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The blaze drum is a small, sac-like organ in the middle of a dragon's chest. It converts mana directly into fire while coating the throat in a saliva layer to prevent burns. This sac is utilized in all types of fire magic, and it is capable of great power. But one must be careful not to overuse the blaze drum. It can take days, if not weeks, for the organ to work again.

--Dragon Proverb

Chapter Thirteen

Coolness washed over my scales as the morning sun stretched through the window, and despite

the promise of a new day, my heart ached from the weight of yesterday.

Ymithia and Cyndrithil were still sound asleep, but I spent the night tossing and turning, trying not to wake them, turbulent thoughts making it impossible to sleep.

I needed air. Space.

Quietly, I crept out of the room that had become my home.

Although my other injuries had since healed, I still couldn't fly, rendering me unable to leave the mountain; scars now traced my body like clouds in the sky--always visible. Always a reminder.

Yesterday, a dark weight descended on the clan. Everyone seemed so silent, as if saying anything could tear the very fabric of reality. Later, it was Cyndrithil who finally told me the cause of this. Ymithia never spoke a word, her gaze lost in another time.

"Furest perished due to dark magic during the night."

His words struck a blow to my heart, leaving emptiness behind. I remembered everything Furest had done for me: dragging Ymithia and Cyndrithil away from the elders, so they never had to find out the truth; healing my wing, so eventually I would be able to fly, and so much more. I owed her much, and now I would never be able to repay my debt.

A part of me had been lost forever.

Perhaps it wasn't just about my debt. Maybe after everything Furest had done for me, I had started to trust her, like her even, which I found surprising. I was only beginning to trust Ymithia; Cyndrithil was more challenging--his scales blue reminiscent of Draconus.

Then there was my wing. Today Ymithia was going to take off my bandages and see if my wing was healing correctly. If not, I will never be able to fly again.

"You will be able to fly," Furest's words echoed.

I believed her, yet my heart clenched whenever I thought of losing my flight. It had been so long, too. I yearned to feel the wind flow across my scales, hear the beating of my wings, the fear of losing that was crippling.

"Arlya, I miss you."

My closest friend--my only friend died to the same flesh and blood that killed me once so long ago.

Still, I wondered how I was revived. Learning of Furest's death somehow made me realize its permanence. Those who are lost will never come back, yet, I did. How?

If I found out, maybe I could bring Furest back. Even if it was only long enough to thank her for everything, that would suffice.

Claws clicking on stone brought me out of my thoughts. Behind me, Cyndrithil appeared from out of the mountain.

Sitting beside me, he took me in his wing. While I did like the warmth it provided, it felt wrong to have another dragon the same color as Draconus give me warmth. I hope all it took was time.

I doubted that.

There were so many dragons here I didn't like. The elders were at the top of that list, and right behind them: Xithris. I recently found out Xithris was Cyndrithil's brother, or as close one could be without being related by blood. I was still trying to wrap my head around that. I had never heard of such before arriving here--just another element to add to the endless oddities of this clan.

I feel like I don't belong here. Everyone has experience in familial matters, yet my own family was encompassed by torture and death. I was relieved when Cyndrithil remained silent. I didn't need comforting words right now. In fact, I wasn't sure what I needed. Having someone beside me sure felt reassuring, even if it was Cyndrithil.

The rhythm of another pair of claws joined us on the mountainside. Ymithia appeared from the dark recesses, freshly roused from sleep. I cursed myself and my parents as I realized I was growing accustomed to looking with my eyes, not by assessing their scent. Now I had gotten so used to not being able to use it, I barely gave it a second thought.

"Are you nervous?" she asked.

I didn't have to ask what she was referring to. The fear was crippling. It would be better to say I would rather die than lose my flight. That still wasn't accurate enough.

Even if my healing was progressing properly, it would still be several months before I could fly. Or so I was told.

"Do you want me to unbandage your wing out here?"

My silence was enough for her.

Gently she grabbed my bandaged wing and started to unroll the gauze. I couldn't bear to watch, covering my eyes with my paws. I felt the remains leave my wing before a gasp from Ymithia nearly stopped my heart.

