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Xolta

Many years ago, I wanted a hatchling of my own, then I swore that I would never have a child.

80 years ago

I had been summoned by the elders of my clan. Apparently, it was so important that they wouldn't let me finish scouting for the dark magic user that had popped up recently. No, whatever they wanted was far more important than finding someone who used dark magic, but whatever, not my problem anymore, apparently.

Unlike the vast majority of dragon clans who used a mountain to house their elders, here they were more...Particular when it came to finding a den.

Usually, to keep things simple, the elders all lived in the same place, well not these elders, they all lived someplace else in the territory, and that drove dragons insane; right now, that was me.

The first elder I flew to was named Tennit. He was the youngest of the elders though still much older than me, and that youth brought a vast amount of energy with it.

Our flight to the next dragon was filled with non-stop talking, Tennit jabbering on and on about useless facts that would never benefit anyone under any circumstances, like "Did you know griffons are the only creatures who hoard treasure?"

Who cares! I nearly shot at him, but I kept my jaws shut. Angering an elder always had consequences, mainly guilt trips.

The following dragon we picked up was named Pira, she was the exact opposite of Tennit, and like me, his jabbering annoyed the hell out of her since her eyes darkened like storm clouds.

"Are you seriously that lonely, you old coot?"

Tennit had scales of amber, his horns protruding forward, his eyes were a lighter amber color, Pira had a scaled hide the color of the setting sun, a brilliant orange, her eyes white like the moon.

It was customary in our clan for the summoned dragon to pick up at least two of the elders before meeting with the others. I guess that way, they didn't have to listen to Tennit rant about useless crap.

I did my best to ignore Tennit as we made our way to the last stop, where three other dragons were waiting for us.

Three stone pillars rose on either side of them, each one telling a different story about dragon kind. I never stopped to look at them, deeming it a waste of my time.

The other three dragons were Xyrig, whose scales were black, the color of the midnight sky. In the middle was Airswyth, his scales mixed with white and blue like the winds portrayed in paintings. And finally, Zyrapha's scaled form was one of the most beautiful I've ever seen, though I'd never say that out loud. Her scales were black, her belly a light grey, but that's where the normalcy ended. Her wings were a blend of colors, from black at the carpal going from dark red all the way to a light pink at the phalanx.

As we landed, the two elders behind me went to sit beside the others, and their gazes rested on me.

"So tell me, what was so important you summoned me here? You don't particularly summon people unless it's essential." I said to them, my frustration over being forcibly summoned with no questions asked made evident in my voice.

"You are here because you have a decision to make," Xyrig said before Zyrapha spoke up.

"Last night, a hatchling's parents were killed amidst a battle with someone who uses dark magic," she said, my jaw dropping in surprise.

It took a very skilled user in dark magic to take down a trained dragon who was trained just for combating dark magic and its... Special effects, things like this rarely happened.

"The hatchling needs someone to take care of her, and since you haven't yet found your mate and have always wanted a hatchling of your own, we figured you would take her in."

"Her? So it's female then, interesting, though their explanations were accurate, it still left one question unanswered."

"And why am I qualified for this? I hardly have any experience when it comes to raising a dragon."

Zyrapha shifted her limp wing ever so slightly like she was hiding something there.

"When becoming a parent for the first time, no one has any idea what they are doing, yet they do it anyway, trial and error, we chose you because you have something in common with this hatchling that most don't," Zyrpaha said.

"I figured as much. I needed to hear it from them, though. My parents, too, were killed when I was young, though I was nearly ready to live on my own by then. From the sounds of it, this dragon is still very young."

"What is the dragon's name?" I said, stepping closer to them, their bodies relaxed visibly, the tenseness in their shoulders leaving, as one they laid on their bellies. Zyrapha took extra care with her wing as she did, making sure it didn't fold.

"I always found it weird how they always seemed to act like one."

"So you will take her in?" Pira asked.

I walked a step closer to them, taking the time to decipher each one's emotions in their eyes.

They seemed honest, though, with them, they always had some other agenda. I was worried about that. However, right now, my main concern is the hatchling.

"I will if she will have me."

