The SeaWing Prince

Fathom, the two-year-old Prince of the Sea, was a vision of tranquil beauty. His scales shimmered with ever-shifting patterns, reflecting the gentle green and blue hues of his undersea world. He was adored by all, a tiny, impossibly cute dragon with eyes that held the wisdom of the ocean and an unwavering sense of delight. As an animus dragon, Fathom possessed unique gifts, including the ability to communicate with sea creatures and a special touch that brought an immediate sense of calm and peace to any living thing. He was truly one with the sea, able to blend seamlessly with his surroundings until he vanished, leaving no trace for even the most skilled detective.

His chamber, a cavernous space twenty times the size of the palace, lay deep underground and housed a miniature version of the seven seas, a testament to his innate magic. Despite his youth, Fathom was a prodigious intellect, capable of college-level work, though he charmingly feigned normal intelligence to avoid appearing a "smarty pants." He aced every test, of course, a quiet testament to his brilliant mind.

Always by his side, or nestled on his mother Queen Pearl's lap, Fathom was rarely apart from her. He even insisted on a special harness that connected them, a small symbol of his deep affection. The only time he wasn't with his mother or his bodyguard, Indigo, was during school hours.

Indigo, his personal guard, was a blur of almost-purple scales, a fierce and intelligent dragon who was the fastest and best fighter in the entire kingdom. At two years old, she had already passed every grade with flying colors, a testament to her unparalleled intellect and skill. Indigo possessed an extraordinary gift: she could sense dragons across continents, discerning their identities, loyalties, and even their very essence with a single touch. She was impossible to harm, an animus of incredible power, yet despite her formidable abilities, she often found Fathom's leisurely pace trying. Ten minutes per single step was a common occurrence, as Fathom, ever observant, paused to absorb every minute detail of his world, sensing life and memories in even the smallest things.

Alongside Fathom and Indigo was Strongwave, Fathom's stepbrother and closest friend. They were the same age, both deeply connected to Queen Pearl, though Strongwave lacked Fathom's animus abilities, unique diet, and keen observation skills. All the girls at school had a crush on Fathom, except for Indigo, who was strictly his bodyguard, not his friend.

One sun-drenched morning, Fathom, True to his nature, was taking his time strolling through the royal gardens with Indigo. His eyes, full of curiosity, absorbed every dew-kissed leaf and every tiny creature rustling in the undergrowth. Indigo, ever vigilant, scanned their surroundings, her senses extended far beyond their immediate vicinity. "Fathom," she said, her voice a low purr, "we have to be at the Queen's counsel soon. You've taken nearly an hour to cross this one patch of flowers."

Fathom merely smiled, his gaze fixed on a tiny beetle making its way up a blade of grass. "But Indigo," he said, his voice soft and melodious, "look at its determination! Don't you wonder where it's going, what grand adventure awaits it?"

Indigo sighed, a faint puff of warm air. "My grand adventure," she grumbled under her breath, "is getting you to your mother on time." But even as she spoke, a flicker of amusement touched her eyes. Fathom was incorrigible, and despite her impatience, she recognized the extraordinary mind at work.

Suddenly, Indigo’s scales tingled. Her gift flared, and she sensed a disturbance, a ripple of unease far off. It was faint, barely a whisper, but she knew it was there. "There's a subtle discord, far to the west," she informed Fathom, her voice sharper now. "A group of dragons, new to these lands, and their intentions are… clouded."

Fathom, whose fevers sometimes ran hot enough to bake a shark or cold enough to freeze fire, yet never caused alarm, simply tilted his head. He believed in no violence, only peace. "Perhaps they are merely lost," he mused, "or perhaps they seek a new home. Let us approach them with kindness, Indigo. There is always good to be found, even in the shadows."

Indigo, the unbeatable warrior, would have preferred a more direct, perhaps even forceful, approach. But she knew Fathom's way was different. He saw the world through a lens of unwavering optimism, a prince who truly was the Prince of the Sea, destined to bring calm and delight wherever he went. She braced herself for another ten-minute step, knowing that with Fathom, peace was always the first, and only, option.

As Fathom and Indigo continued their slow, deliberate journey, Fathom pausing to observe a particularly interesting pattern in the coral, Indigo’s gift flared with an intensity that made her scales prickle. It wasn't just a handful of dragons anymore; it was an entire tribe, their forms now visible on the distant horizon, moving with a unified purpose that sent a chill down her spine. The air vibrated with their power, a collective strength that even she, the unkillable, the fastest, the best fighter, instinctively recognized as overwhelming. This wasn't a skirmish; it was an invasion.

Her internal alarm bells screamed. Even Fathom's unwavering optimism wouldn't be able to smooth over this. There was no time for negotiations, no room for peaceful resolutions. This was a threat unlike any they had encountered.

