Strength

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I usually write HFY when I cannot sleep, but have some fantasy instead.


Spitting out the blood and flesh in my mouth, I panted heavily as I watched my adversary's last twitch before they went still, bright red blood spreading from the mouth shaped gap in their neck.

I sat on my haunches as the juvenile dragon male breathed his last.

'Why did you persist? You knew you could not win, you knew you were too weak, so why?' I thought, searching my mind for a reason behind his actions and finding few that I liked.

Sighing, I felt my thousand years as I stood and hobbled to the mouth of my mountain cave, standing tall and roaring my victory to echo off of the valley below.

Not expecting an answer, I perked and growled upon hearing a distant cry in response, although this did not sound like a challenge.

Rapid wingbeats soon accompanied by a snarling, angry, pregnant young dragoness, however, she ignored me and dove into my cave, sliding to a stop and bending over her mate, her keening queries turning to anguished cries as she mourned the loss of her beloved.

I stood frozen in the entrance, feeling sick with the anguish pouring out of her broken heart.

I dared not enter my home and so turned and fled, diving off the edge and gliding down to the picturesque lake that led me to claim this as my territory, all those centuries ago.

Its beauty felt lost to me now as mournful cries echoed over the water from above and I snarled, rending ancient trees and shattering rocks so carefully placed in my many years of solitude.

Seeking perfection. Seeking fulfilment.

Now I felt hollow, disgusted and angry with myself, with the young upstart who had surprised me in my own home, hoping that would be enough to trump a thousand years of experience and bitterness.

The young upstart who now scented my cavern with the smells of fresh death.

I dug furrows in the grassy shore and roared my frustration and anger again.

Again, my roar was answered from the same unexpected source, a bugle of challenge surprising me from behind before I was tackled into the water and pushed under.

Instinct and experience won again and I did not try to go back up as they always expect, but push off of them and down, dragging them in with me and using their confusion to crawl, sodden and pissed, out of the lake.

I turn and face the dragoness as she emerges also, coughing and retching to evacuate the lungful of water she had breathed in.

I sense her intentions in her stance, readying to strike as soon as she could breathe again and pushed her down, pinning her with my weight at the same time I clenched my jaw behind her head where it met her long, unblemished neck.

She struggled, of course, but I was twice her size and knew how to leverage my opponents.

Still, she roared, snarled, growled and snapped, every possible expression of anger under the sun witnessed today by the writhing female before her frustration mounted and the inevitable crash consumed her.

She went limp in my jaws, keening and whining, helpless, weak and anguished by her loss.

Now, I released her, rows of marks from my teeth a testament to the strength of her struggles.

I lay beside her and covered her with my wing as she pressed her muzzle under my foreleg and roared her agony away.

I comforted her as best I could, rumbling vibrations reverberating through my chest as she fell into her pit of despair and a fear of being alone for her foreseeable future.

I held her and I joined her in her mourning.

We stayed out there until we both fell asleep and with the morning, there was work to be done.

I left her alone again in my cavern, hearing the wet crunching as her mate gave everything he had left for the future of his offspring, even if now that could only be a remarkable source of sustenance.

I snorted, my guilt lessening slightly as I realized they would happily be feasting upon me, had he been successful.

I waited for her sad, warbling call to fly up and into my home to join her, severing the tail and moving away to consume my share.

Nothing of the young dragon went to waste, even his bones, eventually, being consumed for their valuable nutrients.

Although the dragoness was miserable, she knew he and any male would give even their bones for the health of their young, whether they were alive or dead.

We built a carrion pile in the corner for she would not see one ounce of his body wasted and then, in the ensuing quiet, we stood, both of us on opposite sides of the immense crimson stain that marred my once pristine floor.

I looked down at the congealed mess, turning a steady brown.

I dragged a clawed hand through it, the action drawing a questioning warble from the dragoness before I pressed it against my chest, then once more against the wall at the entrance to the cave.

The mark of death and of a victorious challenger.

She once again warbled curiously, sullenly.

I shook my head and crowed.

'Not mockery.' I thought.

I looked down at the pool of blood and felt the hollow within me replaced with new purpose.

'That dragon did not die in vain.' I brushed past her and stood once more at the edge of my mountain home as I had yesterday, but now when I stood and roared my victory, gone was the empty sound of rote repetition.