"While it was their choice to entrust me with her, it will always be her final decision that made me a mother or not."

"Her name is Yeara," Zyrapha said before moving her wing, which had been slightly splayed out, revealing the hatchling.

Her scales were like mine, a bright red like smoldering coals. The only difference was her wings. A deep black-like obsidian covered her membranes while the carpals and phalanx were red.

Her eyes sparkled in a mix of black and red, one-moment red and the next black, then combining and mixing in a swirl.

"Yeara, you have been here the whole time. Would you like Xolta to be your mother?"

Zyrapha angled her snout right in front of Yeara's.

"I should have known she was here the whole time. The elders always have something going on in the background. She was small, most likely fresh out of her egg. What were her parents doing fighting right after she hatched?"

Something didn't sit right with me. This whole situation felt off. I chalked it up to the potential of becoming a mother, but deep down, I always knew.

Yeara looked at me for a long moment, her eyes seeming to bore into my very soul. Finally, she tore away and nodded her head, taking a moment to crawl underneath Zyrapha's wing.

She was shy, how cute!

She was adorable. Joy filled my heart, giving it wings and letting it soar when I realized I had become a mother, though maybe not in a conventional way, she was now my daughter nonetheless, and I couldn't be happier.

If only I had said no, perhaps I would have been spared everything that came later.

It was night by the time we got home. I carried Yeara in the crook of my arm, her wings too small and weak to lift her.

My den was modest, just a small cave carved into the side of a large hill, around which a large forest stretched as far as the eye could see, their leaves just starting to change, hints of red, yellow and orange touching the tips, Fall always was my favorite season, the forest around a sea of vibrant colors.

Yeara walked beside me as we entered, her slight form slightly larger than my paws.

In the farthest reaches was where I usually slept, but tonight I wouldn't be alone, nor would I be for many years to come.

As the years passed, our bond grew far beyond anything I had ever thought imaginable. In a way, we were more like sisters rather than parent and child. I had taught her everything I knew. Hunting and fighting were just a tiny taste of everything she had learned, though flying like most dragons were her favorite.

She excelled in magic which caught me by surprise. With her love of flying and easy maneuverability, I was sure her ability would be in flight. Instead, it was in magic, amplifying the strength of her magic to nearly twice its usual power. She never ceased to amaze me.

As time passed, her sense of humor developed, and often she dragged me into trouble. Tennit was her first victim amongst the secret joy of most of the clan to see him finally get his due. With a bit of help- from me-, Yeara snuck some hallucinogenic herbs in his food, which she had caught for him as a favor. Though when she retold the story, it was more like the favor she wanted was not getting in trouble afterward, which, much to my joy, she didn't, or perhaps it was the fact he didn't remember anything.

For two days afterward, he kept falling off cliffs, claiming dead dragons were walking amongst us, crying for our attention. Other times he would be awake one second then dead asleep the next. All of this was told from dragons who visited him occasionally, mainly his children and me since I had to have regular visits with at least one of the elders to talk about Yeara.

But to be honest, as annoying as he is, it wasn't like he didn't deserve it. It was funny to finally see someone pull something on the elders. They are usually one step ahead of everyone else, their wisdom far superior to most.

The elders and I never saw what came next.

Today was Yeara's first mission to take down someone who used dark magic. Although I had complete confidence in her strength and abilities, as her mother, I couldn't help but worry, and I should have gone with her, but I didn't. Perhaps I could have stopped what was about to come.

When she came back, she acted different, cold, distant. A nagging feeling in the back of my mind appeared, telling me something was wrong but I ignored it. She barely talked to me at all. Whatever had happened when she was out greatly affected her. I nearly had a healer check up on her when suddenly she was her usual self, apologizing profusely for her actions. However, I should have had her checked up anyway, but against my better judgment, I decided not to.

In the morning, we flew together and visited Zyrapha. Her wings were still colorful as always when we arrived.

"Well, look who stopped by. Tell me any other mischievous activities I should be aware of?" Zyrapha directed her attention to Yeara, who promptly shook her head. Last week, Yeara had tricked Pira into roasting some herbs that exploded in smoke, causing her to smell like burnt meat for days afterward.

