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When a dragon finds his mate, it isn't simply any mate. Not the way a wolf mates and raises its pups.

No, a dragon's mate is it's soulmate--a missing puzzle piece. They are the light to every dark point in a dragon's life.

A Dragon Proverb

Chapter 6

A lone dragon flew through the vast night, his scales sky blue dyed the color of the ocean beneath the night sky, his wings buffeting the air keeping him aloft. His thoughts spiraled out of control, never lingering on one topic for long, but all of these thoughts always circled back to the hatchling from a day ago--the one he rescued from the clutches of the dark dragon, both in scales and in spirit.

Cyndrilthil's thoughts returned to the same questions: what happened to the poor hatchling to cause his scars? And what was his past with the black-scaled dragon?

He released a deep sigh, smoke escaping his nostrils as tendrils alongside him in flight. These questions wouldn't have answers until the hatchling woke up.

A deer sprinted away when Cyndrilthil landed near the familiar rocky opening nestled among the forest. Unlike most nights, Ymithia was not waiting for him. Tonight, she was helping with the whelp, so he would be sleeping alone. The elders were asleep when they returned; they would wait until morning to decide the hatchling's fate. For now, sleep was the priority.

The hatchling's wounds were not only severe--gashes splitting his scales, wings folded at unnatural angles, swelling across his body that must have been painful--but his malnutrition was evident. His scales lacked the luster of a healthy dragon, duller than Cyndrilthil had seen before. There was a past hidden beneath the hatchling's surface--a past between him and that dark magic user. Cyndrilthil's gut screamed at him: Something is wrong! But he couldn't place it, and that was worrisome in its own rite.

Cyndrilthil curled against the floor, wrapping his tail around his body, finally allowing his wings to rest at his sides. Although he was exhausted, without the familiar presence of Ymithia by his side, he feared sleep would be a long time coming.

Things were not going well. When the dragon ripped his wing off, he tore through the muscle. Regrowing muscle was a long and arduous process, and though the magic was certainly speeding up the process, it still worked slow--painstakingly slow.

Ymithia was among the first of the healers asked to attend to the dragon. They worked in groups, trading off duties as they exhausted their mana and energy to avoid illness from overexertion. Ymithia already took her first break a little while ago. Eating a small boar worked wonders.

Ymithia was determined to see this through.

Her heart ached for this poor hatchling. His scars told of a horrific past; his scale color indicated lack of food or poor mental health--possibly a combination of the two.

When they first started tending to the hatchling, they couldn't simply sew the wing back together. One of the healers had to hold the wing steady while another mended and regrew the muscles together. Once that was finished, the veins would have to be completely reconstructed, otherwise blood wouldn't flow to the wing and keep it healthy. Magic, of course, was a crucial step to this process because of the severity. Without it, the whelp would have died out in that forest.

Ymithia saved the young hatchling, pouring all of her mana into keeping the young drake alive. Without expending a part of herself, his wounds would have claimed his life, and she had refused to let that happen. For some reason, she felt tied to this young dragon. Her heart wanted to reach out to him and protect him for reasons she could not say.

"It's time to hand off."

An older dragon walked into the room, her scales a mix of dark brown and deep orange spots, beige horns and spikes along her spine catching the low light, Furest. Her wings were the same color as her body, but her belly was a lighter brown, reminding Ymithia of the trees in the nearby forest.

"Let me know when you're ready," Ymithia responded. If the process stopped, even for a second, it would have to be restarted, and the chance of success would decrease. Each handoff had to be precise.

Furest approached before casting her magic, a soft brown light emanating from her outstretched paw..

In a moment, the handoff was complete. Ymithia walked out, bones aching and thoughts drowsy.

The night was chilly when Ymithia exited the infirmary with only sleep on her mind. She already found herself caring deeply for the hatchling, but he was draining her energy. She didn't know how she would make it through another healing session of expending mana and energy. Pushing this aside, Ymithia took off into the starry sky with a flap of her wings--home to her mate.

My roar echoed through the night as Draconus ripped through my wings. He took his time, enjoying every second of pain he forced upon me. The warmth of blood oozed from the slashes over my wing membranes, sticky red smearing across Draconus's paws. His manic eyes alight with joy were cold and unforgiving at the same time, like a snowstorm of merciless, cutting winds.

His jaws snapped around my wing, wrenching it apart with his teeth. I expected a wash of pain, but instead, I felt nothing--a hole. Empty. Something had been lost.