My challenge was new, reinvigorated. No more would I defend my home out of habit.

I roared again, an angry, hateful sound.

'I am dead. I died with that stupid male.'

I looked down at my marked chest and turned to the young female.

Then turned and dove off the edge, taking to the skies.

I had not patrolled the entire mountain range for nearly a hundred years, but now I looked with fresh eyes, renewed interest in the safety of my charge.

'My charge. Not mate.'

The spark of life rekindled within me.

'It is I, old and passing, who should have died, made way for new life. This is my duty. My penance. I must now live for them.'

I returned with a fresh kill, a buck.

There was no chance she could stomach it with a bellyful of dragon, but it was required, symbolic.

I was providing now.

She roared at me as I dropped it before her, then stood and roared louder again, then tried to attack me.

I barely moved and allowed her claws to rake against my chest.

When they only succeeded in scratching my scales, leaving my flesh beneath unmarked, she stepped back, now truly aware of how outmatched she and her mate had been.

I nosed the buck towards her and she turned her nose up at it, brushing past me and heading for the entrance with a hateful hiss.

I snarled and headed her off, meeting her hiss with one of my own and pointing at the bloody print on the wall, on my chest.

The sound that came out of her was devastating, accusatory, spiteful, somewhere between a mournful howl and a birdlike screech.

I lowered myself down to lay on my belly, slow, legs aching.

I shook my head and warbled.

'Not a replacement. Not claiming.'

She hissed again and I warbled again, repeating it.

She crashed into me, forelegs wrapped around my neck, claws pressed against my soft, unprotected throat.

Her heavy breathing was the most intimate sound I had heard in centuries and it drew a querulous warble from me.

'Debt must be paid.'

She snarled, her claws tightening around my neck as she questioned, 'No debt. You won.'

I shook my head and warbled sadly, head slouching.

My message was clear and she nearly choked on her grief.

'Won. Still lost. Must protect. Make right.'

She embraced me.

My foreleg wrapped around her neck and again, for the second time in my life in as many days, I comforted a young, hormonal female who had just tried to kill me.

I had forgotten the frustrating, painstaking effort it took to build a nest the right way.

I cut the base layer first, ferrying hundreds of boughs to the once pristine cavern for her to assess before setting me to dulling my claws and beginning the arduous process of peeling a million shavings for the bottommost layer.

Every scrape, they came out uneven, too thin, too thick, too long, too rough.

Her chastisements grew increasingly frustrated before she just snarled and sat in the corner, chewing one of her mate's ribs, something I believe she does out of comfort.

I sigh and drop the bough.

I search the piles and piles, eventually finding a healthy, younger branch.

I sat and began again, at first making slow, steady scrapes, then picking up the pace as these began to come out better, but after a while, something that had never happened before.

My clawed hand would not close.

Try as I might, I could not will it to shut. I pushed it against the ground to try and close it, hoping that would do it, but it just refused to budge.

I began whining like I had never done before. Never before had I been so confronted with the true depths of my age, always and ever alone, no need to do anything strenuous, secure in my power and territory, until a young dragon had to ruin my steady decline by forcing me into the role for the young and fresh.

But I was all she had. No dragon would take an already pregnant dragoness, and she was far too loyal to her mate to let any harm befall her young for simple security.

No. This was how it had to be.

Gripping the bough in my teeth, I used my other hand, less dexterous with it though I may be, it allowed me to resume my scraping, steadily accumulating a respectable pile of wood shavings.

I could feel saliva pooling in my mouth and swallowed, tasting the bitter sap and a stray wood shaving.

I was so distracted that I did not notice the dragoness sitting beside me until she had taken my stiff hand in hers and begun kneading it, not looking up at me as she steadily worked the stiffness out of my joints.

She knew it too.

We were all we had.

My territory was vast and the fear I inspired deeply ingrained in the local psyche of dragons, so it had been nearly two centuries since I had faced a challenger.

Sitting on the pinnacle of my chosen mountain, I watch another young dragon circle the opposite peak.

It had only been a month since the last, and I could not bear to take another life. The thought alone aged me where I stood, but where I stood, I stood tall, proud, menacing. Any sign of weakness in a male and they would be struck down. A thousand years of struggling had shown me that.

Then, getting an idea, I flew down to the cavern and emerged a few seconds later clutching a large mass of something.

