The night was calm, the last light of dusk smeared purple and pinks over the horizon. Clouds were vacant, showing us vibrant holes in the ebony stone above. The moon left its place in the center, allowing the stars to shine all the brighter. The ocean below was a collage of all the hues of blues, glinting within its choppy waters. Gentle winds blew in the smell of his homeland and the sea, his nose picking up the familiar salt and sediment.
He hated it.
The painted horizon would soon be scrapped away to show its true hide. The scorched sky would remind him too much of his enslavement, the feeling of claustrophobia rising within him. While the moon left the stars alone, the poor fellows would only have a better view of the carnage coming. The slashing waves would soon be replaced with glinting metal, reflecting the blood of his kin. The winds whip his senses with the bitter, cold waters and leash him to his volcanic prison.
He hated it.
But, nonetheless, he will do what has to be done. His kin needs him for protection, inspiration, and hope. He protects them from the traitorous fires that leave them vulnerable. He tries to inspire them to do all they can and them some, for the promise of tomorrow. He attempts to give them hope that things will get better, coming from the mouth of the lone species.
He hated it.
He tries to do these things, the attempts, but they seem all for naught. He sees his kind shrinking as the days go on. Even though the young are still being born at a rapid rate here, the dead seem to be slowing all of us down. Mothers can't afford to be stubborn or picky, any nice male would do. Fathers can't always stay to teach their offspring, that leaves the job to the queen. And the young themselves, they don't always remember their own names. Why would they? To do such a thing would be a dishonor to the nest, individuality would lead to selfish thoughts and actions. And this could be the downfall to a large portion of the dragon kind.
He hated it.
Looking back on his life, he is no better than this generation. Abandoned, yet already knowing how to survive the reality. He remembers looking up to see the nest, the taller species, and the queen. He remembers the tales that the queen would share, about how different types of dragons would live in all parts of the endless world. An individual dragon living without a care, flying without a destination in mind, gorging themselves of food not of their own, and eventually all dying at their own claws.
He hated it.
Well, that's what he told to everyone else. He will only admit it in his own mind, that in a way, this lifestyle was more ideal than the one he lived now. The thought of soaring until his wings had touched from one side of the world to the other, entices his so. The mention of him being the last of his kind, gave him an unintentional name to call himself by. The very thing that he was taught not to be, was what he was born to be.
He hated it.
But he couldn't stop now, the days of changing him had passed, there was no way that he could not become himself. So he thinks of the whole, leaving himself out of it. It helps, but he often wonders if the queen was right. Did this way of thinking cause him to become selfish, putting others in harm's way as he flies above in safety? Was this way of thinking the cause of him being a pariah within his own mind? Will this way of thinking eventually pin him to his own death? He didn't know.
And he hated it.
A low call resonates throughout the isle, coding the feeding flock that it's hunting time. I rise above the rest, awaiting the others to follow my lead in volunteering. I have always volunteered to go, ever since I could fly and shoot flames simultaneously; and I always will.
The group doesn't take long to form, the usual coming in with a few new members joining in. I nod in approval, but feel conflicted yet again. Will these return home and live, or will they die by the hands of steel? Which death will show more mercy?
Another low pitch carries through the air, sending us luck on our journey. We all fly off, one mass coating the sky with our wings.
I spot the island before the others, the silhouette of the mountain and cliffs being all too familiar. The lights were out, all the resident island dwellers seem to be resting.
This was good, very good actually. Even though it's not much, it gives us the element of surprise. And this is crucial, just a few more moments without the humans would save the lives of many.
I push myself higher, above the invisible cloud-line to distance myself. My hide blends nicely in the dark, with speeds that only show me as a blur. The flock below, however, drags themselves lower to the growing ground. The island here is the grave of many dragons. I've seen dragons get ensnared, impaled, or clipped.
So many hairless monsters swarm on the ground, noticeably smaller than the usual but nonetheless threatening. It wasn't long before one from the flock fell, the poor soul realized the axe just a moment too late. More fell after him, pinned at the mercy of the merciless.
After viewing this, I decide that a warning was in order.
On a normal raid, I would shoot at the fires being lifted into the sky. By doing this, the swarm would have a harder time in spotting us. Or, I would aim at some sort of rock shooter. These were dangerous, each boulder would be able to damage a large chunk of the flock. Very rarely would I aim at the enemy, they don't pack together like the Hissers and are normally too close to the food or dragons.