"Is it that bad?" I asked. Already knowing the answer, after all, only one reason would cause her to gasp like that. I lost my flight.

"Ymerc, except for a large scar running the length of your humerus, your wing is fully healed."

I couldn't believe my ears.

Lowering my paws, I realized she was right. Except for a large scar running across my wing base, it was in excellent shape. Perhaps even better, I had the same mobility I did back in the harpy forest.

I flapped my wings, the sound hitting my ears, a balm on my worried heart. My fear vanished, replaced with utmost joy that mended a fragment of my broken soul left shattered by Draconus.

I ignored Ymithia's pleas for restraint as I leaped into the sky once again. The flapping of wings, a relief on my crippled ears, the feeling of wind racing across my scales something I was sure I would never be able to feel again, I felt weightless once again, no longer forced to tread the ground, no longer feeling hard dirt beneath my paws.

It had been a long while since I tested my speed like I had during the harpy race. I wondered just how fast I could go. During the race, I recalled the fire in my wings and felt the same heat fill my chest.

A blur of sapphire trailed me, surging upward from the ground below. Draconus--he spread his wings and my heart stopped at the sight. Fear, though, kept me breathing. I unleashed the flames from deep within my chest, striking him square in the face.

He reared backward, and in the break between my fire, I saw Cyndrithil, not Draconus. I cut my flames. He blinked for a moment before startled eyes settled on me. Behind us, Ymithia hovered in the air, her jaw agape.

"I am so sorry!" I cried out. "I thought you were Draconus."

Cyndrithil froze, working his jaw as if processing what transpired. Was what I did really that bad?

Once I had seen Draconus breathe fire at a passing dragon, it seemed to be some kind of threat or attack. Did I just sentence myself to death?

"We should go back. You don't want to injure your wing again, do?" Ymithia asked from behind.

I headed back to the mountain I had called home without a word.

We landed, my paws touching stone again, and instantly I yearned for the sky once more.

"Ymerc, how old are you exactly?" Cyndrithil asked.

"We were told you were somewhere around the age of ten. Is that correct?" Ymithia spoke up.

Counting the cycle of the seasons, I was eight years old. Why did it matter? Did they suddenly not want me after I breathed fire in Cyndrithil's face?

"I am eight years old."

"That's impossible," Ymithia blurted. Cyndrithil's jaw went slack.

"What's impossible?"

Ymithia grabbed my chin, inspecting my throat scales as if something was wrong with them other than the scars.

"Get off me" I pushed her paws away. The grip on my throat reminded me far too much of Draconus.

"Cyndrithil, grab Xithris. He will wanna know about this."

"Hold it!" I bellowed before Cyndrithil could take off.

"What is so important about me being able to breathe fire? I am a dragon. It's something we do."

Ymithia exchanged a questioning look with Cyndrithil before she turned to me.

"Ymerc, dragons your age cannot breathe fire. It is impossible."

"Well, clearly, it's not seeing as how I just did it. I did it the same night Draconus tried to kill me, and even before that!"

"No, you don't get it. You shouldn't be able to breathe fire for another thirty years."

What? What is she talking about? I have been able to breathe fire for a while now. I don't see the problem with it.

"It seems further explanation is needed," Cyndrithil spoke. "Deep in your chest, there is a... pouch of sorts. It converts mana into fire while also coating our mouth and throats with a special type of saliva that keeps us from burning ourselves. Dragons don't develop it until they are around the age of forty."

***

"Cyndrithil, I still don't understand why you dragged me all the way here. Did something happen with the hatchling?" Xithris asked as he strode into the room with Cyndrithil leading the way.

After Cyndrithil's revelation earlier, I was shocked, to say the least. How I could breathe fire when, according to Cyndrithil, it should be impossible.

Ymithia escorted me back to the room while Cyndrithil flew off to find Xithris. I tried to keep him from going. He wasn't a kind dragon by my standards.

"Ymerc, would you please breathe fire for us?" Ymithia asked while stepping back.

"He can't breathe fire. He is still a hatchling. Are you two crazy?" Xithris asked.

I was so excited to prove him wrong.