It tasted foul in my mouth and the dragoness would not be happy when I returned, but I ascended and flew over to meet the newcomer, landing on the peak he circled and waiting for him to descend and meet me.

The youth landed, but his roar of challenge was choked out of him when I dropped the still fleshy skull of a young dragon.

Perhaps the eye that fell out of its socket did the trick, but the pathetic warble of apology and the swift flight away secured in my mind the renewal of my legend for at least another decade.

I sighed and looked down at the skull, my muzzle scrunching up but sighing again before picking it with my teeth and flying back, returning it to the shrinking cairn of dragon bones in my lair before gliding down to the lake to thoroughly rinse my mouth.

I submerged my head for a while, picking my teeth again and again to make thoroughly sure of their hygiene.

I was using my reflection in the water to clean my teeth when I looked, really looked at my reflection.

My scales were a different colour.

I warbled curiously and tilted my head this way and that, but the reflection never changed.

Once vibrant blues now muted greens, eyes once farseeing and quick to spot prey now tired. So very tired.

I thought back to my cleaning, realizing I would never have taken such a risk in the days when I carved this vast territory out, never daring to turn my back for a moment, lest I lose my head, and I almost did on many occasions.

I thought back, trying to remember what colour I was.

I looked at the scales on my foreleg and they all seemed so wrong. My own body felt alien to me.

I looked over at an ancient tree growing away from the riverbank.

I tore it out and held it up, the withered dragon skull wrapped up in the roots grinning at me just as the young dragon's did in my cavern.

Try as I might, I could not remember the fight.

I sighed and put the tree back in the ground, carrying a few mouthfuls of water over to try and help the roots recover.

I looked at the tree, trying to remember the day I tore my father's head free of his body and claimed his cave.

But I never did remember.

The dragoness found me staring at the tree well into the waning light, prodding me back to awareness.

I blinked and looked at her, warbling disconsolately.

'A thousand years. A thousand deaths. What for?'

She herded me back to my cavern, landing with a huff as her egg filled belly gave her trouble.

I sat outside, ignoring her curious warbles until she retired inside for the night.

I stared out at the peaks until the sun rose again, standing with a creak and diving off to hunt breakfast for us both.

I don't remember the last time I stayed up all night.

I dropped off another load of sticks.

So many sticks. I hated them. Too small to just pick up and too damned pointy.

I had to cut branches and shear the leaves off outside, lest I want a sticky, leaf covered floor.

Then I had to cut the sticks off and carefully dry them with my flames, last I want a hatchling covered in sap one day and nobody wants to clean that.

I paused.

'Not my hatchling.'

I shook my head, returning to the forest and beginning to smoke out beneath a canopy until the leaves fell dead and the branches were not brittle, but still dry.

There were a dozen test patches all throughout my once pristine forest now void of leaves, but I had gotten the hang of it.

I cut more off and ferried this new bundle up.

I landed with the latest one when, suddenly, I apparently forgot how to land and sticks flew everywhere in the cavern as I landed on the pile with a crunch of wood.

Or so I hoped.

The dragoness looked up from her weaving a nest boundary, tilting her head and warbling curiously.

I grouched back with a growl and tried to stand but could not quite get my feet under me.

The dragoness made a worried sound and got up, waddling over to me, quite gravid now and no longer able to safely go hunting.

She laid her sap covered claws on my chest, pushing me down, holding me down.

I growled and tried to push her away but missed.

I gaped, then tried again, missing again.

I warbled in fear, reaching out to touch things and finding them not there, off center.

The dragoness crooned to me, trying to calm me. I swallowed my fear and lay still.

'Calm. Breathe. Look.'

I closed my eyes as instructed and cleared my mind, trying to ignore the sticks poking into my back.

The breathing came naturally with calm, and upon looking again, I saw true, slowly standing on shaky legs.

I shivered on my legs and warbled questioningly.

'How did you know it would help?'

She looked down sadly, then over at the skull of her mate. All that remained now.

She warbled forlornly.

'He calmed me. Helped me breathe. Helped me see.'

I stare at the skull with her.

I reply eventually.

'Every day, I wish it had been me.'

She replies.

'So do I.'

I carry a male moose over to the dragoness with some pride in my step. This signaled the end of todays hunt and I eyed the pile of carcasses in front of her as she ate ravenously.