"Good, how have you two been? I hear your first mission was successful."

A change swept over Yeara like a wind across a valley, her eyes swiftly changing colors from ashen grey back to their mix of red and black, the nagging in my head nearly had me hunched over from the severity.

Zyrapha took notice too, concern written in the way her brows crinkled and her eyes narrowed.

But before I could ask what it was about, she turned away, beckoning for us to follow.

As we journeyed deeper in her den, I couldn't help but wonder if the change in her eyes had any correlation to the change in personality when she had come back. But I couldn't determine any ties between the two, so I tossed it aside.

Ahead of us, Zyrapha turned, her body being swallowed by long shadows cast by the torches. Around the corner, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern that had a large hole in the ceiling, letting light shine down in rays that illuminated a stone statue of a dragon. Her wings outstretched in an embrace, her horns protruding from her skull in arches, the fine detail seeming to capture every scale and curve of its body.

"Do either of you know who this is?" Zyrapha asked.

I looked at Yeara, but her attention was held by the statue. Malice seemed to radiate from every scale in her body before dissipating like it had never been there. Again that nagging feeling grew, becoming almost unbearable.

I questioned if it had even happened before I pulled my attention back to Zyrapha, who quickly took notice of her change but seemed to dismiss it.

"I thought not, this here is the first dragon, the dragon who took on the dark magic and eradicated its power all over the world, her name was Britosa." she said, stretching her wing out as if gesturing to the statue. "And though dragons live for hundreds of years, her time came a very long time ago, long before any of us were born." she moved closer to the statue, and as she did, it began to glow. "Thanks to her, we live the lives we do now, though it isn't perfect." she turned to face us, the statue's light blanketing her scales.

"Britosa handed down her light to her descendants and through them the rest of the dragon species. In us, we all have the power to fight dark magic, but sometimes... the brightest light can hold the deepest darkness," she said, looking directly at Yeara.

"Is there something here I'm missing?"

That was all she said before ushering us out, but before I took flight, her voice called me back inside.

"yeara, I'll be right out. Wait for me."

she nodded, hovering in the air.

Inside, Zyrapha looked concerned. Her brows creased and eyes dark like storm clouds.

"Keep an eye on Yeara-

"I usually do." I cut in, stepping closer to her, my claws leaving light indents in the stone.

"I'm serious, showing Britosa's statue to Yeara was a test, one she failed. I'm afraid for her wellbeing."

"I Will," I responded, a hint of irritation lacing my voice before leaving and taking flight besides Yeara.

On our way home, Yeara spoke up, yelling to be heard over the roaring winds.

"I have somewhere I need to be. I'll see you later." and before I could protest, she dove to the ground and took off hovering mere feet above the dirt, her speed nearly double my own. A sigh escaped my lips.

"What was I gonna do with her?"

It was late in the night when she arrived home. She looked tired, her head drooping low to the ground, her wings limp at her sides, her body seeming to lack the life I had become accustomed to seeing in her.

"And where have you been?" I said, standing up and walking to her side.

"Why do you care?" she retorted.

"I care because your my daughter and-

"I am not your daughter! And you will never be my mother!" she roared before she turned and bolted outside, her scales turning to an ashier shade.

I stood there frozen, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

"Where was this coming from? We used to get along so well, and now we are like fire and water."

That was it. I headed to the elders, waking them and dragging some of them by their tails when they refused to come with me.

We were back where I first met Yeara, the three spires of carved stone on either side of us.

"What has you barging into our dens and dragging us out here so late at night!" Airswyth spat, his tail lashing like a whip behind him, nearly hitting Pira in the process.

"I need to know what you sent Yeara to do several nights ago." my paws stepping forward threateningly, my tail raised slightly behind me. My voice was stern, unyielding.

"I will have my answers tonight, even if I have to kill them to do it."

"We sent her to kill someone who was practicing dark magic," Pira responded, her eyes flashing like lightning.

"LIES! If that were true, she would still be my daughter, not this cold-hearted creature who pretends to love me, either tell me what she was really doing, or else." another step closer to them, my claws aching to dig into someone.

