Khora climbed onto her mothers lap, the flames of the library's fireplace lighting up her hair. The graying hair covered her face in shadow, but the child wasn't worried about that. The young princess leaned against the queens body. "What are we reading today, mamma?" The princess felt a hand on her head, and the warmth of a smile came from the shadowed face above her. Her mom reached over to a table, pulling over a book.
"Let's see," Her voice was old and weathered, it still brought Khora a warmth that she never felt from her father. The book was large, it had a red leather cover. Khora couldn't quite read all the words on the cover, but she recognized the largest one. Dragons, "Tales and Tails of Half-Dragons." Khora smiled, one of her front teeth newly missing. This one sounded new, she loved her time with her mom. The queen opened it to a random page, the ring on her finger reflecting the candlelight next to them. They sat there, reading stories of half human, half dragon heroes and villains. Some who lived forever, and some who lived short lives. She felt herself dozing off, and was half asleep when she heard her father's voice.
"Are you reading her those silly stories again?" His harsh voice caused Khora to close her eyes tighter. Her dad scared her, she was glad she had her mamma to protect her. She felt her mom's grip on her small body tighten.
"Leave us, David," Her mom pet the princesses' hair softly, her bony fingers acting like a comb for the child's long hair, "This is my time with her."
"And I told you not to tell her silly stories like that!" His voice raised, echoing throughout the entirety of the library, "She'll get the wrong idea. That dragons are⦠good," His voice seemed to catch on itself, as if the man struggled to say it.
"What will you do about it?" Her mother sat her down in the rocking chair and stood up. The princess was still holding her eyes shut incredibly tightly, all she could hear was the shuffling of her mamma's feet towards her father. They argued, it all blurred in Khora's head. It felt as if it went on for years, but she forced her eyes open when she heard a strike. The light flooded into her eyes, and it surrounded her parents, the king standing in front of the queen, his hand beside her face.
"That," The king grabbed Khora's mamma's arm and pulled her away, the little princess scrambled out of the chair. She heard her mouth shout for her mamma. Her little legs ran through the library, following her parents through the halls. The most she saw of them was her mamma reluctantly following around corners. They went down some stairs, into a dark part of the castle that the princess had never seen. The light from the candles on the wall seemed to be swallowed by the shadows of the room. It was covered in cages that Khora couldn't see very well, her vision was too blurred by tears starting to form in her eyes. She looked into the darkness of the room, and saw her father and mamma in front of an open door. "It was about time to get rid of you anyways." He threw her mamma in the room. The little princess ran and hid behind a cage, she closed her eyes tightly and listened. The cries of her mamma came from behind the door, with a chorus of sounds of crunching and flesh ripping apart slowly overtaking her mamma's voice. She felt tears begin to fall down her face. She heard her father lock the door. The girl tensed as he walked past her hiding spot.
The princess pried her eyes open, she was now alone in the dark, mysterious room. She looked over to the door her mamma was thrown behind and slowly walked over. Tears streamed from her face as she approached the door. The girl knew what happened, but she didn't want to believe. Her tiny hand knocked on the door, "Mamma?" The barely audible voice cracked. No response. The princess felt a frog in her throat, her tears began to flow faster. She kept herself from crying too loudly, she didn't want anyone to find her here. She'd leave, she'd run. Her bare feet backed from the door, she felt something cold against her heel. Her mamma's ring. The girl bent down and put it in her pocket, she'd wear it someday. Just like her mamma did.
The girl looked back at the kingdom walls as she ran into the forest. She couldn't come back. Her still bare feet scraped against loose rocks as she ran further. The forest seemed to grow around her, and she felt her breathing speed up. A voice knocked the girl out of her panic, not just one voice, many voices. They were looking for her, she dug herself under one of the tree's writhing roots, holding her breath. The ground outside was covered in stomps, they all called her name. She couldn't let them find her. As the final boot left her vision she released a breath and crawled out of the root. She couldn't leave, her foot was caught in the root. The princess felt herself begin to cry again, when a hand suddenly grabbed her leg. It didn't feel like a human hand, but it slowly and carefully released her foot from the root. When she was free, she looked at her rescuer. Scaled, clawed hands, curly hair bouncing on its shoulders, a small tail that flicked back and forth, wings covered in reflective scales, and tiny horns. Were half-dragons real? The creature reached one of its clawed hands out towards Khora. The princess flinched, but it stopped before reaching her. She stared at her reflection in its scales.
"I'm Felix!" It said in a happy voice. His dark skin contrasted against his bright, reflective scales in a way that only made the princess stare more, "Do you guys not have handshakes?" He pulled his hand away slowly and wagged his tail, "What's your name?"