Something happened, a shriek of sorts unlike anything I've heard. It was horrible, even form this height, I was able to pick up the straggling pitch. The noise seemed to vibrate in the air, scarily similar to the queen's calls. But this one was high, too high, the second it came it soon turned hoarse. Whoever did this was is shock, or in pain, or in realization of his or her situation. I choked on my gas, the noise startling me into doing so. It was then morbid curiosity spiked, and I looked down.
On the ground, the dragons were doing what they needed to do. Split-Spines distracting the enemies to themselves, sacrificing one for the whole. A Sun-Bearer clung on a rock launcher, slowing down the preparation of the monster's attack. Magma-Churners were grabbing what fish they could, some desperate enough to even swallow some for storage. However, with the Tail-Whips, there seemed to be a small mob forming.
Again, this would be the norm if it was another day, but the Tail-Whips were forming a barrier of sorts. They were protection something, but the four down below were too packed for me to see. Before long, two were running blindly, leaving their heads behind as they stumbled forward. It was here that I saw something that would forever scar me.
Another Tail-Whip, but noticeable smaller, no bigger than a hatchling. The little tyke was howling for all his worth, the same call that I just heard a moment ago. It seemed so small against the others of his kind, so fragile compared to the larger being surrounding it. Even the horn on it's nose was only half the size of the adults.
I nearly tripped in my flight, why was one such as he here?! Surely someone must have noticed him before now. My eyes narrowed when I spotted the little one's wings as it flared out to appear larger, a pale yellow underside. Tail-Whips were known for their vibrant hides, ranging from dark purple to bright yellow-green scheme. But the one here was a more common color, blue with yellow spots and highlights. What ran my blood cold was that a common, mature Tail-Whip had a yellow underside like that of a yellow rose.
This was a hatchling.
I could only stare as more fell around the youngling, leaving it alone without protection. The grounded beings came closer, wielding out their metal claws. In a vain attempt to drive them off, the babe shot out a few of it's poison barbs. The hairy beasts only laughed as the spikes drove themselves into the ground beneath their feet. I watched as they pinned him down, forcing the child to see his brethren being mutilated. Some hacked off their horns, head, wings, feet, even their prized tail. The body left behind was nothing like it was before, the beautiful dragon reduced to chum.
But what made me snap was what they did to the babe. I have seen the monsters do this before, but never to one so young. One took their weapon, and made a gouging slice through the wings. The little one froze, then looked at what they did.
He howled.
The realization hit him, he was grounded. No longer was he able to escape this isle of monsters, no longer would he truly feel the feeling of flight, no longer will he be part of the nest, for he was crippled. I cried out with him, never had I seen such a heartless deed happen to one so young! Such a short life he had lived, now cut short as his very life was dangling uselessly from his arms.
Not only that, but the beast that did this ordered the others to keep him alive! I knew what they wanted, they wanted to capture the babe as a prisoner. To leave this poor mess trapped in a prison, knowing well that it couldn't leave anyway. Forever behind a cage, trapped to this torture, never to be found again. Whomever was captured was never seen again, a fate worse than death.
No more than a few moments passed during this event, but time slowed for me to enjoy the show. I glided instinctively, my own wings feeling vulnerable at the moment. My moment of shock was now gone, replaced by anger. I've never handled with hatchlings before, and I most likely never will, but I still felt a parental protectiveness to them. And so see such horror angered me so! It felt as if I had failed the babe, that I could have done something to protect him! But I knew, I knew, the true fault lied with the prosecutor. These creatures were beasts before, monsters even, but this was inhumane.
How long, how much longer will this last? When will this pointless bloodshed end? How many lived will be lost?! Who else will perish before my eyes!? Who will I fail again?! Who will slay the next babe?! If anyone deserved to experience this pain of loosing a life, was the leader of the beast!
Like the shock, the anger within me disappeared. An idea formed, one that would have scared him had it not felt justified. Yes, it was the right thing to do, no one should go unpunished for this unforgivable deed.
Doing something I have never even attempted before, I dove to the island below. Unlike other raids, I did so quietly, and without pulling myself up. I landed on the earth, claws digging in familiar, yet foreign, soil. Without missing a beat, I made my way quickly to a specific housing. The fires lit up the sky, making a shadowy path for me to slip without being noticed. The battle seemed to be going on longer than ever, but I needed more time.
