Heartbroken

We stayed like that for what felt like forever. My heart ached for this little dragon who had been through so much. I felt like she was a part of me. Her head was resting on my chest, right over my heart.

She seemed so lost and confused; I didn't even want to imagine what she must be feeling right now. In what must have felt like a week or less, she had lost her parents, her village, her sight, and now looked like she had lost a boxing match with an avalanche and miraculously survived, only to get under the claws of a dragon stampede.

And that was an understatement.

I wanted to comfort the little eight-year-old, but what the hell could I say?

'Hey, kid, you just lost your home, your family, your friends and your sight, but don't be sad, there's a bright side!'

Yeah, that'd help.

What the heck am I supposed to do?

For now, I just held her, hugging her close with my wings as she cried. I looked at her helplessly, wanting to do something. I felt so useless, saying and doing absolutely nothing to help her, except for being there. And, knowing Ignitus, it wouldn't be long until I had to go run more 'errands.'

It was nearly midnight; we had been like this for how long? Just sitting there, me trying to comfort her, to no avail. I wish I could see her smile; I haven't seen a single one. I wondered vaguely if this was how Mom and Dad had felt when I left: helpless to do what they wanted to do more than anything else – help me.

I wish my mom were here now, she would know what to do. She always did. What would she do if she was here?

Suddenly I remembered something. I reached into my bag and drew out my necklace, the one I'd had since I was so little – the purple amber drop with the unfortunate golden-yellow butterfly frozen forever within.

I raised Myst's unhurt forepaw and gently placed the necklace into it. "I want you to have this."

"What is it?" she asked, her sobbing quieting a little. She moved her head to her forepaw and sniffed it curiously, only to sneeze, her head rocking back and then forward in a quick jerk.

I had a hard time not laughing; she was just too adorable. But it passed quickly and I sobered again. This little eight-year-old had been through more than anyone I had ever met.

"It's a necklace. Here." I took it and slipped it over her head. It fell down to the base of her neck, hanging a little low, but there was nothing I could do about that.

It wouldn't accidentally fall off because of her horns, and it would be very hard to destroy. Nothing can destroy spider silk. Dad told me it's one of the strongest things in the world; the only problem was getting enough of the stuff. The dried mushroom amber wasn't quite as indestructible, but it was strong enough to withstand a lot.

Myst raised one scarred forepaw and touched the amber bead, exploring its smooth surface with one white talon.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice. She had finally ceased crying, to my amazement. If it were me, I don't think I'd ever stop crying. This little dragon was stronger than me in that way. She was doing her best to put on her brave face, even after all she had been through.

We fell asleep like that, me doing the best I could to comfort her. Or was it her trying to comfort me? I wasn't even sure anymore. I fell asleep singing the lullaby again, not even half finishing it before nodding off.

I blinked, seeing two young dragonesses in front of me, sleeping side by side, the white one's cheeks still glistening with tears. Was that us?

It looked like us, black and pink and white, but did I really look that exhausted? That skittish? At every small noise, my body jerked slightly or winced, and I saw my own eyes twitch under their lids.

This was distinctly unnerving for me. I was standing there, watching myself sleep.

"Quite strange, isn't it?" A voice cut into my thoughts, and I turned.

"You again," I said stiffly, trying to express my displeasure at having my sleep interrupted.

The spirit chuckled and shook her obsidian head. "You sound so like your father did when he was young."

I stared. "I thought no one knew their fathers?"

She laughed again. "Young parents, so stubborn." She shook her head again. "Many more managed to discover their children's identities one way or another. He was one of the few who could bear to look on from afar and make sure you were okay without approaching you."

"That custom needs a painful death!" I declared hotly.

The dragoness let out a full-throated laugh. "You won't get an argument from me, little one."

"Answer something for me," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Are you, or are you not dead?"

"Your father's pride and your mother's sharp tongue," the spirit assessed, smiling, "as well as her lack of sense to the right place and time."

I growled. "Well, who are– I mean, who were they?"

The dragoness's eyes sparkled with mischief. "When you can tell me your mother's name, then I will have a gift for you."

I gave her one of my best death-glares and a snarl. "My mother's name is Nina! NINA! She was the one who raised me and the one who cared for me. That is how I define 'mother.'"

I saw something flash in the spirit's eyes. She looked heartbroken, I thought, but she blinked and it was gone.

"I suppose that is your decision to make," the dragoness said, her face a mask. She looked at me. "What do you want?"

"Huh?" I blinked. She had sprung this one from absolutely nowhere.

"Do you want to go home?" she asked. Her searching emerald eyes met my own equally emerald eyes. "Do you want to fight?"

I stared at her, a lump forming in my throat. "What kind of question is that?"

"One that needs answering." Her eyes studied me with an inner wisdom that annoyed the heck out of me.

"Of course I don't! I've had enough fighting!" I wondered if I was answering right. What was she looking for? I had no way to tell. "This war is hell!" I said, challenging her to disagree or reprimand me for my use of language. "All this fighting is hell! I don't want to do more! I try to make a game out of it, try to forget I'm killing, killing, killing, again and again!"

I looked at her, closer to tears then I ever had been. "Will it ever end?"

I never cry, I insisted to myself, forcing the gathering tears to remain hidden.

The spirit dragoness looked at me sadly. "I hold no answers, young one. All I can say is that you are wiser than most, for what little help that is."

"Very little help," I clarified.

"I know," she sighed, "I know. It took years for your parents to realize that, and by the time they did, it was too late for them."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, "really clears that up. Now, please, either leave or tell me something that's actually useful."

The dragon sighed and, right before my eyes, dissolved into shadow. The room faded until I was back, once more curled around Myst.