"I'm," Khora shook her head softly, reorienting herself, "I'm Khora!" She wiped her tears and tried to step towards the small half-dragon boy. She felt a sting in her foot and sucked in some air in pain.
"Are you okay?" Felix knelt down and looked at the princesses' feet. He pulled out a small bandage and began wrapping both of her feet. "You gotta be more careful out here. Where are you from?"
"The-" She got quiet and looked back towards the castle.
"The city?" Felix looked in the direction she was looking and smiled. It wasn't visible from here, but he knew the general direction. Khora nodded shyly. She didn't want him to treat her differently because of who she is. She hated the special treatment she always got.
"Where'd you learn to do this?" Khora looked at the boy, who had just finished wrapping up her feet.
"My mom taught me!" He looked at his handiwork proudly. In truth, it was shoddy, but Khora would take what she could get out here. "I can-" The boy was interrupted by the princesses' stomach rumbling. A few birds flew out of the tree from the sound. "Are you hungry?" Khora nodded shyly. Felix dug in his pack and handed her a few nuts and berries, popping one in his mouth as well.
"Thank youâ¦" She cautiously picked up the food and slowly ate. It tasted amazing, better than some things the servants back home prepared. "Where are you from?"
"Oh! A clearing in the-" He was once again interrupted by someone calling his name. He turned back to her, "I have to go, can we meet here again?" The princess nodded as she watched his mirrored scales disappear into the forest. The princess stared at the berries staining her skin and smiled softly.
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Fenrir pushed his body into Marath's. The two lie in the clearing, the waterfall splashing droplets on their bodies. His long tongue followed the curves of her neck as they basked under the sun after their morning spar. She laughed, her scales shivering under the slightly larger dragon's touch. "Fen," Her snout pushed against the side of his head, "We've been here for too long, we should check on the clutch." The larger dragon sighed softly.
"It's been forever since we've had time to ourselves, Wynfir and the eggs have taken up all our time," He wrapped his claws around her body, holding her to the ground playfully, "Just until the sun begins to set?" The younger dragon looked at the sky, the sun nearing the horizon. She lazily relinquished control to Fenrir.
"Fine, but no longer, Fen. You're a bad influence on me." She smiled at him and pulled his weight towards her with her own claws. The two sat there calmly, soft purring like sounds emanating from the dragon's throats.
"I've never not been an influence on you, Mar," Fenrir smiled as he whispered into Marath's ears. It was true, the two had known each other their entire lives, they were only a few days apart, "Besides, you love my influence, we wouldn't be here otherwise."
"Yes, yes. I know, Fen," She wrapped her tail around his, pinning it down in a show of dominance, "Now shut up. Let me actually enjoy this time with you." The two laughed with each other softly, and let themselves enjoy the ambient noise of the clearing. Fenrir listened to Marath breathe softly in his ear, and she listened to his nearly silent purr. He didn't know how often he made that sound around her, but she adored listening to it more than most anything in her life. The two sat there, enjoying each other's presence until the sun fell. They both saw the first star appear in the sky and each dragon flapped their wings, letting the blast of air push them, both to their feet.
"I suppose Wynfir and the others will be wondering where we are by now," The glass-dragon sighed, but his tail slightly wagged, clearly happy to be going back to his family.
"Shall we walk?" Marath began to walk towards their cave, her tail flicking in the air, beckoning Fenrir to follow.
"And spend more time with my beloved? Always," The pair walked through the forest, wings scraping against trees. The forest was thick around this time of year, good for protection, good for hunts. When they made it closer to the cave, both of them stopped. There was a smell in the air. Fenrir looked at Marath, fear in his eyes reflected by the fear in hers, "Is that?"
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"Yes. Hurry." The smaller glass dragon climbed through the trees, her scales shifting colors seamlessly. Fenrir quickly followed, their vision towards their cave made clear. Smoke billowed out of the entrance, covering the stars close to the cave. They both flew closer, the wind rang in Fenrir's ears as the smell became stronger. Burnt dragon flesh, and the smell of cooked eggs. Whoever did this did it brutally, and did it totally. Monsters. There were two humans at the entrance to the cavern, they scanned the skies with their hands readied on their crossbows. Of course it was humans. Fenrir and Marath looked at each other, only their eyes clearly visible behind the camouflage. He read the intention behind her eyes and nodded. His throat began to glow along with hers.