I was about to ask her if she needed more when her body tensed up, making me tense up.

I looked over at the entrance, expecting a dragon, seeing a charging griffon swooping in.

I dove for it, feeling claws penetrate my belly.

'Clumsy. Too exposed.'

It was already too late for the beast. My scales, the ones it had slid its claws under, now held fast as it tried to yank them free.

Its cry of dismay was its last action before I broke its beautiful neck.

I sagged and fell to my side with a thud, closing my eyes.

'Just a little rest.'

But the panicked warbles of the dragoness brought me back and with a surge of adrenaline, I shot to my feet, looking for the threat, but finding none.

I turn, warbling questioningly at the dragoness and she asked me if I was okay.

I looked down, then craned my head to check my underbelly, seeing the talons of the griffon still hooked under my scales, draining my blood down its legs.

I carefully extract the talons, finding it much easier to breathe after I do.

I can hear my blood thumping inside my head as I drag the griffon corpse over to the dragoness and toss it onto the pile.

She looks up at me with a worried warble, but begins tearing the feathers out of the griffon to line her nest with.

I turn and hobble to the entrance, roaring another victory into the storm outside.

I think I can hear an angry return cry, but no challenger appears to seek revenge.

I return to the dragoness, laying down.

I have never felt so weak before.

I warble in confusing tones.

'Loyal mate. Loving mate.'

She looks confused and almost affronted for a second before I clarify.

'You came for him, even in death.'

We both looked down at the bull griffon, tearing the feathers out with a little more care after that.

They had beautiful plumage after all. Someone should appreciate it, one last time.

She nearly crushed my clawed hand as she panted, tail raised straight up behind her before she sagged, relaxing again, hot breath radiating from her.

I waited, counting to four before the next crushing grip came, now accompanied by a quiet, croaking growl before another wet squish sounded from behind her.

Then, it began again.

Hours passed.

I witnessed her pain, was present for every second of it.

One of the eggs was larger than the others and she cried out, struggling.

She warbled tiredly.

'Too much. I will die.'

I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and she snarled and returned the favour.

We both calmed down and released the other during the next two second break before it began again and I keened with her as finally, blessedly, it ended.

The last egg, the largest egg, joined its siblings. A dozen eggs of various sizes steaming behind her.

I immediately gathered the pile of griffon feathers from around the nest as she circled the pile, tossing them over the pile of eggs until they were thoroughly buried, then circling the entire structure to ensure the clay packed woven sticks were secure.

I sat, staring at the dragoness as she regained her breath and warbled a simple message.

'Congratulations, mother dragon.'

Her happy trill was broken up by a heart-wrenching, mournful sound.

I left and returned shortly with the sun-bleached skull I had insisted on cleaning before it deteriorated further.

She held it under one foreleg, warbling her difficulties to the spirit of her mate whom we both spoke to occasionally, never expecting a reply.

But I knew he would be here tonight.

No father, even dead, would miss this day, and I felt the paranoia of the dead creep up on me.

I wonder if I had done enough, if I could have eased her laying somehow, if it will be warm enough.

My spiral into worry is interrupted when a stick impacts my muzzle.

I snort at the dragoness who chortles and warbles.

'You had that look.'

I rolled my eyes and snort.

'I do not have a look.'

Her deadpan expression told me what she thought about that, so I changed the subject.

'Twelve eggs. Most do not pass six.'

She crooned proudly, nestling the feathers more securely over the eggs.

'Mate was strong. Virile.'

She shivered at what was clearly a happy memory, her loins still tender.

I continue.

'My mate. She laid seven. Would be impressed.'

The dragoness looks at you in surprise and begins warbling a question, but stops herself.

She need only look around at my empty cavern to know how it ended.

I answer unasked question.

'Father. Made nest too close to territory.'

I look down, the day and night, from blessed morning to bloody ending coming back to me in a flash, stealing my breath away.

I can suddenly smell my mate, taste the scent of new life on the air, the taste of blood on my tongue, the feeling of spine and sinew tearing as I took my revenge, the pain. The loneliness. The bitter, endless years.

I awoke later, shaking my head.

The dragoness had not moved, would not move for anything less than an imminent threat, but her relieved trill and concerned warbling, as well as the light of the rising sun told me I had not taken my resurfaced memories well.