Draconus tilted his head toward the sky, my wing between his jaws in a heap of dripping flesh, my own blood spilling across my belly.

Something died inside me--glass shattering into a thousand pieces. There was no pain, only the slow processing of what I was witnessing. Emotions spun like a hurricane around me. The world moved fast and seemingly not at all. My wing. My wing was torn away from me.

My flight.

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer underneath Draconus's paw shoving me into the ground. I was beneath Arlya.

"Silly dragon, are you okay?" Arlya chimed, snapping me from my reverie.

"Hmm?" It took me a second to understand her words. "Yeah, I'm fi--"

She shattered.

Arlya broke apart--like glass--shattering in front of my eyes. Her wings sloughed from the body, slack under the weight of crimson blood. Bite marks manifested across her body, each of them an oozing arc turning to rivers.

Her body collapsed into the dirt, lifelessly tumbling from the branch from which she perched. She struck the ground in a cloud of dust and debris.

"Arlya?" I called, willing myself to get up, clawing at the ground.

Pain singed down my back in a rush of heat and needles. I craned my neck to reach Arlya, but before I could lift my paw, Draconus dived down and snatched Arlya's body between his jaws. He snapped his head back, sinking his teeth into and swallowing her body in a bloody mass. Bubbled drool of red leaked down his neck as his eyes cast down to me.

He grew, doubling his size in seconds before snatching me up and swallowing me. My stomach rose into my throat as I fell, weightlessness gripping me like a vice before dropping my stomach as I collided in a massive sea. My lungs pulled me to the surface like a buoy. When I broke through the surface, I was met with pelting rain.

My chest burned with each gasp. I gulped a lungful of air before another wave broke over me, plunging me into the depths again.

The currents began to spin, forming a whirlpool that pulled me deeper. I pawed fruitlessly for the surface growing duller, fading from sight. The cool of the depths wrapped around me, each swing of my arms becoming more laborious until my limbs hardened to lead.

And all was consumed in darkness, encroaching as shadow.

Ymithia returned late into the night, trudging through the low doorway and collapsing next to Cyndrilthil without a word. He knew not to wake her; she would be asleep for the rest of the day. Despite everything on Cyndrilthil's mind, he was content just to have his mate home safe and sound.

He tried not to wake her as he rose for the morning, creeping out of the den into the warm light crawling through the sturdy forest trunks. If he wanted to be home when she woke, he would have to face his tasks now--caring for the hatchling, finding healers, trying to find a sense of normalcy in this chaos.

The mountain itself was rather small, several entrances were created along the mountain, each leading to a different room. Each room had a square built into them where fresh air and sunlight could enter. It was amazing how those two things could increase one's ability to heal, either physically for some creatures, like Griffons who contain cells in their feathers that increase the rate at which they heal, or emotionally for others like dragons and harpies.

When Cyndrilthil reached the opening, two guards were there flanking the entrance. One a bright purple the color of a sunset-scaled dragoness with purple eyes to match, her belly a bright white, two horns protruded from her head with fins reaching down her spine. The other a light green the color of grass, his eyes black and cold as his gaze met mine, four horns protruded from the back of his head with arched spikes going down his spine, his belly light brown which aided in his camouflage.

"Good morning Endra, Slithril," Cyndrilthil greeted as he strode forward, head tilted high in feigned confidence.

Cyndrilthil was met with outstretched wings halting his entrance.

"None may enter," Endra declared in a silken voice.

Cyndrilthil held Endra's gaze, but she was unwavering.

"Slithril," he said in a low, cold tone. "How about you let me enter?"

Slithril repeated: "None may enter." Unyielding.

"Let me see the hatchling!"

"The healers are not done with him yet. Until then, we are ordered not to permit any dragon past this point, not even the elders," Slithril explained.

They aren't done yet? They've been working through the whole night. How bad were his wounds?

Cyndrilthil couldn't take on both of them by himself. If Ymithia was here, she could distract them long enough for one of them to get through.

"Send a message when I can see him," Cyndrilthil told them before taking off. all that was left was to pay a visit to the elders.

The elders lived in the center of Dravawynn, perfectly central to any location they frequent. Although, this was according to the elders. In truth, the territory isn't a nice, neat circle of surrounding communities nor are the elders' living quarters centrally located. Why they are located there, Cyndrilthil doesn't know.