The two landed on the walls of the mountain above the cave entrance, their claws dug into the wall. A rock fell on one of the human's helmets and it looked up. As soon as it caught sight of them, the two blasted each human with a massive gob of molten glass. They were barely able to make a noise before the glass began to cool as it slipped down their throats. The two glass-dragons allowed their throats to glow again, getting ready to blast another gob of molten metal at any of the monstrous humans that had made their home in their cave. They crawled through the smoke, both upside down on the roof of the cave. With the secondary, transparent eyelid over their eyes they were able to see through the smoke relatively well. Inside the cavern, there were bodies of their family being burnt scattered throughout the entire cave. Fenrir felt sick as his eyes scanned the bodies. Wynfir, their youngest sibling. Fexil and Xaviay's bodies lay over Wynfir's, both Fenrir's father and dad had holes ripped through their wings. The humans were more monstrous than Fenrir had even guessed. They kept crawling around the ceiling, the heat from the fire began to get to Fenrir.
In the area where their clutch lay, there was one human continuing to burn the area. And it wasn't just burning, the eggs had all been individually stomped, as if to ensure that none of them would survive. The burning was just added cruelty. The insides of the eggs lay around the floor, much of them already turned to ash. Marath dropped before Fenrir could even react, her body pushed through the smoke, clearing a path. As she landed on the human, her scales shifted back to their reflective hue. The flickering flames reflected off of her scales beautifully. Her throat glowed with a bright orange tint as she lowered her head towards the human. Fenrir could see her throat get brighter as the molten scales rose towards her mouth. She wanted this human to feel it. So did he. He felt a sinister smile rise on his mouth as the flames spread around Marath. Kill it, he felt himself think. A drop of molten glass dripped next to the human, its eyes flicked towards it and back to the glass-dragon on top of it.
A spark of iron reflecting the light from the flames, that was the last thing Marath saw. A larger human plunged a blade into her skull before Fenrir saw it coming. The remaining molten glass fell out of her mouth first, followed by the rest of her body. It crushed the human she was standing on, and covered her lower jaw in molten glass. The human took its blade out of her skull and looked around. Fenrir acted before he could think. A gob of molten scales flew out of his throat, the human reacted faster than the dragon had ever seen one act. It raised his shield, making the molten glass splash past it and land on its arm. The only reaction the human had was a grimace. Fenrir prepared more gobs from his breath-sac, when the human pointed at him. "Keep your crossbows trained, fire when it moves!" He looked around, there were fully armored humans that moved out of hiding spots in the cavern, each held a crossbow aimed at him.
"I would prefer if you live, I would love to use your blood," Another human walked into the clutch-room, holding a cloth to its nose. It seemed to be wearing fancier armor and cloth, "And you may be a beast. But you clearly know you're losing here." Fenrir looked around the cave. As much as he hated to admit it, the human was right. The dragon closed his eyes and focused. At the same time his scales shifted colors, he leapt across the ceiling. Each human aiming at him released their crossbows, each bolt snapped against the ceiling where the dragon previously was. The fancier human looked at the ceiling and cursed under its breath. "Boran, deal with the beast. I must rest, the kingdom is expecting my speech tomorrow.
"Yes Sire," The larger human, saluted and made gestures at the other humans around the cave. A few humans began to escort the fancier one out as Fenrir slipped further into the cave. He rested in a cavern hardly big enough to fit his body. But it had a small crack that led to the surface. After a while of waiting, the glass-dragon heard an echo repeat itself through the cave. "Let the beast burn, we're done here." As the dragon listened to the humans' noises being slowly overtaken by the crackling of fire, he felt something in his chest die. It was replaced by hatred. Replaced by the need for revenge. Fenrir wouldn't love until the humans were dead.
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Boran sat in his family's dining room as he played with the wooden bear that mom had just gotten for his twelfth birthday. The boy hummed to himself, the same song that his mom always hummed to him as a child. It always calmed him down, especially when his father was yelling in the other room like he was in that moment. His father always yelled, the boy thought he knew why, but he was never sure. It seemed like mom never told him. He made the bear bite the throat of the half-dragon statue he got for his eleventh birthday. He loved the little gifts his mother carved for him, and she promised to start teaching him how to carve tonight. He looked forward to it, his mother was always good to him. Better to him than his father was, at least. Boran looked towards the door his parents were behind, the yelling was too muffled for him to understand, but he felt himself twitch whenever he heard his father's voice. When eventually his father's voice is all that he heard.
The boy dropped his toys as the door opened. He looked at his father as he came through the door, a massively large man with black hair and a scarred face. The massive man looked down at him, his eyes sparkled with residual anger, "What are you staring at, kid?" His voice was gruff and scratchy, filled with years of yelling and straining.
"Nothing, father!" Boran looked at the floor, he felt himself shake and heard his father laugh at that.
"Good." He sarcastically responded to his son's fearful reaction. The man slapped his son's head as he walked towards the home's door, "I'm going to the tavern."