I was hurt by Yeara's words, who wouldn't be, but I also knew that the dragon who came back that night wasn't my daughter. The nagging feeling in the back of my mind every time I'm around her finally makes sense. I just didn't want to admit it.

The elders looked at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation through eye contact alone. I couldn't ignore the creepy feeling I got when they all turned back to me at the same time.

"We sent her to kill the same creature who killed her parents," Pira said, her eyes flashing like lightning in anger. I didn't know whether it was fury at being forced to admit what they did or rage at herself I didn't know.

"FOOLS!" My voice cut through the clearing like a knife. "You know better than to send a dragon out on revenge! It opens our minds to dark magic, making us susceptible to its madness." I felt the pull to launch at them, tearing each of them to shreds for putting my daughter in needless danger. I just hoped she hadn't become corrupt by its lies.

"Where is she?"

Zyrapha strode forward, her claws gouging into the stone. "Most likely the Forest of Shadows."

I took off, the sound of my wings cutting off whatever else Zyrapha was about to say.

The elders didn't follow, and I didn't care. They put my dear Yeara in danger all to settle some stupid revenge. I couldn't forgive them.

It was early morning when I arrived at The Forest of Shadows, the sun casting long pieces of shade on the ground, like the day I first met Yeara, the leaves were starting to turn, hints of brighter colors starting on the very edges.

My wings burned from exhaustion. I'd never flown that fast for so long before, But Yeara was definitely here. Her scent was everywhere like she'd been here multiple times. Perhaps this is where she went last night when she abruptly left.

When I spotted her, I knew something wasn't right, the scent of rotten flesh heavy in the air, a sure sign of dark magic. My gut roared at me, training taking effect. I gauged the area, looking for any traps, or movement but saw nothing except for the prone form of Yeara.

I crawled my way to her, meanwhile staying alert, my muscles tensed and ready to move at a moment's notice.

I placed my paw on Yeara's side, gently prodding her awake. "Yeara, are you okay, darling?"

"Mom?"

Tears filled my eyes.

"Are you okay? Come on, darling, we gotta go home." I grabbed one of her paws and gently pulled.

Her eyes glazed over and turned pitch black, her scales turning an ashy color in the time it took blink. "And why would I do that?" came a voice that wasn't Yeara's. It was deeper, filled with malice.

"Yeara?" I withdrew my paw and took my battle stance, widening my feet for balance, and crouched.

"I wonder how many pathetic creatures I can lure here with this body. So far, it's been three."

Yeara moved, her body revealing the bones of two dragons behind her, flies buzzing around and maggots squirming amongst the rotten flesh. The smell hit me like a blast of hot air, singing my nose and burning my lungs.

"Let her go!" I roared.

"Never, after all, this poor creature was foolish enough to reveal her name to me. After that, I just couldn't help myself. After all, NAMES HAVE POWER!" it roared before lunging for me, a paw swinging down towards my head. I twisted and deflected it with my tail, stopping a hair's breadth away from Yeara's head. I can't hurt her. I just can't.

The day I took her home rushed up. She was so small in my paw, so shy too, I remembered it like it happened yesterday. Her small form sleeping soundly beside mine, my wing draped over her in warmth. That night I swore to protect her with my life, but it seems I broke that promise.

The thing controlling her took my moment of distraction and leaped, her weight toppling me to the ground, her claws slicing open my belly. My roar echoed through the dark forest, the shadows seeming to ripple with the intensity.

I whipped my tail, whacking her side and sending her toppling to the ground, but it didn't faze her at all, most likely because I slowed down at the last second.

"you dragons are all the same, weak, putrid, caring for others. Tell me how it feels to know you are about to be killed by the very one you love." it cackled, using Yeara's voice.

Disgust filled me, "how dare you use her voice, how dare you use her body, and how dare you try to take her from me, she is my daughter, and you can never have her!" my voice cut through the forest, scattering animals in every direction. I dashed forward, tackling her to the ground.

"Release her this instant!"

"Never, as long as I am here, you cannot kill me."