'Remembered too much, all at once.'

She tilted her head, warbling sadly.

'Does the pain ever go away?'

I nod.

'You can forget.'

I shake my head though.

'Never forget though. Love. Remember. But move on.'

She stares into my eyes and I stare back, my eyes clouding over as, for a moment, I saw in her place my own mate, for the first time in almost a millennium, the image of our shattered eggs and her mangled corpse replaced with the memory of her smiling, elated form as we looked upon our humble clutch and dreamed of the future.

I warble to the dragoness, still seeing my mate.

'Until death. I protect.'

My claws find my chest, the mark long since faded, but still present on my soul.

The dragoness looks down at her eggs and repeats it.

We would protect.

I brought food. She ate.

I brought food. She ate.

I brought food. She ate. Today, she made a sound of disgust. Something was off about the deer, a good portion of it bad, even though a fresh kill.

I tossed it over the cliff. Bad meat like that was unsalvageable.

I went out again for the second time that day, far outside my usual schedule.

So when I landed and caught a two-legged dressed in leathers looking surprised to see me, I knew then that he had been doing it for a while.

I had seen signs, stripped trees with precise tools, evidence of cleaned kills, worn trails that led not to burrows or safe havens, but continued well past the edge of my territory.

This one was young. I could tell because he did the stupidest thing a sentient creature could do.

He drew his talon. What did they call it?

My voice rumbled out for the first time in centuries, a sound like crumbling rocks, "Dagger."

I flexed my claws in response, accepting the challenge.

I almost felt bad, for he was in such shock at my word that he just stared at my descending talons.

I stopped inches from the older human that had appeared to stand between death and the young one.

The boy fell back, shouting his terror until the older one shouted back and the boy was silent.

I did not recognize many of their words. They spoke differently now, but the older one got on his knees and I recognized the spirit of his request.

Kill him.

Spare the boy.

The young one ran to his elder and it was now that I saw their similarities. Father and son.

Father pushed son to the ground and threw stones at him until son ran away, crying in anguish as though his sire was already dead.

But why was he not dead.

I sighed and lay down before the older human and we watched the boy run away before he turned to me.

Then he spoke in a tongue I understood.

"Forgive the boy, he will learn."

He looks down at that.

"But not from me."

He kneels before me and tears open his shirt, staring into my eyes, awaiting death.

Instead, I spoke, his words bringing the memory of speech back to me.

"Not...by...me."

I stand, the action becoming harder with each passing day, it seems.

"Protect...young."

I raise my claws and offer him my talon as their kings of old once did to me.

He took it and I raised it up, lowered it down and then turned to leave.

I heard him call out, catching only some words in a questioning tone, "...violent.......legend?"

I shook my head and turned.

"Dead."

I pointed at myself.

"Dead."

I swept my wings up to encompass my valley and its vast territories.

"Dead."

I shuffled my wings and slowly folded them.

I sighed and added, "Tired."

I turned and left, the old man watching me sadly.

The first hatchling appeared by surprise.

The dragoness was asleep and I never heard any cracking of any kind.

It was simply there, climbing onto my snout curiously.

I went cross-eyed staring at it while it looked from one of my eyes to the other.

I raise my head and it dangles, hanging from my lip, its high-pitched yelp rousing its mother who takes one look at the hatchling dangling from my snout and snorts, chortling away, squeaking beginning to come from multiple eggs all at once when they hear her.

I stand and walk over to the nest, craning my head over and shaking the hatchling loose onto its mother's back, drawing another chortle from the amused dragoness.

I whistle shrilly and that sets off a chorus of curious yips from the other eleven eggs and she gives me an ugly look as she now starts carefully rocking the eggs, encouraging her young to free themselves, even while the first hatchling ignores convention and dives into an egg, cracking it and rolling away with her new brother in tow, ending up in a heap of confused yips.

I have never laughed that hard before in my life.

I spent the next few weeks, when I was not hunting, lying in the entrance.

A thousand years and my purpose now was as a barrier for hatchling stupidity.

And oh, did they test my cunning.

So far, their greatest attempt to get past me had been to stand on top of each other and charge, hoping to get at least one of them over through volume of numbers and chaos.

I raised my wing and endured the scolding from the dragoness when she returned to find them all growling and complaining at my wing in protest, teething their sharp baby teeth on my softer flight membrane.