Cyndrilthil was met again with guards when he arrived at the elders' living quarters, these two far more stubborn than Endra and Slithril. He had good intentions--he really did. But when he was met with guards again, he grew angry, lashing his tail in defiance before he had even landed. Filled with anger that seemed to boil his blood he moved his tail like a whip scraping across ones scaled front, intending to distract them long enough he could slip through. But they fought back, colliding with Cyndrithil in a pile of piercing claws and gnashing teeth before finally driving him away.

When Cyndrilthil returned home, the sun was high overhead, streams of light casting through the forest canopy. Relief washed over him as he landed in the cool shade outside of his home, finally offering him a chance to rest his wings after a morning of near-constant flight. He caught the familiar scent of deer blood on the air, an earthy, welcoming smell that told Cyndrilthil his mate was awake.

He wandered inside to the fresh remains of a finished meal, skin, antlers, and hooves in a neat pile beside the door. In the alcove, Ymithia was asleep, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. She lay curled in the shape of a crescent moon--though the moon could never match her beauty. Even after twenty years of time together, his heart throbbed every time he laid eyes on her, swelling with emotions. Ymithia was Cyndrilthil's light in the dark; he would truly do anything for her.

Cyndrilthil stretched into the floor, wrapping a loving wing and softly curling his tail around Ymithia. In the gentle silence, he watched as she slept.

"It's not nice to stare," rose a sweet voice.

"Is that what I was doing?" Cyndrilthil responded teasingly.

Her lips parted in a sleepy smile

"How was your rest?" Cyndrilthil asked, nuzzling her.

"Restful, although, it would have been better if you had stayed instead of leaving."

Truly nothing gets past you.

"I had a few things I wanted to do," he explains.

"And was one of those things checking on the hatchling?" she asked.

Her scales rubbing his own. He loved that feeling. Being with her was right in every way, like flying high above the clouds.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about him," he says softly.

"You wouldn't be the only one," she says. "Since I woke up, he's been on my mind. There's something about him--my gut is screaming at me, telling me to protect him."

"I wanted to ask you something, but it may seem weird."

"Whenever has that stopped you?" she retorted, eyes alight.

"I think we should take him in. The elders are deep in their den. They won't be back for a while. The choice will be with the clan whether to take him in or not."

"Yes," comes her quick reply.

"What?" I responded.

"Well, we've always wanted a hatchling or two of our own, but with all the dark magic going on it's been hard to find the time. And besides, this gives us the chance to see what it would be like to raise a dragon."

"That means though we will be taking on everything--his past. There is a clear darkness there. And his future--we will have to teach him everything: how to hunt, how to use magic, how to fly, and how to be a dragon. Are we ready for that?"

"That's the funny thing: I think no matter how much we prepare, his past will always be a shadow. But his future--we can make it one worth living to see. I truly believe this is the right decision. We should take him in as our own.

***

The following day, the whole clan was abuzz by daybreak. Everyone heard the news about the hatchling. Now, it was time to decide his fate.

The clan met on the mountainside in a cavern just large enough to house them all. They gathered around a bonfire that illuminated the stone in golden light. As the rest of the clan arrived, the cavern echoed with many voices.

An older dragon moved nearer to the fire, the light reflecting off his white scales in rainbow flares. He had a single pair of horns that matched his scales with arched spikes going down the length of his spine. His name was Xithris. Cyndrilthil and he grew up together. Though he had been born a few years before Cyndrilthil, they were close.

"As you all have heard the news, a new dragon has entered our territory gravely wounded in a fight with a dark magic user. Ymithia and Cyndrithil found him and rushed him here where healers are still tending to him at this moment. Today, we are here to determine the fate of this young dragon, who is around the age of ten years old. Without wasting any more time, I will now ask the question: should this dragon be allowed to stay in our lands as one of us?"

Cyndrilthil catches fragments of words exchanged among the others:

"How do we know he hasn't used dark magic?"

"What's his past with the dark magic user?"

"Is he a danger to our young?"

A few moments passed before the cavern once again became quiet.

"As far as we can tell, he has used dark magic. Though a brief look into his heart told me he has deeply regretted it since. Not knowing what happened to his past, it's likely he used it in order to survive or perhaps escape from the one trying to kill him. But as far as we can tell, he is not a danger to our young. If he was, we wouldn't be here discussing this," Xithris said, his tenor voice resonating around the room.

"What's to say he won't use dark magic again?" came from across the cavern.

"When I looked into his heart earlier, his guilt was nearly crushing him. And while I don't know what spell he used, it's clear his heart feels heavy from it. I think as long as he feels that guilt and knows that using dark magic is forbidden on pain of death, he won't use it again," Xithris explained with intent.