I felt the fire burst to life in my chest before expelling it out and hitting Xithris right in the face. The look on his face was more than worth it. Hopefully, I will get the chance to do it again someday.

"Th-that's impossible! He is far from that age." He began checking me over the same way Ymithia did. This time, I couldn't force his paws away like I did Ymithia's. He was practically forcing me to the ground.

Stupid dragon.

"Stop!"

He didn't stop. In fact, it didn't even seem to register in that stupid thick skull of his.

"I told you to stop!"

He didn't seem to hear a word I said, instead almost forcing me down on my back to inspect my chest as if something would appear there he hadn't seen before

"You asked for it!" I hissed.

My chest lit up; Xithris realized it too late. Before he could back away, the fire surging up my throat... escaped as billowed smoke out of my maw--no fire, just smoke.

"It seems like your blaze drum is depleted," Xithris observed, poking me in the chest with his sharp claws.

"I have more than fire!" I leaped on his arm, sinking my claws in him before jumping onto his back. Xithris's head snapped around when I bit the back of his neck. The taste of blood filled my jaws and spilled over my lips, dribbling down his scales, salty but sweet like the deer Ymithia brought last night.

"Ymerc, get off him!" Ymithia yelled before a large paw swatted me off Xithris.

The impact swiped the air from my lungs for a second before my vision cleared, and air rushed into my chest.

Looking up, Xithris had blood sliding along his neck, down his chest, and pattering on the ground.

Cyndrithil was closest. He must have been the one who hit me off, Xithris. He stared at me, the same fear I felt every time I laid eyes on Draconus, that same fear reflected in Ymithia.

I realized my mistake: I shouldn't have attacked him.

"He wouldn't stop! I told him to stop, and he wouldn't listen!" I tried to explain.

But just like Xithris, it didn't seem like Cyndrithil or Ymithia were listening either They stood with eyes dilated. For once, I thought I had a family to call home. I was wrong. There would never be a place for me in this world.

I couldn't bear it anymore--their looks of fear. I ran out, and they didn't call after me. They didn't run toward me. All that met my ears was the clicking of my paws on stone and my own breathing, harsh and hurried as my heartbeat in my chest ferociously.

I took to the sky once outside, forcing what little remained of my fire into my wings, putting as much distance between me and everyone else as possible. I didn't intend to stop. I refused to see them again. I didn't want their pity, now that I scared my only home away, there was nowhere left for me.

So, I kept flying and didn't stop.

***

It wasn't until Ymerc's footsteps faded away into silence that the heavy atmosphere faded. Ymithia checked up on Xithris, rubbing the ointment she used on Ymerc's wing onto his neck. Cyndrithil was still frozen, as if everything that just happened was just a dream. Ymithia could tell just by a glimpse he was having a hard time processing everything; so was she.

Ymerc attacking Xithris for no reason at that. Perhaps he is possessed and always has been, a way to infiltrate the clan and sow distrust between us. It's happened before. An entire clan far to the south fell in a single night. that was hundreds of years ago, and outsiders still tell tales of that bloody night.

If that's the case, he couldn't be left alone, but something seemed off about that whole thing. If he was possessed by dark magic and intended to bring down the clan, why show himself now? Why not wait until he has gotten far stronger? The wound he gave Xithris was barely a flesh wound. His jaws were barely strong enough to get through the layer of scales.

"Are you okay, Xithris?"

Xithris seemed to be in shock, just like Cyndrithil. Perhaps taking in Ymerc had been a mistake. Maybe all those doubts she had been there for a reason--her subconscious telling her not to take in the hatchling.

"That's beside the point. Where is Ymerc? I saw him leave. It would seem I owe him an apology."

"You owe him nothing!" Cyndrithil barked. "You did nothing wrong. He attacked you for no reason. We were wrong to take him in."

Ymithia nodded her head in agreement before going to stand beside her mate.

"Are you both deaf? He asked me to stop twice, and I didn't listen. I deserve the bite and more. I should have listened."

Ymithia disagreed. If Ymerc had told Xithris to stop, she would have heard it.

"We would have heard him if he did," Cyndrithil said before Ymithia had a chance.