I did not mind. I did not mind a thing.

I have never been this happy before in my life.

Every day was a lesson in childhood wonderment.

Their first encounter with the skull of their sire was a memory I would carry to the grave, the dragoness having to put it somewhere high to prevent them from gnawing on it.

I think their sire would have found it just as funny as I did.

Or when they discovered the deeper caverns and disappeared for a day amongst my hoard, the dragoness casually tossing priceless treasures to dig out her children.

So it had gone, that today, she simply left me in charge and went out.

I suspect less for hunting and more for going out alone for the first time in months.

And so, here I lay, doing my best impression of a felled tree.

Most of them lay curled up beside me, snoozing. Two of them chased each other around the nest, but one, the energetic first who hatched ahead of all of her brothers and sisters, she sat a little ways back, staring at the sliver of sky she could see just over my bulky frame.

Her stubby tail idly flicked back and forth and, once, when a bird flew in, realized it had made a horrible mistake and flew back out, she practically jumped across the room, watching it with wide-eyed amazement.

That decided things.

When the dragoness returned and her young swarmed around her for a piece of the hunt, I picked up the curious hatchling by the tail and warbled to the dragoness.

'She must see.'

The dragoness trilled her assent and I tossed the hatchling back, keeping her securely in my mouth and diving out of the cave.

I glided down to the lake, smiling around the concerned yapping coming from inside my mouth as I landed and, finally, lowered my head to the ground and opened wide, the hatchling jumping out and standing in awe, looking around at everything.

And I mean everything.

She screeched and squealed with hatchling enthusiasm about the lake, at the sheer amount of water, at trees, fresh sticks, leaves, dirt, ants, a rabbit, a dozen birds taking flight, the rocks, the waterfall, the mountain peaks and, looking at me, the realization that I was small compared to it all, that she was tiny compared to me, and that made me feel small too.

She cried in terror at first, hiding between my legs and I crooned consolingly to her.

Then, the birds got comfortable with my presence and began singing again.

The sun came out from behind a cloud and the world was full of light and colour.

The hatchling gazed out at the world changing before her very eyes and, shocking me, roared a sound so pure and full of joy that I could not help but copy her, roaring long and loud, the hatchling watching me in stunned amazement before her tail wagged and she gave it her all again.

She jumped for joy when she heard the dragoness roar in reply from a distance and all around the distant peaks, I heard the sound echo back.

Life.

I roared again, full of joy and happiness.

That evening however, I almost regretted it, the hatchling spending every waking moment now trying to get back outside to see it all.

Almost.

They could fly now.

The first hatchling sailed over me and off the edge of the cliff.

I nearly broke my legs sliding off the edge to catch her as she was tossed about in the rising wind from the valley that blew ever upward, barely catching myself as my wings snapped out to just prevent me from painting the side of my mountain red.

The dragoness wrapped me up in a hug and I swear I saw her shed a few scales from stress that morning.

Thus, it was decided to ferry them down to the valley to practice flight.

I sat there as the dragoness carried them down, two at a time, while I watched them, herding them back to the grassy shore until they got the hint.

We started small, the first hatched showing them how it was done through me raising them up on top of my head while they took turns jumping off and gliding to their mother across the clearing.

When they could glide, she lined them all up and began to show them how to fly, showing the dozen the basic movement of flight.

And then, chaos.

She showed them how to flap and jump, intending to show them how to hover.

Unfortunately, what we got were twelve hatchlings shooting off in different directions.

Seven of them managed to land on the grassy shore, two impacted trees, groaning on the ground, two more ended up stuck in trees, forgetting they could glide and having us rescue them and one, well, kept going.

The first.

The dragoness trilled worriedly and sent me off after her.

She ignored every command for her to stop, so I escalated my requests to simply trying to catch her.

She took it as a personal challenge and I ended up being drawn into my first ever game of aerial tag.

We eventually ended up at the end of the valley and, confronted by a peak that ascended into the clouds, I thought I had her cornered.

But then she started flapping harder.

She rose and rose and I could see her panting, already so tired, but still she flew.

I stopped trying to catch her now, as it would be easy now that fatigue had slowed her down, but still she kept going.

We hit the cloud layer and I thought the thinner air would be what got her, but still she climbed.