Dragons around the room nodded their agreement, while others looked concerned, their eyes downcast and full of worry. Most of them were parents thinking about their young.

"If there are no objections, let us bring this decision to its finale. Should the young dragon be allowed to stay as one of us, or should he be exiled from our lands?"

Ymithia and Cyndrilthil raised their wings in agreement.

Slowly, one after another raised their wings. Finally, after waiting with outstretched wings for what seemed like forever, the vote ended. Over half the clan had raised their wings in agreement of letting him stay. The ones who withheld their vote were parents Cyndrilthil knew well. They meant no harm to the hatchling, but concern for their own young was reflected in their vote.

"The hatchling, if he wants, will stay in our territory as one of us. However, he is still too young to fend for himself. Who will take him in and raise him as one of us?" Xithris posed the question to the clan.

This was the moment Cyndrilthil and Ymithia had prepared for, and they did not hesitate to stand. They accepted the full responsibility of the hatchling.

All eyes fell to them.

"I would say I'm surprised, but I'm not," Xithris announced.

"Come on Xithris, you know we have always wanted a hatchling of our own.'' Cyndrilthil approached Xithris, wrapping him in his wings the way they used to; they were practically brothers.

"And whose fault is that? You two take on nearly every mission there is, no wonder there's no time for you two."

"Well, someone has to protect the world," Ymithia responded with a streak of pride.

"There are over a hundred dragons here, all trained to fight dark magic. Let some of them take your missions," he told us with a smirk. "Besides, you do realize as soon as you take him in, if he even wants you two as parents--"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ymithia cut in.

"I was kidding, but it is his choice: whether he wants to live with you or not."

Cyndrilthil and Ymithia knew this well.

"You two would make great parents," Xithris said. "If you two become parents, there won't be much time for your missions. He will be your priority. Do you understand?" he asked. There was no playfulness left in his tone.

"We understand" Ymithia responded on her and her mate's behalf.

"Very well. Since the elders are not here, I will ask you the questions myself. Do you accept responsibility for the whelp?"

"We do."

If everything went to plan, they would finally become parents.

"Should the whelp use dark magic, do you swear to take his life yourselves?"

It was a terrible thought to consider. Cyndrilthil wasn't expecting to be asked that question so bluntly. But without hesitation, he and Ymithia both responded, "We do."

"And finally, do you swear to be the best parents you can be, love him as your own son, to care for him even on his worst days, do you swear by any means necessary, you will protect him as if he was your own flesh and blood?"

"We do."

"Very well," Xithris declared. "Should the hatchling wish it, you will be his parents."

With that, the meeting was adjourned. As the others flew off, emptying the cavern, Cyndrilthil and Ymithia stayed behind.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Xithris asked.

"Is anyone ever really ready to become a parent?" Ymithia responded.

"No, I suppose not, but know that should you ever need anything our promise still stands," Xithris said, his eyes meeting Cyndrilthil's.

"Our promise has always stood. The same can be said for you," Cyndrilthil responded.

Long ago, we had made a promise, should either one of us ever need something, should we ever get in trouble, the other would go through hell and high water to help them.

"Very well, when he wakes, you two will be the first to know. However, I would like to be there as well with my gift of truth. I have a few questions I need to ask him."

Xithris has the ability to tell truth from lie. Not only that, but his ability allows him to look into another's heart and see the truth or raw emotion that is strongest at that time. It explains how he knows about the young dragon's guilt. It's impossible to lie to him. Cyndrilthil has tried many times before, each of them unsuccessful, it's part of what had caused them to grow so close.

"Very well. When we are notified, we will come and let you know."

"Thank you," Xithris said. "Now, if you will excuse me. I have somewhere I need to be."

"Oh, did you finally find someone special?" Cyndrithil teased with a low chuckle.

"Perhaps, now I will be on my way."

"Goodbye, Xithris.'' Cyndrilthil called to him as he leapt into the sky, his powerful wings lifting him higher into the air.

"Shall we go home, Cyndrithil?" Ymithia asked while she nestled her head against her mate's chin.

"Yes, let's go home and await news of our possible new hatchling."

"We have a lot to do before we take him home. We should start right away." Ymithia said, joy radiating off every scale like the sun just before she took off.

Indeed, there was a lot to do. For now, they would do their best and hope the hatchling would have them as his parents.

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