He was right. I couldn't do it. There was no way I could take the life of my daughter.

Yeara, no the creature controlling her smirked, and with strength that belied her size, she surged up like a wave throwing me off her.

The smell of rotten flesh grew more robust. Looking up, dark thin, smoke-like tendrils surrounded Yeara. Dark magic.

"Get out of my daughter's body, you disgusting wretch!" I tackled her again, but she learned from earlier and used my momentum to throw me off.

I landed hard on the grass, the wind knocked from my lungs on impact, my surroundings blurring into a single entity of green. A weight settled on my chest, and when my vision cleared, Yeara looked down at me with a devious smirk, blood dripping from her teeth in thick viscous streams and flowing down my scales to soak in the dirt.

"Any last words?" it said as it held a single claw to my throat.

"Yeara, I know you're in there. Wake up." I pleaded.

"How sweet, you think you can still win. just like the two before, pleading for her to come back," it hissed between clenched teeth. " I made her watch as I tore the life from their bodies, just as I'm about to do to you."

I grabbed her head with my paws.

"I love you."

Her eyes cleared up, the claw held to my throat retreated.

"Mom? Please, I don't know how long I can hold it off. I've already killed two others. Please run!"

She retreated further, her weight leaving my body and letting me stand.

"I will not leave you, you are my daughter, and I swore to protect you. I intend to keep that promise."

I stepped forward, wrapping her in my wings like I'd always done.

Cold drops of water fell on my paws, running down the scales before hitting the ground.

"It's ok. I am here."

Yeara sniffled before standing back. Looking me in the eyes with determination, she said the words that would forever haunt me.

"Mom, please kill me."

At first, I thought I misheard her, but she repeated it.

"Mom, I can't live knowing I've killed two dragons with my own hands, most of all my friends. Besides, I don't know any other way to be free."

Time seemed to freeze. I didn't feel the breeze caress my scales or hear it shake the trees.

A single tear traced a line down her cheek before she collapsed, her body tensing in pain, a roar escaping her throat.

"Mother, please, it's the only way!" she said in between gasps for air.

"No, there has to be another way." but even with all my knowledge of magic, I came up with nothing.

Another roar escaped her throat, her body thrashing in pain.

I moved to her, wrapping her in my wings and arms, her sharp erratic movements shaking us.

"Mom, thank you... for taking me in. It has been... the best years of my life," she said in between convulsions. "I only wish... I could have spent more time with you and my friends."

"Why are you talking like you're about to die?" I nuzzled her, hugging her as close as possible.

"When I am gone, promise me, you will live freely."

Memories came rushing back.

The winds were fierce and warm, the sun just peeking over the horizon, a terrific day for learning how to fly. That morning Yeara had woken me up earlier than usual. I had promised her a few days ago I'd teach her how to fly, so here we were just outside the den, the winds roaring around us.. She watched me as I launched into the air and flapped my wings for a moment before she jumped in the air, her haunches launching her while her wings lifted her higher and higher.

"Freedom!" she roared.

"Mom, it's time."

I still had her wrapped in my wings, her body shaking with convulsions, a single paw wrapped around the back of her head.

A single claw slowly moved to her throat, shaking violently, or maybe it was the heaving breaths in between sobs.

"I love you, Yeara."

"You to Mother."

Blood spurted from her throat as I drew my claw across her throat. Tears blurred my vision into spurts of crimson as the life bled out of Yeara, and her eyes never swayed from mine.

Finally, her last breath escaped her lungs, her body went limp, her eyes glazed over.

I watched as her last tear traced its way down her scaled cheek before falling into my outstretched paw.

"My darling, I must applaud you, the other two dragons couldn't do it, but you did. Tell me how it felt?"

A large black shadow slowly coalesced into a figure with ashen-covered feathers, a black beak, and white eyes. A griffon.

"Aren't you going to say anything, or must I do all the talking?"

I sat there stalk still, a storm of emotions vying for control, my daughter's body already starting to cool beneath my too warm paws.

"Fine, be that w-

My tail slammed into his side, sending him flying through the air before skidding in the dirt.