"Let him go. No one here owes--"

"Are you daft? Get a grip, both of you. While I find Ymerc, I think it would be wise to think about your own actions. It wasn't long ago you swore to protect him as your own. If this is as far as your love goes, then you were never meant to be parents!" he snapped. "This right here isn't unconditional love. This is conditional. If you ever sired hatchlings of your own, I would pity them."

His tail clipped the corner on the way out, leaving both Ymithia and Cyndrithil alone to think about their actions.

***

According to the moon, it was past midnight. This was now the longest I'd ever flown. Plenty of time for thoughts to run rampant--just me and the wind. And from now, it would only be me and the wind. No matter how badly I wanted someone, I didn't need anyone else.

Their fear-filled look passed in front of my eyes. Shortly after I left, I realized Ymithia was backing away from me like I was some monster, and I suppose I was. It wasn't like Xithris didn't deserve it. I did ask twice. It's his own fault, and I felt no guilt. Perhaps if I hadn't attacked Xithris, I would still have parents. If there was anything I regretted about this whole thing, it was losing the only parents I had come to trust, and again that trust shattered into a million broken pieces inside my heart. I vowed to never trust another creature again. It wasn't worth the heartache.

A while ago, I had left the mountains behind; hopefully, that meant I left the dragons and their land behind. That begs the next question, where do I go now? Could I fly forever? Or at least until I find a place of my own, hopefully, weeks if not months away from Ymithia and Cyndrithil, further if possible from Xithris.

I also needed food, I had put it off for the last couple of hours, but now all I could think about was food. Before Draconus had tried to kill me along with his mate, I had seen him hunting once or twice before. If I copied him, could I do it?

Rather than think about it, I put it to the test.

First, I sniffed the winds, hoping to find some sort of trace of large birds or the scent of deer carried by the wind. When that failed, I descended to the ground, where I investigated further. It wasn't until I nearly gave up that I discovered the familiar scent of a stag. I followed the trail around a few trees before seeing it: a large, injured stag crouched in the dirt. I snuck closer, my tail frozen behind me, my legs bent low to the ground. The earthy wafting of clay and grass intensified with each step.

I was so focused I didn't notice the twig until it was too late. The snap seemed to echo through the trees--an impossible sound to miss. The stag raised its head and surveyed its surroundings. It was now or never. I was faster than ever since I had been healed.

I broke through the brush, rushing towards the stage. It was on its hooves in seconds before falling back down. One of its legs was injured, blood matting the fur. Most likely, something else had tried to kill it before me.

I struck, pinning it down and biting its throat, the taste of blood sweet like cake on my tongue. I chewed through its carotid, blood gushing into my mouth warm and syrupy before rushing down my throat.

It wasn't long before it was dead, and I dug in. The welcome sound of tearing flesh resounding outward.

I relished in my success. While it was already injured, the kill was mine.

I took my fill and left it for the scavengers. I wanted to, no, needed to put as much distance between me and the other dragons as possible.

As I was eating, clouds had closed in, not the white fluffy kind. A storm was coming, and Arlya said it was unsafe to fly during them. I would heed her advice.

First, I needed shelter.

I knew the mountain range I had left a while ago was bound to have an abandoned den, but I refused to go back. I would have to move forward and hope I got lucky.

***

The rain was fierce, and the wind was savage, tossing me to and fro between invisible hands. I fought to stay aloft, all of my effort put into trying to keep from being shredded by the constant shifts. Thunder boomed in uneven intervals, lightning providing a brief guide through the night.

My wings burned with exhaustion, muscles screaming in remembrance of the day I learned to fly. I needed to land before I was torn to shreds or even electrocuted.

Before I was struck, I dove to the ground, flaring my wings shortly before making contact. My knees jolted with the impact, a brief flare of pain shooting up my spine.

I should have slowed down sooner.

Below the canopy of leaves, the rain became a soft shower. Compared to the roaring hurricane-like winds from above, these winds were much friendlier.

I hadn't seen anything that could serve as a shelter, at least until the storm passed. I had no intention of staying here for any length of time if I could help it. At this point, I would take anything if it meant I could sleep and warm up.

