Dragon Champion
Flight of Sire and Dame
"Are there any left within?"
"No. All of the hatchlings have been brought outside."
"And we've convinced the drakes to come out of their lairs."
"So, it is true, then? The Wyrmmaster has been killed?"
AuRon the Grey, Clutchwinner of AuRel and Irelia, looked grimly at the band of dragons and dragonelles of the Isle of Ice. While he had been living his fantasy of seeing Natasatch fly—and having the fantasy dashed by Starlight's attack, blast him—the other males had been eradicating what remained of the Dragonguard and the Wyrmmaster's loyal townspeople (which were few, since most had had the sense to leave). Shadowcatch the Black, Shieldwall the Copper, and Hawkhit were still hunting the humans. Sharpclaw, Frostcrest the White, Wrathflame the Red, and another Red had taken charge of the effort, only leaving to look for AuRon when they saw him land after his fight with Starlight. They stood around him, flanking their wounded savior and scanning for any sign of ambush, while his mate stood at his side. The dragonelles hovered near the entrance of the compound in the event there was and attack, ready to herd the young ones back inside to protect them.
"It s true, my brother," AuRon said. "That man has been turned to ash…in no small effort of Natasatch's."
"May darkness keep him, I say," replied Sharpclaw, licking the dried blood that marred his scales.
"None of that," Frostcrest replied sharply. "I imagine the pogt thought as much of the other races when he began this endeavor of his."
"All the more reason to say it."
"Then I suppose we shall suffer the same fate, as we were as guilty as he in all of this."
"We were a-washed in his lies—"
"We realize that now," said Wrathflame, "but we hardly have the right to judge that man, when we, not several hours earlier, still believed his lies."
"We are as guilty as he, and shall be judged by the Spirits at the end of our days," replied the Red.
"You are wrong," said AuRon. "True, you have been charged with tasks that even the most ruthless dragon would not entertain, but look what you have done today. You have ended the rein of a man who has destroyed our kind's way of life, forcing dragonelles to endure life in breeding stocks like brood mares, sacrificing their young to battle and castration—" (At that, Natasatch drooped.) "—And denied the young ones a proper dragon upbringing. Your actions this day will be the first of many glories in your songs."
"Perhaps you are right, Grey—AuRon," Sharpclaw replied.
"He is right," said Wrathflame. "We've the chance to begin a-new." He looked over at the dragonelles. "That goes for all of us."
"If anything, Starlight will suffer," added his like-colored companion. "He did not break free of the lies as we have."
The bushes in the nearby forest exploded violently. The hatchlings squealed in alarm and were quickly swept behind angry dragonelles, some still wearing their cages. Natasatch took to the air, because a dragon-dash would not be fast enough, and joined the ring of females in guarding the hatchlings. AuRon and the other males turned to face the danger, growling and ready to breathe fire. Two members of the Dragonguard were running for their lives. They were out of breath and red in the face, but still hell-bent on escaping their pursuers—they did not see the blood-covered dragons before them!
"Away! Away before we are set a-flame!"
Their pursuers emerged moments later: two young drakes, both with black scales, dragon-dashing after the humans. Globs of foua dripped from their mouths. They were fully intent on setting their targets a-blaze, as they feared, but ended the chase when they saw the elder males before them, and settled for blocking the humans' escape should they attempt it.
The Dragonguardsmen fell to their knees, panting, when the drakes backed off…temporarily. Wrathflame and the Red stalked forward. "How foolish you are to let your guard down, Dragonguard."
The humans shrieked with new vigor.
"What goes on here?" the Red demanded. "Why have you returned? Did these fine drakes catch you planning a countermeasure against us?"
"Fine work, boys," said Wrathflame said to the younger males in question.
The dragonelles did not have to ask about an ambush twice. Saima, still wearing her cage, reared up on her haunches. "Come, hatchlings, into the caves—"
"No!" cried a dragonelle called Ahsharel. "If they have any plans to attack, they could have traps waiting for us within the compound!"
"Vermin and demons, you're right!" Ouistrela roared, all boiling blood and pulsing foua once again. "Those with cages, protect the young ones with claw and tail! The rest of us will search the caves again!"
"That's what they want, Ouisa!" said Saima.
AuRon turned to Frostcrest and Seecrest. "You two, go within and search for trap-layers."
"No, no, Rulers of Air!" cried the humans. "We beg, hear us!"
