Page 1 of Pets in Space 10

The Dragon World

The waters shimmered like liquid crystal, weaving through the dense, root-tangled mangroves of the canopy-veiled delta.

Sunlight streamed down in golden shafts, dancing across the gentle currents and illuminating schools of glass-winged fish that glided between the waving fronds of fern-like seagrass.

The riverbed glowed with aquatic life. Violet, gold, and fire-orange marine creatures in varying shapes and sizes flitted through the underwater world while delicate bubble-leaf pods spiraled lazily toward the surface and popped with soft chiming notes.

Tiny bubbles swirled as the water was disrupted, scattering a school of silvertails. A half-dozen small water dragons zipped through the dazzling underwater world, twisting and tumbling in a joyful game of tag.

“You’re it, Pug!” Lilypad chirped, her voice ringing with glee as she popped out from behind a mangrove root, the damp earth clinging to her paws, and tagged her brother’s tail.

“Aw, Lil, that’s the third time in a row!” Pug groaned.

Lilypad giggled as Pug twisted in a blur of sapphire and cobalt, his fins and wings tipped in glowing cerulean.

She had patiently watched and waited as her brother’s long, sleek body darted through a nest of swaying reed-antlers before looping back toward the roots of a blackbark mangrove.

His bioluminescent stripes pulsed with excitement.

“You’re too slow!” she teased, laughing as she released a stream of bubbles and spun like a corkscrew.

“That’s because I’m bigger and stronger than you!” Pug shot back, flicking his tail in mock outrage as he chased after her.

Lilypad laughed again as she darted away from the rest of the group.

She was smaller but faster. Her scales were a kaleidoscope of shimmering pinks, reds, and violets.

She tucked her delicate wings along her side and used her tail to propel her through the maze of underwater roots.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief and her giggles rang like musical chimes through the water.

She careened past a herd of drifting bloom jellies, leaving a trail of swirling glittering bubbles behind her.

“Lil, wait up,” Pug called.

Lilypad propelled her body upward, landing on a large floating Nymphaea. She shook the water from her body and turned to look behind her. She and Pug had wandered farther than usual from their pod in their play, weaving through the thick mangrove roots and rising stalks of redlace kelp.

Lilypad watched Pug poke his head out of the water, then climb onto a low-hanging branch before he flattened himself against the slick bark.

He grinned at her as she floated by on the slow current.

The large green pad with the pink and white flower twisted in a slow, lazy circle.

She knew he was about to pounce on her before his eyes narrowed and he blinked.

Turning to follow his gaze, she saw a glint beneath the water’s surface, partially hidden by the soft, decaying leaves of the riverbed. Sunlight shone off a speck of gold.

With a delighted squeal, she slipped off her raft just as Pug dove in from above.

“I saw it first!” he hollered.

“You may have seen it first, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get it!” she countered.

They twisted and tumbled in the water, laughing and nipping in a blur of scales and bubbles as they playfully fought for the shiny prize. Lilypad snatched it up and tucked it into the hidden pouch at her belly before Pug could react.

“Not fair!” he cried, chasing her as she flicked her tail and darted toward the surface.

Pug leaped out of the water, landing on a floating driftwood branch while Lilypad flipped up onto an enormous green caerulea, its edges rimmed with dark blue blossoms that released a sweet fragrance into the air.

The sky above was a soft lavender hue with two suns hanging low behind the mist-covered cliffs that bordered the delta.

Rainbow birds soared overhead, their wings trailing sparkling spores.

Pug huffed. “What is it?”

Lilypad giggled and pulled the object from her pouch. The gold ring glowed faintly, its surface etched with delicate symbols that pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Maybe it’s treasure!” she said.

“Grandmother would know,” Pug muttered, his eyes wide with wonder.

“She will want to keep it for herself,” Lilypad scoffed, spinning it around the tip of her finger.

Pug snorted and grinned. “True. What are you-?”

Pug’s question was cut off when a piercing screech shattered the tranquil air.

Both dragons jerked upright.

“That was mom!” Pug said, diving into the water.

Lilypad shoved the ring back into her pouch and shot after him, her heart pounding. The world around them darkened as they swam faster, branches closing in, water plants brushing against their scales like pleading hands.

They burst around a bend — and froze.

Their pod was under attack.

Six massive serpents writhed in the water, their eyes glowing amber, their fangs glistening with paralytic venom. The pod fought back fiercely — spikes of water magic sliced through the river — but they were outmatched. One youngling screamed as it was snatched by a serpentine coil.

“Pug, wait!” Lilypad cried as he surged forward, his teeth bared.

He joined the fight, releasing a geyser that knocked the serpent holding the youngling back. Lilypad followed, her fear swallowed by fury as she raced forward, teeth clenched, to wrench the terrified hatchling from the serpent’s grasp.

She turned invisible as a serpent lunged at her, narrowly escaping its snapping jaws.

She reappeared just in time to see another serpent’s tail wrap around Pug’s waist, slowly beginning to crush him.

“No!” she screamed.

Without thinking, she launched herself out of the water and spat a flurry of needle-thin water spears into the creature’s hide. It roared in pain and dropped her brother. She caught Pug mid-fall, dragging his limp body through the thick water.

Behind her, the serpent gave chase.

Lilypad weaved through the fallen mangrove branches and swaying grasses, her front paws wrapped tightly around Pug’s limp form. The current was growing stronger. They passed through a curtain of glitter moss and emerged into deeper waters where the river’s bed turned rocky.

The current took them before she could react.

She cried out in distress and flared her fins, trying to slow their forward movement, but it was no use.

The serpent was gaining even with the swift current helping to propel them.

“Please, dragon spirit of the water, please help us,” she whispered, clutching her brother. “Take us somewhere safe.”