Before he got up, I slammed my forepaw into his head, keeping him pinned while my other paw pierced his belly and stayed, feeling the warmth of his draining blood.

A screech escaped his beak before he began begging for mercy.

"Please, let me go. I'll do anything!"

I had one question before I killed this wretch. My voice took on the same steely hardness from which this THING spoke through my daughter.

"How did you possess my daughter?" My voice was stern like steel and cold like ice.

"Her name! I tricked her into giving her name! Through that and a little bit of magic, I to-.

A screech cut off the rest of his words.

My claws wiggled inside his belly, widening the wound and letting a spurt of blood soak my scales.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I promise, let me go. I gave you information."

I tore my claws out from his belly before plunging them back in, his screech bringing joy to my broken heart.

"You seriously thought I would let you go? I never struck a deal with you."

I let go of his head only to tear my claws into his back, severing his spine and rendering him unable to move. Screech after screech escaped his beak, tears falling down his feathered face.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please let me go. I never should have possessed her. I never should have forced you to kill her."

I let go of him, his motionless form bleeding out of the grass.

"Thank you, thank you!" he screeched, his feathers being moved by the wind.

"I never said i was gonna let you go, no, not until I inflict the same amount of pain you forced on Yeara!"

I grabbed onto his hind leg with my jaws and flung him against a tree back first, shattering his spine into bone dust. The wood dented where his body made impact.

Magic surged through my veins, giving me strength and speed beyond my usual capabilities, my own ability, one which would allow me to inflict the most amount of pain on this useless excuse of a griffon.

My claws tore into his stomach and out his back, digging slightly into the bark behind him.

Before he could let out another one of his detestable screams, I pierced his chest aiming straight for his lungs.

I now had about a minute before his lungs filled with blood and killed him to induce the most pain. Guess I better get started.

I tore his hind legs apart with my jaws, spraying my chest and legs with fresh warm blood that streamed down my bright red scales in wide rivers.

Finally, as rage and grief consumed me, I ripped him in half, organs and intestines leaking out, splattering onto the grass and plants. Sending a fresh wave of his scarlet running down my scales. The griffon's beak parted in a silent screech.

My chest heaved for air. Nearly out of mana, I released my magic, strength draining from my body like a receding wave.

"Live freely." came Yeara's voice. And I intended to do just that.

Taking flight, I headed away from the clan. I could never trust the elders again. I didn't want to see any dragon I had come to know, too afraid they'd remind me of Yeara, so like a coward, I ran, not knowing that my choice placed chains around my heart rattling with every beat.

The sound of claws drew me from my reverie. Draconus strode forth from the dark of the tunnel leading outside, a boar clutched in his jaws, leaking blood onto the stone, the pitter-patter of blood droplets impacting the ground in high sounds.

He set the boar lightly onto the ground, his eyes looking me over as if it was the last time he'd ever see me.

Many years after Yeara died, I met Draconus and many more after that before I trusted him. Still more came before we became mates. Though I've been thrilled with him, it would have been perfect if Yeara were here.

"I know that look, my dear. What's wrong?" he asked as he strode forward, pushing the boar to the side and wrapping me in solid wings.

His warmth as it enveloped me was like Yeara's before she died... no, before I killed her.

I could not stop the onslaught of tears as they flowed from my eyes. And still, he never left me. He never looked disgusted. If anything, he wrapped his wings even tighter around me.

Maybe that was why I hated my son. I was afraid he could never live up to Yeara, or perhaps I was scared loving him would make me forget about Yeara, so I chose to hate him instead. It's easier that way.

I keep telling myself that, but it never gets easier. The doubt never goes away the- "what ifs" of things that could be but never were. Could they have been better?

I was too afraid to find out, so I took the easy way out and decided not to care, running, it's what I've been doing since she died, always taking the easy way out even though it may not always lead to the best ending.

"And still Draconus stays with me, sacrificed everything to live with me, so, were we in the right to torture and kill Ymerc? Was it right to have decided to not care at all?"

"What's on your mind?" His sweet bass-like voice caressed my ears, a comfort for me.

"were we right?" I got up and tore away from his embrace.

