Dragon Mama - Wilted Vines
Okay, sorry for the excess tag but, the only way to properly describe what occurs here is as "Poetic torture", which is of course of the psychological type. I was so inspired when I wrote this and was falling over in tears right after I finished.
Wilted Vines
They both stared below them at the same time, enticed to look below the soft fragrance of freshly-bloomed flowers. The trip had been long, most of the time was spent in silence, a silence which often would prompt Hirya to make some comment as she could not bear Samuel's solemn silence for long, and it came to an end as they slowly drifted down into a flower meadow.
The wet mist that accompanied Hirya's landing only worked to make the scene even more beautiful, making the flowers glisten. The two of them stopped to take in the scenery, the colorful plants were spread like a carpet, so neatly arranged this might as well be someone's garden. And Hirya's heart sank when she looked under her feet, a clearing in the flower meadow, which extended forward... Such a beautiful place, only the power of a dragon born under the element of wood could do this, she had found the second of her sons.
Samuel gently put a hand on her side, and she looked at him, and wordlessly they followed the path that led onwards. It was clear it'd lead to only one place. Where they wanted to go.
With little trouble they found him, a lot smaller than the rest of his kin, his movements and pose suggested such a gentle and kind demeanor his body looked like the only thing wrong in this place. He carefully treaded through a grove of trees, leaving no leaf turned, no blade of grass bent as he walked, gently caressing the plants and trees, with each movement of his, he'd coax the plants into movement, opening way for a growing bud here, lowering slightly a branch there, so the newborn birds would survive their eventual fall.
Hirya couldn't say a word, she simply quietly followed her son, as he seemed to not notice her and went about, caring for the forest around him. This place was beautiful, poignantly beautiful, sad. The gentle beauty of those woods, the little beasts who hid from those who came by, the gentle flowers. Their arrangement, their sounds, it all cried, it brought tears to the eyes of the watcher, and neither Hirya nor Samuel knew at all how it happened, but it did.
Samuel looked down, and stopped, surprised. Hirya looked when she noticed him stop and saw what caused him pause. They were following a track, a track full of red, flowers colored deep red, crimson grass, vines which grew the color of blood. And they were all behind them, never ahead. When Hirya looked ahead again, she saw Granno staring at her, before resuming to ignore her presence, and continuing his walk.
He led them through the entire forest, leaving behind them a trail of blood red plants, Hirya only grew more and more uneasy, every step he took, every movement he did, even plant he moved, it all had a hidden meaning, she could not get it, but she felt it, and she would not contain the low rumble which slowly started to grow in her throat.
It all ended when they came full circle, and he led them finally to the same grove of flowers where they first landed, but this time, they were all blood red, the grass too, and the wind moved in such a strange way, causing the flowers and grass to sway as if they were stepping on a large puddle of blood. And Granno finally laid down, curled, at the center of it.
It was too much for Hirya, as she walked towards him, as she was just one step away from being close enough to speak, she collapsed to the ground, a loud, bass growl rumbling and echoing through the forest. Samuel simply put a hand over his mouth, muttering "Cruel..."
Samuel moves by slowly, and knelt beside Hirya, gently smiling to her, but without saying a single word further. Hirya then slowly gathered her strength, finally managing to stand up again, what little composure she could muster barely holding her head in level with her son "G-granno..."
And he made a raspy sound, it looked like a cough at first, a horrible strain to his throat. He slowly forced more and more, Hirya was worried but could not move a muscle, and eventually he managed to turn that tortured sound into words "Mother..." his voice was hoarse, unused as it was ever since that day, and bitter.
"Granno... H-how have... You been..." she was unsure of her words, her tail was shaking slightly, she knew the answer to that question, he had told her, all the way during this trip.
"It... Should... Have been... Me" he forced, more and more, voice slowly returning to lungs. He utterly ignored her words, speaking only what he had been storing all of those years. Hirya attempted to speak once more, but he stopped her, his at first faltering voice gaining momentum, coming by more naturally "I am weak, mother... All I can do, is care for this garden..." he slowly unfurled his wings "I cannot hunt... I am always afraid, afraid to hurt another..." he stood up, now this close Hirya could see many scars in his body "I could never defend another, all I could ever do, is rebuild this garden..." he opened his wings with all his strength, and at his command the trees and flowers bent away, showing carefully hidden and overgrown bones, humans and dragons aloge "This graveyard, of people who thought me strong enough to defend them!" he had never done so before to anyone, not since that day, and yet the first time he did so was for the only one he knew did not deserve it, he bared his teeth at her "Eratho was strong, mother, he stood for us! I am weak, it was me you should have killed that day!"
It brought not the closure he thought, to finally use his voice again, to say those words. Although he knew in his heart his mind refused to admit it, the one in front of him was not the monster his mind made her out to be, that day, but the displaced, kind soul his heart always knew she was. Watching her break down, collapse under the weight of regret and despair in front of him, it only hurt him more. His own low rumble joined hers, as he laid down again, this time beside her, gently putting a wing over her collapsed for "What... Have I... Done... I'm... I'm sorry, mama..."
Samuel bit his lip, this was not the time to interfere, so he sat down calmly, all that crossed his mind was sadness, he wondered what sort of twisted society the dragons had that gave birth to such horrible tales.
"E-eratho... I..." she started speaking, without noticing to whom, although she knew that those who had to hear it was there, that was all that mattered "I don't even remember... What my children were doing... Something I thought wrong, but it is meaningless now... I sought to chastise them, they had to... Be stronger. They were cornered, and I did not want to think. It was painful to think, to realize all that I had done was wrong, that like I had suffered I had brought suffering to them too... No, I ran on instinct... I raised my claw, called them careless, weak... Eratho stepped up, in front of his cowering sibilings..." she was in a daze, she could not hear her own words any longer "'Impudent whelp, you have to learn to obey' I yelled. And I brought down my claw... The sound... The sound of bones breaking, the echo... That echo, in the empty cave... It echoed for days... I-I killed him. He was the bravest of my children, and... I killed him, myself"
Samuel tilted his head to the side, and simply watched. As mother and child growled the cry of dragons, a light mist set on the area, giving the crimson swaying flowers and even creepier appearance of a puddle of blood, but as the mist soaked his clothes lightly he noticed the crimson wash away from the plants. It always amazed him, how sometimes the best way to read such powerfully elementally aligned people was not to look at them, but at the surroundings. As he plucked a flower before all crimson would wash away from it, he looked at the child who held his mother as if were she the kid, who cried herself to sleep. "Sometimes... The most gentle hearts, can be the most cruel" he said
Granno looked down at his sleeping mother "Sometimes... The most cruel beasts are the greatest bastions of love in a warped world..."