The rain chilled beneath my scales. Hopefully, winter wasn't on its way. If so, I would have to hurry to find a den of my own. I wouldn't last the winter without one. They offered warmth and protection from the elements--something I would need to survive.

Rustling from behind startled me. On my own, I was far more uneasy, always on-edge.

A small fox jumped out from behind a tree, racing around me, paying me no attention at all, and raced off to its den.

Wait, it's den!

If I followed it to its den, perhaps I could make it big enough to fit inside. My own makeshift shelter.

I raced after it, following its muddy tracks for a while before I came across an enormous boulder, much larger than any dragon I had seen so far with a fox-sized hole in the ground leading below.

The hole was... tiny compared to my frame. I would never fit, and the storm was only growing stronger. With no other options, I dug, using my claws to dig through the mud that only seemed to flow back into the hole after every swipe. I tried using my fire to dry the soil, but all that came out was smoke again.

So, I returned to digging. It took forever to widen the hole big enough to fit, but eventually, I did, only to come across a slightly wider space than the opening where a very unhappy fox growled its pathetic fangs at me.

I was too tired to chase it off. Even if it attacked, it likely wouldn't do anything to my scaled body. Its claws were far too small, and its teeth would break. It seemed to realize that too. It raced around me and back outside, where it disappeared into the rain.

***

A storm was coming. That much, Xithris knew. He must find the hatchling before it arrived, otherwise the water would wash his scent away, and finding him would be impossible. Twice he had lost Ymerc's scent, and twice he had to circle back and find it. It was frustrating to admit, but he was in Ymerc's debt. If it weren't for him, he would be dead. He didn't believe it until he saw the condition Cythra was in. The following day she was completely healthy.

The memories of being possessed--as Cyndrithil put it--were still hazy, like sifting through a thick fog bank. He recalled fragments, but the entirety of the time he spent under the clutches of dark magic. The first thing he remembered was attacking Cyndrithil. The rest, he pieced together from the stories Cyndrithil told him.

After everything he put Ymerc through, he realized that the hatchling probably hated him, and he didn't blame him sometimes in his search for knowledge; he forgets kindness and empathy. Though that's what the elders liked about him, along with his ability of truth, and they don't usually like most. They keep too many secrets for his taste. Xithris wasn't a fan of secrets. They always came at another's expense.

Xithris halted and turned back, having lost the trail for the third time. How a hatchling could fly so fast and so far was beyond him. He would have to ask when he found him if he found him, albeit more gently than the last few times.

The mystery of how Ymerc could breathe fire was a concern. Never, in all history, had a dragon as young as he could breathe fire. As far as their records were concerned, the youngest dragon was thirty, still considerably younger than forty but nowhere near as young as eight years old. It's physically impossible. Or, at least it should be.

Xithris felt a drop of cold rain hit his snout and slide slowly along with his scales before a downpour drenched him in chilly water. He only had precious moments before the trail was lost.

Just before the trail faded, he followed it toward the surface. Perhaps Ymerc landed to rest. After flying this far, even he had to be exhausted.

Touching down, Xithris immediately recognized dragon tracks. They seemed to form a circle before leading in a single direction: further from the clan.

Xithris released a gout of flames, warming himself from the freezing rain. This would likely be the last rainstorm before autumn set in. If Ymerc was to survive, he would have to find a den before winter arrived. Xithris followed the now almost-washed-away tracks to a half-eaten corpse, one that had been killed, most likely by Ymerc himself judging from the tooth marks along the throat. And, from the looks of it, the kill was clean and quick, going straight for the carotid. Well done for a hatchling.

Xithris followed the tracks slightly past the corpse before they were completely washed away, disappearing into thick, sloppy mud.

The trail was lost. There was little hope in finding him now. Still, he couldn't give up yet, not until he had exhausted all possibilities.

He took flight, aiming for the direction the paw prints had been going, using magic to protect himself from any stray lightning bolts, a layer over the scales that dispersed lightning and made it safer to fly during a storm.