"Okayâ¦" Boran's eyes began to fill with tears, "See you later, da-" He caught himself, "Fatherâ¦" The larger man didn't answer him. He instead just slammed the door, causing everything in the house to shake. The boy stood up as soon as his father left. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he had to be the strong one. He had to be. Boran quickly walked to the door, he took a breath as he opened it. "Mom?" His voice cracked as he peered into the dark room, "Are you okay?"
"I'm so sorry, baby," A shaky, quiet, scared voice came from the corner of the room. Boran rushed over, hugging his mother tightly. Her weak frame twitched at his touch, but she softened into his hug when her body recognized who it was.
"You don't have to me sorry, mom. It's not your fault." He stroked a hand through her hair, "It's not your fault." He felt himself begin to cry again, but the boy managed to keep even a single tear from falling.
"I'm so sorry, sonâ¦" His mother wrapped her hands around his body and squeezed as hard as she was able, "I should be able to protect you." Her protect him? No, that was his job. To protect her from her monster of a husband.
"No, it's okay mom." He squeezed tighter, the pair's fabric clothes rubbed together in the dark of the room. He looked at her, but his eyes were unable to see any features. "Let's go, I wanna see my mom,"
"No," She twitched and pulled away from him, "You shouldn't see me like this. I shouldn't let you." The boy slowly picked her up, his right arm went under her legs, and his left arm went around her shoulders. She was light, it helped Boran was remarkably strong for a twelve year old, but his mother never ate enough.
"I'm taking you to the light, you need someone to take care of you." He let her wrap her arms around his neck as he walked his mother to the other room. The first thing he saw was blood running from her head. There were cuts and red marks all over her visible body, from her feet to her head. There were almost certainly more where Boran couldn't see. He felt bile rise from his throat, his father went too far. They had to get out of here.
"I'm so sorry, my little Boran," His mother had tears running down her face as she spoke. She choked on her own words as she spoke, "You shouldn't see me like this," Some of her blood dripped on the floor.
"Let me fix this, mom. Please," He sat his mother down on the chair, making sure she was steady. "I'm gonna go get some cloth and alcohol, okay?" She nodded as he left. This wasn't his first time cleaning her up, but it was her first time bleeding this profusely. Boran looked at the hand he stroked her hair with, it was covered in her blood. Father really had gone too far this time. The young man spent the entire afternoon bandaging up his mother. He used most of the alcohol in the house, and her wounds were still bleeding under his makeshift bandages. He looked at her carving knife and brought it over to her, "Teach me?"
"I did promise I would, didn't I," Boran's mom weakly smiles, and she backs up in the chair, letting her son sit in front of her. She turned them towards the table and guided his knife holding hand towards a piece of wood. They sat in silence for a bit, the only sound in the house the slow carving of wood. Boran wasn't very good at it, but he wanted to get better. It was fun⦠calming.
"I'm hooooome~" His father opened the door, his voice exposing his obvious drunkenness. He walked past the pair, both of whom were protecting each other. The drunk man seemed to ignore them as he went towards the door to his bed. Boran gripped onto the knife and got up, taking a breath. He shook off his mom's grip, he knew what she was looking at him like, and he didn't want to look. It'd stop him from doing what he needed to do. He stomped towards his father. No, not his father, towards the man who lived in his home.
"Adlee!" Boran shouted, the shakiness in his voice transferring to his knife hand. The drunk man turned around and looked at Boran. He looked down at the knife as it stepped closer to him in the shaking hands of its wielder. The drunk man laughed, thick mucus falling through the air and onto Boran's face.
"Oh please," He pointed at the knife and looked around, as if talking to a group of people, "What'll ya do with that huh? You don't have the balls." As Adlee spoke, Boran had already sliced at his chest, blood flowed through his now broken shirt. The man looked down at his chest and coughed, bloody mucus escaping his throat. He fell to his knees, eye level now closer to Boran's. The boy screamed, letting the tears in his eyes blur what he was doing to his father. His knife hand went back and forth, stabbed in and out of the drunk man in front of him. His hands got covered in warm, thick blood for the second time that night. His father's shirt fell off before his body fell. It revealed the scales on his shoulder as he fell.
The small part-dragon boy stood above the body on his home's floor. Boran's mother gasped, her mouth covered by both of her hands. She knelt down and took off Boran's shirt, there were a few small red scales on his shoulders as well. She grabbed his knife arm, which was completely covered in Adlee's blood. "Boran, nobody can know about these, okay?" She pushed his hand up to his shoulder, the knife now resting right above his scales.
"Okay, mom," The boy closed his eyes and pushed down, biting through his tongue, making it profusely bleed. Boran cried that night. The night he learned how to carve wood, flesh, and scale.