"Fathom!" Indigo's voice, usually calm and composed, held a rare urgency. Her usual patience with his slow pace vanished, replaced by a primal need for speed. "We have to go. Now!"

Fathom, for the first time, sensed the shift in her. He looked up, his curious gaze following hers to the distant approaching multitude. Though he sought only good, even he could feel the sheer, unyielding force emanating from the approaching tribe.

Without another word, Indigo scooped up the tiny prince. Her powerful wings beat the water with a force that sent them hurtling through the ocean. Her mind raced, calculating trajectories, sensing every ripple in the water, every shift in the currents. This was beyond her ability to fight; this was about alerting the Queen. The safety of the entire kingdom now rested on their speed. They streaked through the water, a blur of purple and green, towards the familiar glow of the palace, the image of the approaching tribe burned into Indigo's mind.

Indigo burst into the throne room, Fathom still clutched gently in her talons. Queen Pearl, majestic and serene on her coral throne, looked up, her expression shifting from calm to concern at the sight of her usually composed bodyguard's frantic entrance.

"Your Majesty!" Indigo panted, setting Fathom down beside his mother. "A tribe approaches! An entire tribe, and they mean war. I sensed them; their intent is unmistakable. Even I... I don't believe I could face them all."

A murmur rippled through the gathered advisors. Fear, a rare emotion in Queen Pearl's court, began to spread. Fathom, nestled against his mother's side, reached out a tiny talon and gently touched her arm, a wave of calming peace washing over her and those closest to them. But even his soothing presence couldn't fully dispel the gravity of Indigo's words.

Queen Pearl's normally tranquil eyes hardened with resolve. "To arms!" she commanded, her voice ringing through the throne room. "Send out the scouts. Muster the royal guard. Every able-bodied dragon is to prepare for battle. Evacuate the young and the vulnerable to the deepest caves."

Within moments, the palace transformed. The usual peaceful hum of royal life was replaced by the urgent thrum of activity. Dragons, normally focused on scholarly pursuits or artistic endeavors, now donned armor and sharpened their claws. Messengers shot through the water, delivering the Queen's orders across the vast kingdom. Weapons were distributed, defensive formations were reviewed, and the air crackled with a newfound tension.

Strongwave, who had rushed to the throne room as soon as he felt the shift in energy, stood ready beside Fathom, his expression grim. He knew his strengths lay not in animus magic, but he was a loyal protector, and his place was with his family.

Fathom, though small, absorbed every detail. He saw the fear, yes, but also the determination in his people's eyes. He felt their resolve, their love for their Queen and their home. His heart ached for peace, but he understood the necessity of defense. He watched as his kingdom, a place of beauty and tranquility, prepared for a full-on war, a war he hoped, with all his gentle being, could still be avoided.

A collective gasp rippled through the gathered defenders as the vanguard of the approaching tribe broke through the shimmering curtain of the deep ocean. They were unlike any dragons the Seawings had seen before – larger, with scales the color of storm clouds and eyes that glowed with an unsettling, fiery intensity. Their movements were swift and precise, like a predatory current, as they fanned out into a formidable formation.

Queen Pearl, with Fathom still clinging gently to her side, watched from the royal viewing cavern, a strategic point that offered a clear, if unsettling, view of the escalating situation. Beside her, Strongwave stood grimly, his gaze fixed on the approaching host. Indigo, her senses stretched taut, whispered updates, "Their leader is at the front… a massive male, radiating raw power. And there are so many of them, Your Majesty. Their numbers seem endless."

The invading dragons settled, hovering just beyond the range of the Seawing defenses, their sheer presence a suffocating weight in the water. A low, guttural rumble, a sound of challenge and dominance, vibrated through the very currents, shaking the coral foundations of the kingdom. It wasn't a roar of battle, but a declaration of intent, a chilling prelude to the storm that was about to break. Every Seawing dragon braced themselves, the silence before the impending conflict thick with tension. The peaceful kingdom of Queen Pearl was now staring into the face of a terrifying, unknown enemy.

The silence shattered. With a guttural roar, the Seawing dragons charged. They moved as one, a shimmering wave of green and blue, their courage outweighing the grim odds. The water churned, alive with their determined advance.

At the forefront, a streak of almost-purple, Indigo cut through the chaos. Her target was clear: the massive, storm-colored leader of the invading tribe. Fear was an alien concept to her, and her animus-forged body was impervious to harm. She was the embodiment of their best, fastest, and strongest, and she flew with the force of a trident missile, directly for the enemy chieftain.

The opposing tribe met the charge with an equally fierce response. Their ranks surged forward, a wall of dark scales and burning eyes. The water exploded as the two forces collided. Claws raked, teeth snapped, and powerful tails thrashed, kicking up clouds of sand and debris.