He followed me, wrapping a wing around my back and rubbing his head undermine. "Right about what?"

"Ymerc, were we right to kill him? Were we right to torture him? I mean, I know you have always wanted a hatchling of your own, and when we got one, you went along with me. why?"

He took a long moment before he responded.

"Love is sacrifice, my dear. I sacrificed having a child for loving you. You mean the world to me, more than a hatchling could ever mean. Besides..."

I turned my snout to look at him, hesitance written in his eyes as they darkened in thought.

"Besides what?"

"Why are you having second thoughts? We decided this was the path we would take just over eight years ago, for better or worse."

"Yeara." was all I said, my snout dipping down in grief. After all these years, all it took was a scent or image to remind me of her and with it the sorrow, the pain of losing her, killing my own daughter myself.

"You're wondering if Ymerc could have been another Yeara if things could have been better like they were with yeara?" My silence answered his question. He knew me well to get it spot on, but it wasn't the first time he guessed correctly. Somehow he always seemed to know my thoughts, sometimes better than I knew them myself.

"I can't say for certain if things could have been as they were with Yeara, but Ymerc could never have replaced her, so if your decision was based solely on that, I would say it was a poor choice. Regardless, what's done is done, we made our choice, and there is no going back. Let's stop focusing on "what ifs'' and focus more on the here and now. Besides, there's a fresh boar over there for you to enjoy. "I looked at the boar, my appetite nonexistent. There was no way I could eat today, even though my stomach seemed to be eating itself in hunger. I turned my back to it, and Draconus let out a loud sigh.

"Very well, when you're hungry, there is a boar to eat. Meanwhile, I have some scouting to do. I'll be back by nightfall."

Draconus took time every day scouting for unwanteds, making sure no dragons could find us. If they did, they would indeed smell the scent of dark magic on us, thick and dense like a rotting corpse.

I nearly wanted to scream for him to stay when his wing left my back. I listened as the clicking of claws on stone echoed further and further away until...silence.

Once again alone, my thoughts consumed me, swirling around me in hoards as if they knew I was once again alone.

Yeah, I had doubts about Ymerc, perhaps regrets too, just like how I regretted killing Yeara. I was no stranger to regret. That was undoubtedly true.

But the doubt about my son just kept gnawing at me. Was there a part of me that actually loved him no matter how hard I tried not to? Or was it something different? It could have been the memory of Yeara surging up after all these years of pushing it down. I really wasn't sure. Either way, I was starting to regret having Draconus kill Ymerc. After all, he wanted a hatchling of his own, I didn't, so it should have been me. Still, I was too afraid, afraid of being seen by someone I knew, afraid of being possessed by someone if they knew my name. Even after all the books I had accumulated on dark magic, none explained how possession works or anything on possession. It's like it just happened one day.

Maybe I'll never know how it worked. If so, I would never feel safe. I would never be able to live free as Yeara wanted.

My cheeks grew wet with fresh tears. "Yeara, I'm so sorry. I should have tried harder. I should have protected you more. Maybe then you would still be alive.

Draconus soared high above the clouds, the sound of flapping wings emanating from his shadowed form.

He doubted that Ymerc was dead, if he was, his scent should be all over him, but no matter how many times he sniffed the air, he smelled nothing but his own scent and those of the animals around him.

The sun was nearly set, and thus it was almost time to head back, but he hesitated, knowing Xolta needed some more time alone to gather her thoughts.

Ever since Ymerc ran away she hasn't been the same, doubt seeming to way her down, drowning her in waves, but he couldn't do anything except be there for her, no matter how much it hurt him to see her like this.

He had gotten used to the life he had, but lately it felt like Xolta had become distant, she hardly ate anything, barely left the den anymore, she wasn't living, her fears were controlling her, and it made Draconus sick to his stomach to see his mate like this.

With a twist of his tail, he headed home.

His mate was nowhere to be seen when he arrived, at first he figured she was deeper in the den, but when he looked she wasn't there, in fact she wasn't anywhere in the den, her scent leading out into the forest beyond, being careful to use the trees as cover from any prying eyes.

With concern etched in his heart, he followed the trail.