She beat me past the cloud layer and the peak was so close and she aimed for it, bee-lining, not sure why she could not get her tiny breaths back and her flight path becoming more erratic with every flap until she skidded to a stop atop my tallest peak.

I landed behind her as she tried and slowly did get her breath back, her physiology designed for exactly this.

I sat behind her as she looked out, eyes shining, at the curve of the planet stretching away from her, distant lands even I had never seen so tantalizing to a wayward spirit such as her.

It was in that moment that I knew, one day, she would go and never return, and such a thought made me so sad and happy at the same time.

But right now, as the tired hatchling prodded my leg, I smiled.

I am still needed here. She still needs me.

'She still needs me.' I trilled happily to the sky.

The hatchling tilted her head before I picked her up in my mouth again and descended, gliding for the tiny blue splotch that was a lake.

Today, they learned violence.

I looked upon the female griffon, much larger than their male counterparts.

I looked with only one eye, my other leaking and useless.

I felt weak, my knees starting to shake before I locked my legs with a groan.

I stood tall and proud, roaring yet another victory.

I had to.

Underneath me sat three of the more adventurous hatchlings who had started accompanying us on our daily hunts, honing their skills by chasing rabbits and dropping on them from above, then finding they kicked quite hard, much to my amusement which they protested heartily.

Then the youngest had shrieked in terror and dove back through the trees, a spitting, screeching predator as large as me slashing trees to ribbons in her blind, vitriolic hate for dragons.

I took the slashes and lost my eye, not daring to move and expose my precious hatchlings, waiting for my opening to lunge, finding myself disoriented as she rebuffed me, her beak and claws shredding my sides.

I used her momentum to spring forward again past her guard and though she backpedaled with a terrified squawk, I took her life with a swift grip and a twisting snap.

'They always think talon beats scale, but not every time.'

I look blindly around, gritting my teeth and blinking away the blood from my one working eye, spotting one, two, then three hatchlings staring up at me in awe.

I finally heard the answering roar of the dragoness and set my jaw.

Help would come.

I heard a rustle in the trees and the hatchlings all scampered underneath me again as I crouched, growling, blood gurgling from between my teeth.

This hellish visage is what met the old human from before.

He sees me, then the griffon, then my hatchlings.

"Mightiest hunter. Not your enemy."

I stop growling but do not relax my stance, sitting down on the hatchlings, much to their dismay, curling my tail around them, remembering that the human you see in front of you is to distract from the one behind.

Sure enough, I hear rustling from behind me and the boy appears as well.

They disappear again as the dragoness lands, all fury and anger as she looks around, seeing my bleeding visage and looking worried before her hatchlings dash out to her.

I growl at her.

'Go. Danger not passed.'

She immediately scoops them up and takes to the sky, disappearing over the treetops.

A few seconds later, the humans reappear.

There are more of them now, at least a half-dozen.

I growl again, but finally, my legs give out and I collapse, panting.

I find that I cannot hold my head up anymore and I lower it to the ground.

I meet a human at their level for the first time, the older man standing off to the side to avoid the blood spitting from my muzzle with each ragged breath.

I just cannot get my breath back.

He reaches out and rests a hand on my muzzle and I cannot muster the strength to growl at him.

He says in the old tongue, "You protect young."

Then a strangled roar is forced out of me, a great, searing pain on my belly and side.

Mercifully, it goes dark, and I think no more.

I awaken to the smell of woodsmoke and cooking meat, followed by the awakening to pain.

I hear several tiny footsteps hurry away from me.

I wish to raise my head, but find I still cannot.

The older man appears where I can see him.

"Mighty hunter, you slayed our enemy. We help, save you. Repay debt."

He rubs my muzzle again and I find I do not want to growl so much.

"We take griffon talons. Griffon head. Rest your kill."

He rubs my muzzle one more time.

"Do our best. Rest up to you. Be well, Legend."

He turns to go, but a gutteral rumble in my chest makes him pause.

With herculean effort, I manage to struggle and raise myself up on one foreleg.

The action costs me and I feel dizziness upon me, but the mutterings around me are full of awe.

Panting, I raise my other foreleg and say, "Life."

I chortle, pointing at myself.

"Life."

Then I point at the human.

"Life."

I stand on shaking legs, retching up bile and blood, but remain standing.

The older human bows to me and they disappear into the forest again, not returning.

