and one of them, small and golden, had dropped an invitation to Neen’s Congress from the air. Why none of them made landfall was the subject of much debate. The elder dragons believed it was a peace offering or misguided manners. The younger generations–Neen among them–thought it was rude. The invitation hadn’t given any clue to support either interpretation, the parchment simply read: Welcome consult to northern valley with urgency.

Tonec had called for a full Congress meeting that evening, just after the suns dipped below the horizon to the south. Dragons from the whole territory came, even the loners who stayed in the Salt Mountains on the westernmost boundary of their home. Neen and their Year Mates took places on the outside of the concentric circles made by the older Dragons, nervously shoving and snorting at one another as they all tried to get the best view of the center. This was their first meeting, having been too young to attend the last one, and the more they could learn the better chance they had at being chosen for the Congress assignments they wanted in the future. Every single one of Neen’s friends was motivated to not be assigned Egg duty or hammock repair. They wanted to join the well-respected boundary patrol or sit on the small council, doling out advice and settling disputes. Neen, though, secretly liked the idea of repairing hammocks all day, taking breaks for grackenberry snacks and play time with Mint, the big spotted hammock beetle who sometimes hitched a ride on Neen’s scales. One of the instructors, perched on their hindlegs a few circles forward, turned, narrowing their fiery eyes just enough to still the young dragons as Tonec opened the meeting.

“Dragons of Salt Congress,” they began, enormous wings partially spread and talons sunk in the sand to indicate a formal greeting. “There is a new Congress in the northern valley. The patrol has not crossed over the cliff but senses no immediate danger. Loona has determined that the invitation was written in an old style of politics not used since before my time.” Dragons throughout the circles whispered, wings rustling. Their Speaker was older than all of them.

“We will not speculate about what we do not know. Loona is quite certain the invitation is earnest.” Tonec continued in an effort to quiet the meeting. “The small council has agreed that we will answer the invitation by electing a single consult to visit the valley. As you cast your vote tonight, remember that we want to present as peaceful in return. You have ten turns to deliberate.” A pale yellow dragon by the name of Wenta turned the first salt urn upside down, its contents streaming out in silky ribbons as the crowd dissolved into chatter.

The youngest dragons huddled together as Trin, Neen’s favorite mate, asked, “Who do you think they’ll choose?”

“Who do you think we’ll choose you mean! We get to cast claw this time.” The dragon next to Trin, called Loonif, reminded them, then continued, “Maybe it’ll be me!” At which two others tackled Loonif to the ground, sand billowing from the mess of limbs and wings. Trin and Neen glanced at each other briefly then joined the fray, wrestling like they did when they were hatchlings.

Wenta shattered the last thin urn with their talon to signal the end of deliberation and the dragons lined up, claws out. Panting, Neen shook out their long purple mane spraying sand on some nearby older dragons who puffed warning smoke in return. When it was their turn to step up to the wet clay tablet, Neen traced Trin’s name in claw without thinking twice.

After the final votes were cast, Tonec’s booming voice reached over the crowd.

“Neen is to be the consult.”

“NEEN?!” Loonif hooted, wings flapping with excitement. “I thought for sure we’d choose an old smoker!”

Neen, stunned and wings flushing, walked through the rings toward the center of the circle as dragons clapped and smiled happily at them. Why in Flame’s name would they choose me, they wondered. Am I that unthreatening?

The next day, Neen still had no answer as they flew north. The cliff that marked both the edge of Neen’s Congress and the start of the valley came into sight, nervous heat gathering in their claws. Though Tonec’s instructions were clear– the only thing you have to do is listen and report to them our boundaries – Neen was more scared about the meeting than they would ever have admitted in front of their yearmates. I’m probably going to say something dumb and accidentally start a war, Neen thought as the Congress of Dragons came into view below.

Neen tipped their talons down to begin a slow descent, glancing back to check that the Fint leaves were still in place. When they looked again at the floor of the valley, they saw that the dragons were already gathered in a semi-circle and had marked a landing spot with something bright and golden. They aimed for the glow but pulled up a little too early, landing hard enough that their talons flashed out for a moment. That’s it, I’ve already failed, thought Neen, eyes to the lit ground. The glow was coming from small creatures Neen had never seen before that scuttled away from the commotion of their awkward landing.

“Welcome, Salt Dragon Consult.” A white-gold dragon not much bigger than Neen stepped forward. “How should we call you?”

“Do you mean my name? I don’t have a job yet. I mean, I’m Neen. Uh, you shall call me Neen?” They cringed at the sound of their own voice.

“Neen,” continued the dragon in a deep, silky voice, “thank you for your presence. We are not here to harm you or the Salt Congress.”

Neen nodded, looking around for the first time at the rest of the gathered dragons. They were glowing too. Neen blinked a few times. All of them were shades of gold and glowing.

“You may call us the Light Congress. We come from a different land mass, across the waters. It has been many generations since we last visited your lands because we have had no reason to do so. Now we come because there is a great threat to all dragons. A passageway has opened in our lands through which non-flying beasts are streaming.” As the leader finished their sentence, a dragon near them collapsed onto the ground, their glow seeming to dim.

“Neen should leave.” Urged a nearby dragon as Neen took a step backwards.

The leader spoke again, “Go, Neen, report to your Congress and come again tomorrow. Tell your dragons they may send a council with you.”

Neen stood frozen, staring at the still dragon on the ground as surrounding dragons seemed to flicker. “Go.” They urged softly again.

Neen lept into the air, looking back only once at the soft light of the dragons in the valley before leveling out and turning towards home. Beasts? They wondered with a shutter. Passageway? What does that even mean? Are these dragons confused? Neen didn’t know how they were going to explain what just happened to Tonec let alone admit that they completely forgot to relay Salt Congress boundaries to the new dragons.

As they heard Neen’s thoughts, Tonec slid into flight beside them. “What happened?” They asked.

“Just because you birthed me doesn’t mean you get to shadow me. I could’ve made it home on my own.” Neen responded with a little less fire than they usually had.

“I know.” Tonec said. “I’m just eager to hear.” As they said this, they tilted their massive head toward Neen’s cheek and let out a warm breath, a sign of honesty.

Neen described the meeting and waited for Tonec to scold them for forgetting instructions but they didn’t. Instead they grunted in acknowledgement and… curiosity? Neen wasn’t sure. Tonec sent them to hammock early and Neen was glad to go. They settled in with Mint and pulled the hammock over their wings, falling into a deep sleep despite all the questions swirling between their big, pointed ears.

Before the suns rose, Trin was yanking their wings. “Neen, NEEN! Wake up.”

“What, Trin? I’ll tell you about it when I’m not asleep!”

“No. Neen, listen. The small council is meeting with scouts right now. Neen, all the dragons in the valley are dead.”