***

I awoke to light filling the tunnel. The cloudless sky was a welcome opportunity to resume my search for a den of my own. After staying in that cramped hole for so long, it felt incredible to stretch my wings again.

"You aren't even going to say hello?"

I spun around to find Xithris perched on top of the boulder looking as smug as ever.

"You aren't taking me back!"

He stood, gently gliding down until he was just a few strides away.

If I took off, could I escape?

"Before you take off, I think it would be best if I apologized. Ymerc, I should have listened to you; instead, I ignored you and made the situation worse. I am very sorry."

He hung his head in an S shape, unable to meet my eyes.

"You weren't the reason I left," I explained. "You, I can handle. I may hate you, but you're nothing compared to my blood-lusting parents. I left because of Ymithia and Cyndrithil."

He nodded his head in acceptance before responding.

"I wondered about that as I was looking for you. I've known my brother for a very long time. Before you awoke from your coma, he and his mate stood before me and swore to protect you with their lives. He may be acting like an idiot now, but his heart is in the right place.

He is kidding me, right?

"'His heart in the right place?' Lies! If that were true, he wouldn't be afraid of me," I snapped. "He wouldn't have looked at me like I was some monster that just killed someone!"

What am I even doing here? I need to leave. Xithris has given me no reason to trust him.

"I'm leaving. I won't go back. I don't belong there. You and the others have made that very clear."

I turned my back on him, preparing to take flight, my wings expanding to twice the size of the length of my body, perhaps more.

"Before you go, may I say just one more thing?"

I am so sick of talking. Words have proven nothing so far. Actions have spoken far louder than words.

"What more could you possibly say? It's not like anything you could say or do could change my mind. I seem to get hurt no matter where I go."

I took off, ignoring the sounds of protest behind me. As I rested, the fire in my chest had come back. I forced it into my wings. Strength flooded them, allowing me to quickly leave the older dragon behind.

***

It was a new day. Ymithia and Cyndrithil had returned to their den. Without Ymerc, they didn't need to stay in the healer's mountain anymore. In fact, Ymithia had all but forgotten about Ymerc, and Cyndrithil seemed to be in the same case. Xithris's words as he left were nowhere to be found in their thoughts.

Ymithia couldn't help but feel like she forgot something, perhaps something she said long ago? Or a promise to be fulfilled? But when she asked Cyndrithil about it all, he told her was to "Relax, it would pass with time."

Two pairs of wingbeats sounded outside the den leading inside.

"Who dares enter our home without permission?" Cyndrithil roared while moving to a standing position, his legs widening and flexed, ready for battle. Ymithia wasn't far behind. She bared her teeth as she moved beside her mate.

In strode two dragons, the larger one appeared to be an adult; gold scales covered her hide, and her eyes exuded a ferocity that belied her looks. Her horns arched back before stretching skyward, each with a design carved into them, a signature of the Dravellian clan far to the east. The younger one stood less than a quarter the size of the gold; she looked to be around the age of ten. She was covered by white fur the color of snow, her horns just starting to grow out of her skull, nothing but little nubs at the back. A slight breeze blew in, shifting her fur slightly, revealing scales beneath, something Ymithia had never seen before.

"Mother, it's them. They are the ones I saw flying from the healing mountain. They are the ones steeped in dark magic, like a dense fog covering them, clouding their thoughts and concealing their heart," the young hatchling spoke.

Judging by her voice, female as well, Ymithia concluded.

"You may be visitors from the Dravellian clan, but that doesn't give you the right to barge into our den!" Cyndrithil bellowed, his anger getting the best of him. Ymithia was more concerned about the dark magic the hatchling had mentioned. If there was dark magic here, she would have felt it.

"Silence!" the golden dragon barked, her voice carrying an air of authority the likes of which Ymithia had never encountered. Even Cyndrithil fell silent, at a loss for words.

"To the dark magic holding these two prisoners, I know not what your plans are, nor do I care. You will leave them at once!"

Is she stupid? There is no dark magic here. She is talking to air.

Nothing but silence filled the cave.

"Very well. By the power bestowed upon me by Britosa, the first of dragon kind, I command you to leave them. Return to the abyss from whence you came and never return!"