I make certain they are gone before I look down at the cold, decapitated griffon corpse.

Spitting out a glob of blood and saliva, I open my maw to roar, but the sound fails me.

My jaws snap shut and I grit my teeth.

'I cannot ask that of her. She owes me nothing. Must protect young.'

I do not cry for help. For assistance. I will not draw more attention to my weakness.

I grip the griffon corpse and begin dragging it, oh so slowly, in the direction of my lake.

It takes me all night, but with the rising sun, I come to a stop at the edge of the clearing.

I lay down, feeling stronger, but still not enough to fly.

I rest my head on the soft grass and close my eyes, but before I can sleep, I feel tiny talons sink into my back.

I sigh.

'I would recognize those anywhere.'

I see the first hatched land in front of me, followed by the three from our hunting trip before, following an angry roar, their mother, looking for them.

Her tone quickly shifts to worry and concern, finding me laying in the grass by the lake after a night of silence.

I warble quietly.

'Not concern. Must protect young.'

She proceeds to bite my tail. Hard.

I fail to rise with the shock of it, just collapsing, snarling at her for her actions and instead meeting her concerned muzzle bumping against mine, the dragoness starting to whine when she sees my blinded eye.

'Need you. Hatchlings need you. I need you.'

She keens with worry, a sound I never thought I would hear her utter for my sake.

'Never forgive. Can never repay.'

I whine and continue.

'Weak. Failed.'

She snarled and her jaws snapped shut right in front of my good eye as she replied forcefully.

'Call for help! Family will help!'

I did not have a reply to that.

She did not need one. She helped me struggle to my feet, hooking her claws around my chest and belly, causing pain to flare up all around me before, with a grunt of exertion, the dragoness lifted me up, carrying me the short distance to our cavern, the hatchlings following closely.

She landed heavily, panting, helping me to my feet with a coo and guiding me to the nest.

'Sleep. Rest. Will hunt.'

I was in no condition to argue. I curled up and went to sleep.

I did not wake for three days, but when I did, they were all waiting, a fresh kill under my nose and several tiny tails wagging happily at the pile of rabbits they had gathered for me.

I wrapped them all up in a hug, ignoring their squeaked protests.

I lay on the edge of the cavern, my failing sight gazing out at the sun setting over our valley.

The dragoness on my good side watched it with me.

In the distance, I saw three of our kids returning to their own caverns.

I sighed, relaxing at their safe return.

The dragoness croons beside me, ever concerned for my wellbeing.

I feel a shift in me today, a strength that I know is not recovery, but my last gift.

I nuzzle the dragoness, warbling to her.

'It is time.'

She cannot hide her choked whine, but she is strong for me.

She knows I would not be strong enough to say no to her if she asked me to stay, so she does not.

She knows I must.

I stand, slowly, painfully.

I dive off the edge, one last time, the dragoness accompanying me.

I ascend with each flap of my wings, heading down the valley, quickly reaching the cloud layer and pushing through it.

I soar atop an ocean of white, turning into fire beneath us as the setting sun chases us. I share the heavens one last time with the dragoness who had returned my life to me.

We reached our tallest peak where we met her first hatched, the adolescent dragoness the spitting image of her mother.

Together, they helped me ease down onto the ground and I folded my wings for the last time.

We all sat together for a time, our bravest daughter crooning sadly.

She spoke, not in growls but in tongues taught to her by the humans we entrusted to reestablish dragonkind's connection with the world at large.

"I'm going to that furthest peak, and when I reach it, I will look back and know you are watching out for me."

She nuzzles her cheek against mine.

I reply in tired warbles, full of excitement even now.

'A thousand years, and you are still my greatest achievement, daughter.'

She chokes on her grief and goes to take off.

"I will make you proud!"

I grumble out before she can leave, "Already. Proud."

She flies away and the dragoness and I watch her vanish into the distance.

I growl out.

'You broke your promise.'

She chortles and warbles.

'So fight me.'

We laugh together.

She stands and I watch that distant peak shine with the light of the setting sun behind me.

I growl out.

'You calmed me, helped me breathe, helped me to see.'

She whines sadly, but with resolve.

'I promise, I will never forget.'

She warbles.

'My mate.'

Then she grips the back of my head and twists, the snap echoing down the valley, followed by her mournful roar, carried on the wind.

The End