The current twisted into a vortex. The light shifted.

Lilypad felt a warmth against her belly. She released one hand around Pug and fumbled for the treasure they had found earlier. She wrapped her arm back around Pug while still clutching the ring.

Fear pulsed through her. The waterfall loomed ahead. They were trapped between the serpent and it. Her grip on the ring loosened. A powerful impulse to make a wish and release the ring pushed at her.

“Oh, please keep us safe,” she cried out, clutching Pug, and closed her eyes as they slipped over the edge and became weightless.

The ring slipped from her fingers — and expanded, unraveling into a gaping black void as the serpent surged forward, its jaws revealing rows of sharp, venomous teeth —

***

Enyo: Mage Council Headquarters

The domed atrium of the Enyo Mage Archives glowed softly with ambient light, the radiance emanating from the braided ley lines embedded in the walls and floor.

The room pulsated with the magic contained within the vast library of knowledge.

It was a place where magic was studied, not fled from.

Towering crystal pillars spiraled upward to a ceiling that shimmered with illusion: a sky of shifting constellations and wisps of violet clouds drifting lazily across a sunless firmament.

Below, the warm scent of parchment, ink, and aged spellwork lingered in the air, grounding the beauty in something older, quieter, and profoundly familiar.

Harmonia Stormhold sat alone at a crescent-shaped table beneath one of the sky-windows, a half-inked glyph trembling on her parchment.

The quill in her hand hovered in midair, forgotten.

Her other hand rested on an ancient leather-bound tome, its edges glowing faintly with the remnants of her father’s enchantments.

But Harmonia wasn’t reading.

Her gaze had drifted to the reflection in the polished stone table — the shimmer of her dark brown braid, the tight press of her mouth, the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

She felt it again.

That restlessness.

Her fingers twitched against the parchment. A part of her wanted to drop the quill, leave the tower, and follow the pull she’d been ignoring for far too long.

“Get ahold of yourself,” she muttered, staring down at the wavering image she was working on.

Lately, the quiet reverence of teaching apprentices and assisting the Council no longer filled her the way it used to.

Her mind itched for discovery, for exploration.

Her heart longed for the exhilaration of stepping through a new portal or unlocking a mystery older than the Mage-line itself.

She had the mind of a researcher — like her parents, Arastan and Lyia — and it was growing harder to deny where her spirit truly wanted to be.

A soft chime echoed through the atrium.

Harmonia blinked and looked up.

Eirene, Head of the Mage Council, entered with silent grace, her midnight blue robes gliding behind her like shadowed water. There was something different about her — an urgency beneath her usual serenity. Harmonia rose and offered a respectful nod.

“Eirene,” she greeted.

The elder mage smiled gently, but it quickly faded into something more serious. Her pale eyes drifted to the tome beneath Harmonia’s hand. “That one… It’s one of your father’s, isn’t it?”

Harmonia followed her gaze. “Yes. Each ring was paired with a tome. A written echo of his journeys, his observations. He always said the rings recorded more than he intended. That they began to… connect with the worlds and the creatures within them.”

Eirene’s brow furrowed. “And you believe that connection still exists?”

“I think it’s evolved,” Harmonia replied, stepping back and folding her arms. “Wynter’s mother, Queen Larenta…

was powerful. Ancient magic flowed through her veins.

My father thought that when she cast her last protection spell — the one that sent Wynter through the portal — it didn’t just protect Wynter.

It fused with the magic of the ring and the tomes.

I believe that magic has spread, either through her or through Wynter. ”

“You think the magic came from Larenta — but what if it was your father?” Eirene inquired.

Harmonia’s throat constricted and her fingers curled where they lay on the tome.

That unpretentious inquiry was anything but simple.

Was Eirene asking if her father had used dark magic in his spells on the rings he created?

Memories of previous accusations against Wynter made her shy away from answering.

She was aware of the stigma attached to her family name.

The Stormholds came from a powerful and ancient line.

They also had more than their share of skeletons in their closet.

“Mage Councilman Faunus has done exhaustive research on Father’s spells on both the rings and the tomes.

Nothing indicated an issue with the spells he used.

The rings were designed for observation only, not as a portal between worlds.

Faunus concluded that Larenta and Wynter’s magic was the connection to creating the portals.

No one else has used them as such,” she replied, folding her hands in front of her and crossing her fingers on the small fib she told.

Eirene stepped closer to the table and ran her fingers along the spine of the tome Harmonia had been documenting.

The tome was a family heirloom, treasured by the family for the history detailed inside.

Her father’s magic glowed from it because he had been the last one to post an entry – the spell he cast on the rings and tomes.

Eirene laid her hand over the glowing script. “We’ve felt a disturbance. Something has shifted in the threads of magic — something subtle.”

Harmonia’s heart skipped. “I felt it as well. Do you think there is danger? Do you-do you think it was caused by one of my father’s rings?”

Eirene nodded slowly. “Yes. I think there is danger. I need you to track it.”

For a moment, Harmonia just stared at her. “You… you want me to investigate? Shouldn’t one of the Mage Council’s investigators or enforcers handle it? I mean, I’m just an apprentice — a teacher. I have no field experience.”

Eirene’s lips curved with amusement. “You are Arastan’s daughter.

You have been studying the rings and tomes longer than anyone besides your father.

You know how they work, but better than that, you know your father’s magic.

He and your mother are on Erindale with Wynter and Khalid.

I don’t want to bother them. No one understands the rhythm of the rings better.

You’ve always had a gift for tracing magical signatures and seeing details that others miss. ”

A slow warmth spread through Harmonia’s chest at the compliment. The Mage Council rarely issued field assignments to assistants. That Eirene had chosen her meant something.

She bowed her head. “I’ll begin my research immediately.”