I found the housing I was looking for, but faulted when there were no visible openings. How do the land dwellers enter? Do they dig? I never really noticed how they left to start the raids, it never was important until now. Undaunted, I clawed at the wall, hoping to weaken it before plowing through. A log of sorts broke, and part of the wall swung out slightly. I was startled at first, but quickly made use of the situation and entered.
It was strange being in the home of the enemy. Nearly everything was made of wood, and everything that wasn't was metal of different shapes. Weapons were attached to the wall, along with the large scales that they carried with them. But these things were irrelevant to what I initially noticed. My nose scrunched, trying to block out the strong smells swimming around the air. Both a male and female lived here, that much I knew. But other, intense smells attacked my nose. I could hardly stand the different signals that each scent sends me.
Focus, I didn't go this far to back down at a few bad scents. Closing my nostrils, I relied on my eyes to spot my target. The wooden nest had two sections, and my target wasn't at this bottom level. A strange path was connected to both floors, but I found it more convenient to jump on the thick branches. On the second floor was a walkway with the same swing-walls as the one outside. Not knowing where to go, I just pushed at the one closest to me.
Nothing was here, well, nothing I was looking for. I seemed to be a bedding of sorts, a nest within a nest. Bypassing the oddity, I made my way to another swing-wall. The wood wall swung open, allowing me to see the metal just before it hit me.
The force of the object made me fall back down, landing with my stomach turned upward. Wary of my vulnerable position, I pushed myself up and glared at my attacker. On the second level, a pair of green eyes burned like lava. Churning within these eyes were an anger that I've never seen.
But I only blocked it out, anger entering my mind once again. This was the leader, the one who gives out the orders to the men outside. A flashback of the baby Tail-Whip came, and I snarled. This monster will pay, no longer will young blood be spilled, I won't allow it!
"Come at me, devil."
I eagerly accepted the invitation, letting the red haze cloud my eyes and blank out my conscious.
Coming to, I was again surprised at the smell. Unlike before, only one scent resonated my senses. A rusted metal that wasn't unwelcomed, fore it meant that I accomplished what I wanted. I raised my head up and let my pride swell. While this victory will only be temporary, it will hopefully give us more of a chance. Without their leader, the enemy would surely be weakened.
Job now done, I cleaned myself, licking away the rusted metal scent from my scales. After getting myself presentable again, I began making my way outside. But before I did, a noise entered my ears.
It was a whimper of sorts, a quite sound that gave away another life living here. It wasn't something I heard before, but it reminded me of something. The unknown being steadily grew louder, until a horrible screech echoed. My heart stopped, surely this was just a sick, twisted trick of sorts. This sound must be haunting me, reminding me that I had still failed. The cry of the crippled hatchling was again slicing the air, cutting it's way into my brain.
I didn't know why, but I found myself back at the door I was attacked at. Without anyone here to hurt me anymore, I made my way inside. It was another bed-nest, but much smaller. The cries were coming from here, I couldn't ignore this fact, but from whose maw is it coming out of?
I looked at the little nest, seeing something moving within it. Warily, I poked my head to look over the bars. Inside was a little creature, a babe.
A door busted down, causing me to jump but thankfully keeping quite. I heard thumping sounds below, the human's footfalls stomping heavily on the ground. A sudden halt, then a few noises left the mouth of the human. It was soft, I couldn't hear it from where I was standing. But if this was a human, why was it being so silent? It's mate is undoubtedly resting in a pool of it's life source below, shouldn't it be mourning? Or are the humans even heartless towards their own?
Apparently not, because I heard a monstrous roar next.
"WHERE ARE YOU DRAGON! I know you're here! COME FIGHT ME! Come face the wrath of Stoic the Vast, Chief of the Hairy Hooligans!"
Loud crashes could be heard, but I paid them no attention. I may not know much about our enemies culture, but I distinctively heard the word "chief" just now. A chief was another word for leader, according to the humans that is. But, wasn't the leader a female?
Our queen was a female, and she had leaded us for countless of generation. Didn't humans do the same? This was bad, this was very bad. Never before had I wished that I knew more about he humans, I didn't fully realize what a mistake I could make!
I had stolen the wrong life, never once thinking about the consequences. I had slain the mate of my target, and the mother of the babe.
I was no better than the humans.
How to Train Your Dragon Belongs to Dreamworks,
Inspired by the mind of Cressida Cowell.