She flapped her sun-colored wings forward, sending a gust of warm air wafting over Ymithia's scales. Light started to build up in her chest before she unleashed a golden fire that wrapped around Cyndrithil and Ymithia. The flames warm, but thanks to their scales, it would leave them unharmed. The fire enveloped them like a blanket, coating their scales in golden flame before they started to twist and writhe as if they were alive before coalescing around their hearts.

The flames dissipated, leaving steam rising from their bodies. Ymithia and Cyndrithil collapsed.

Memories Ymithia had forgotten rushing back all at once, the day she found an injured hatchling, her promise to care and protect him as if he was her own, the boundless love that filled her. And, finally, yesterday, when Ymerc attacked Xithris. She recalled everything: how Ymerc did indeed ask Xithris to stop, how Ymithia flinched and backed away from Ymerc with a fearful look in her eyes, and finally Ymerc running away. All of it flashing behind her eyes.

"Come on. Let's go, little one," a light voice spoke, accompanied by the sound of fading wingbeats.

A claw poked Ymithia in the snout. After waiting till the rush of memories faded, she opened her eyes, meeting a very worried Cyndrithil.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I am fine, Ymerc. We have to find Ymerc--our son."

***

Ymerc has some mighty wings for a dragon of his age. It seemed every beat of his wings were equal to multiple, sending him surging forward.

How does he do it?

I was forced to my top speed to keep Ymerc in sight. I wasn't giving up on him. While my brother may have been acting idiotic, I know he has a good heart sometimes it just gets drowned out by everything else.

Ahead, Ymerc descended below the tree line. I followed suit. Not only did I owe him an apology, but I owed him my life. If it wasn't for him, I would be dead right now.

Once I emerged through the forest canopy, I lost sight of him. I needed to locate his scent again.

"It seems it will take more than a flight to get rid of you."

His voice came, looking above Ymerc rested on a thick tree branch, his tail lazily swinging through the air.

***

I thought I had lost him, but when I looked back, he was still there, barely keeping up with me.

"I will hear you out on one condition," I told him.

I had no intention of going back with him. Whatever he wanted to say wouldn't change my mind.

"What is your condition?" Xithris asked.

"I will hear whatever it is you want to say. In return, once you're done, I get to leave, and you can't follow."

His tail wrapped around to his front, brushing the tip under his chin as he thought about what I said.

"Very well, and if I manage to change your mind, you have to return to the clan with me."

Damn dragon. He will probably say whatever he can to get me to return with him. Too bad for him. I had no intention of actually listening to him.

"Deal, now get on with it." I felt my tail hit the branch I was sitting on, rattling the leaves.

I was impatient. If I wanted to find my own den before winter, I needed as much time as possible, and talking with Xithris was a waste of precious daylight.

"Long ago, the elders discovered my ability to tell the truth from lies. Because of this, I worked very closely with them to protect the clan. And because of this, sometimes I don't always act appropriately. I am not liked by many. All those questions I asked dredged up horrific memories, and I am truly sorry. If I don't do it, the elders have a much more painful process of getting answers. Believe it or not, I saved you some pain."

The nerve saying, I should be thankful to him after everything he has done? I knew this was a waste of time.

"If you are saying I should be thankful, I am not," I replied. My claws scratched deep grooves in the wood.

"Perhaps that wasn't the greatest way to start," he said. "Let me start again. While you were still in a coma, the clan met to determine what to do with you. Cy--"

"Oh, thanks for that information. Good to know they all hate me," I interrupted.

"On the contrary, most of them wanted to take you in as part of the clan. If not, the moment you woke up, we would have tossed you out."

Again, he's telling me I should be thankful to the clan--that Ymithia and Cyndrithil didn't seem to care at first. They don't seem to care much now, either.

"If you're trying to get on my good side, you are failing."

"I wasn't finished," Xithris defended. "During that meeting, Ymithia and Cyndrithil swore in front of the whole clan to treat you as they would their own flesh and blood, to protect you and love you unconditiona--"

"Well, they failed. Back there, that wasn't unconditional love. One mistake and they treated me like I was a monster! If you ask me, accepting them as my parents was a mistake."