But Indigo, with singular focus, breached the initial melee. She moved like lightning, weaving through the desperate, flailing bodies of the enemy dragons. Her senses, normally used to discern distant alliances, were now honed to the immediate danger, anticipating every lunge and parry. In a flash, she was upon the leader, her powerful talons reaching for his throat, a testament to her unwavering loyalty and the desperate hope of her people.

The battle raged around Indigo and the enemy leader, a maelstrom of claw and scale. The chieftain, massive and unyielding, pressed his attack, his movements brutal and efficient. Indigo, for all her unkillable nature, found herself in a deadlock, her strength and speed barely matching his raw power. A crushing blow sent her reeling, momentarily disoriented, and the leader seized his chance, lunging for a killing strike.

Just as his jagged claws descended, a voice, impossibly clear amidst the cacophony of battle, cut through the din. It was Fathom, his small figure perched precariously on Queen Pearl's shoulder, his voice amplified by some unseen animus magic, carrying across the battlefield.

"Focus on your heart, not on the surroundings!" Fathom's words resonated, not just through the water, but within Indigo herself. "You're trying to fight your own fight and save everyone. Focus solely on your fight!"

The words were a revelation. Indigo had been fighting with the weight of the entire kingdom on her shoulders, her senses split between her opponent and the struggling Seawing defenders. Her formidable gifts, usually a strength, were now a distraction. But Fathom's innocent wisdom, his pure focus on the individual, cut through the noise.

A spark ignited within her. She wasn't fighting for the kingdom in that moment; she was fighting for herself, for the challenge, for the sheer joy of the duel. The burden lifted. Her senses, no longer diffused, sharpened, locking onto the enemy leader with laser precision. Her movements became fluid, instinctive, unburdened by the external chaos. The fight became hers and hers alone, a primal dance between two powerful dragons.

mpowered by Fathom's unexpected counsel, Indigo fought with a renewed, almost primal ferocity. Her every move was precise, unburdened by distraction. She anticipated the chieftain's attacks, parried his blows with shocking agility, and found openings where none had existed before. The leader, sensing the shift in her, roared in frustration, but it was too late. With a final, explosive burst of speed, Indigo delivered a devastating blow, sending the massive dragon crashing to the ocean floor.

A stunned silence fell over the battlefield. The invading tribe, seeing their formidable leader fall, faltered. Disbelief, then a chilling wave of fear, rippled through their ranks. Their confident charge dissolved into disarray. A low, guttural cry, passed among their remaining warriors, a vow that sent shivers down the spines of the victorious Seawings: "This is not over! We will come back more powerful than ever!"

With that chilling promise hanging in the water, the invaders turned and retreated, melting back into the depths from which they came, their dark forms disappearing into the murky distance.

The Seawings roared in triumph, a cheer of hard-won victory. But the cost was evident. Indigo, though victorious, lay heavily injured amidst the debris of battle. Her body, usually impervious, was covered in deep gashes and bruises, a testament to the brutal ferocity of her opponent. She pushed herself up, wincing, but her eyes held a fierce light of triumph.

Queen Pearl rushed to her side, followed closely by a worried Strongwave. Fathom, slipping from his mother's grasp, gently touched Indigo's lacerated wing. A wave of profound calm and soothing peace washed over her, easing the throbbing pain, but not erasing the extent of her injuries. She had won, but the promise of their return, more powerful than ever, lingered like a cold shadow in the warm embrace of their victory.

he Seawing triumph was tempered by the sight of their wounded. Strongwave, battered and bruised, his scales scraped and his fins torn, had nevertheless fought his way through the retreating enemy and the celebrating Seawings to reach Indigo. His loyalty was unwavering; he knelt beside her, a worried frown creasing his brow, despite his own injuries.

Nearby, a small, shimmering figure moved through the scattered combatants. Fathom, ever the gentle prince, didn't fight back in the traditional sense. When a stray enemy dragon, disoriented or desperate, stumbled too close to Queen Pearl or the wounded, Fathom simply extended a tiny talon. A soft, iridescent glow emanated from his scales, and with an unseen push of animus magic, the encroaching dragon would find itself gently but firmly propelled backward, away from harm, without a single scale being broken. He was a beacon of peace in the aftermath of chaos, a quiet force ensuring no further violence transpired.

Queen Pearl oversaw the immediate aid for the wounded, her eyes constantly returning to her unkillable bodyguard and her unusually powerful, yet infinitely gentle, son. The battle was won, but the promise of a return, more powerful than ever, echoed in the stillness of the ocean. The kingdom had faced a grave threat and survived, but the peace they cherished now felt more fragile than ever. But for the time being the kingdom was safe and that was all that mattered right now.

The End