"You don't really believe that. If that were the case, you wouldn't still wish for what you had with them. I can see your heart. It's crying out." He lowered his voice. "You want them to be your parents."

I covered my chest with my wings as if that would stop him from seeing into my heart.

"Even if that's true, it was clear by their faces they don't want me anymore, so what good does it do wishing for something that will never be?"

As much as I wanted to go back, I could never face them again. In that moment, how they truly thought of me was revealed. I saw them at their core. Nothing could ever mend that relationship.

"If you come with me, I can prove to you that hope exists for a reason. Ymerc, if you come with me, there is so much for you to learn, not just as their son but as a clan member. I promise you; your parents have learned from their mistakes. Nothing you say or do can change how much they love you. Surely you felt it too, sleeping beside them, sharing meals with them, after everything they have done, how can you say they don't love you?"

"You didn't see how they looked at me," I protested.

"Oh, but I did," he answered. "I saw how Ymithia cowered from you. I saw how they feared your power. Even so, they still love you. Of course, they don't like what you did to me, but I deserved it. You and I both know that. I didn't listen to you, and because of that, I reaped the consequences of my actions. I told them as much before I left."

That doesn't mean anything, and why is he trying so hard to bring me back? From the sounds of it, I was narrowly accepted into the clan. I don't even have the right to call myself part of their family. Why waste all this effort?

"And what of Cyndrithil and Ymithia? How will they respond when they learn all these scars are from my actual parents?"

Silence filled the gap between us. I did want to go back, but the look in their eyes kept playing behind mine. If that was how they reacted to self-defense, how would they react when they learned my parents tried to kill me?

"Ymerc, I truly cannot say that is a truth that I wish I could forget. For dragons torturing and killing our young is one of the gravest sins one can make. Truly I don't know how they will respond. If you leave now, you will never know the answer to the question running around in your head for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?"

I see the point he was getting at. It would drive me insane, wondering every day if somehow, I could have still called them mom and dad.

Having made my mind up, I stood gliding down to the ground, landing right in front of Xithris.

"I will return on two conditions," I declared.

"Name them," he replied.

I wasn't expecting him to agree so quickly.

"First, you must tell them what my parents did--the ones responsible for my scars. I don't think I can do it myself.

He nodded his head in agreement, his lips lifted, revealing pearly white teeth.

"If they react negatively, I get to leave the clan; none will follow me. None will convince me to stay."

"Simple enough. Is that all? I was expecting something more outrageous."

I don't know what he was expecting, and I don't know why I entrusted Xithris with telling Ymithia and Cyndrithil about my past. I hated him, though after following me all this way, perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. In the future, I might be able to call him friend.

And while I had fully intended to leave the clan, it would seem I am going back.

"By the way, how do you fly so fast? It took everything I had to keep up with you."

I knew something Xithris didn't know? Interesting, perhaps I could brag about that?

"You don't know? I use that blaze thingy you mentioned earlier. The thing that allows dragons to breathe fire."

"It's called a blaze drum," he reminded me. "How do you use it?"

How do I explain it in a way that will make sense?

"Before I unleash the fire through my mouth, I push it into my wing muscles, granting them the strength that allows me to fly faster."

His chest started to glow before the fire moved, flowing towards his wings before disappearing entirely at the base.

"That is a strange feeling, definitely one that needs getting used to, but I can feel the strength in my wings growing. This could change how we fly for good. How did you discover this?"

If it weren't for Arlya, I wouldn't even be alive, let alone fly.

"I discovered this shortly before a harpy race a while back. I almost won too."

He seemed confused. Perhaps he doesn't know what harpies are?

"And what are these... harpy races?" Xithris asked, his wing scratching the back of his head.

I explained what the harpy races were. Xithris seemed intrigued by the idea, if not a little confused. I was sure Arlya could have explained it better than I did.

"Enough chit-chat. Shall we head home?"

I was reluctant to do so, knowing I could be hurt again, but I needed to know if I could call them family.

"Yeah, let's go." I stretched my wings, the wind flowing on either side.

I waited for Xithris to take the lead before following him.