"And what is this?" the Red snarled. "D'you hear that, everyone? Suddenly they worship our kind, after all that has passed. Why, I am flattered!" As he spoke, foua dripped from his mouth and singed the ground, and unlike the two drakes, he had the benefit of flight to follow them if they bolted…and they knew it.
"No you don't!" he said as they tried to scramble backwards. He struck the ground with his tail, nearly cutting off one man's head, and partly buried them with the dirt and rock he had loosed. Then, he pinned them in place with a sii, enough so as not to crush them—yet—and brought his mouth to their ears. "And I would be most flattered to know that my Dragonguard armor would replenish my scale, even if it is hard on the digestion, were I you."
"NO! MERCY, SKYLORD, MERCY!" they screamed.
"And just how do you expect us to grant that?"
"Wait, Lavawhip," said Seecrest. "Perhaps we should listen to whatever dribble they have before we eat them."
"There you lot are!" came Shadowcatch's voice from above. The Black plus his two hunting companions were flying towards them. Hawkhit carried another, dirty, bloodied man in his sii. The trio made one low, sweeping pass overhead before alighting with the other males. "I must have grown too fat if I was bested by two drakes."
"What news have you, Shadowcatch?" asked AuRon.
"Well, it would seem that those two young men are subordinated to this one," said Hawkhit. He set the older man down in front of him. "It would seem he has a message for the dragonelles."
"For us?" was the choral reply from the cave entrance. The Dragonguard captain was promptly shoved before the towering green wall of angry females.
"Speak," was Natasatch's simple command.
"My…my most revenant Queens—"
"For Spirits' sake, get on with it!" Ouistrela growled.
The man flinched. "A-Ah, yes. W-Well, my two subordinates and I were fleeing the rebellion—" (The dragons thought, "Rightfully so" at that.) "—When those males over there came upon us as we prepared a boat," he said, pointing at Shadowcatch, Hawkhit, Shieldwall and the drakes. "They were set to kill us; we were certain they would kill us, but I thought that it would ease your anger but a little if we returned your eggs to you, wonderful Sky Queens."
"We saw the clutching cave," said a dragonelle named Ooyanashe, "while we evacuated our hatchlings from the other cave. It was nothing but a sea of eggs. Even we know nothing of our eggs' whereabouts, so to think that you—"
"The Wyrmmaster had us keep each of your eggs in certain areas, Queen!" he said quickly. "We know which eggs belong to you!"
None were comforted by the rumbling growl of angry dragonelles. "What?"
"His Supremacy had us keep records of which eggs belonged to you, as well as the number of each in a clutch, who the sire was, how many survived to hatch, and even the color of their scales."
The rumble became louder by the moment. Even the dragons backed away. The song dragon-dames sung to their daughters telling of the wrath of a female was known to all dragon-kind, as old as dragons themselves. Human-bred or not, every male's spine tingled, and they truly felt the urge to cringe upon the ground. All the more discomforting was the masked dragonelles' turning their bodies to shield the hatchlings from what would happen next—not from attack, but from dragon wrath.
Ouistrela roared and grabbed the captain around the waist with her teeth, found the same fire within her that had saved her new clutch from his companions, and whipped her head from the side. The impact from his body slamming into the side of the mountain created a crater the width of a dragon's saa. Slowly the corpse peeled away from the rock and landed on the ground far below in a heap, for it had collided with the cave well over a dragon-length above the top of the entrance. He was no doubt already dead, but his two subordinates made the perfect audience.
So they made sure not to waver.
Natasatch struck the body into the air with her tail…
Ahsharel caught the carcass in the air, snapped her head, and tore a leg off while tossing it to Ooyanashe…
Ooyanashe took and arm and tossed it to Epinonia…
Epinonia batted the body to Saima…
Saima passed the body to Emallagnia, and from her to Aletheelia, and then to Vaarashathe…
Vaarashathe caught the body by the remaining leg. Then, in a move that contradicted her stay in a cavern since her hatchling days, decades ago, she beat her wings and at once rose high into the air high above them, and climbed so high that even to dragon eyes she appeared as a black dot against the Sun.
The body exploded into a bloody mess when it hit the ground. The force of the dragonelle throwing it away from her, plus the force of Earth himself wanting all to walk upon him, brought the captain down faster than a diving falcon.
Vaarashathe landed with a thud, on all four legs in a crouch, and torched the impact site.
"Horrors! Horrors!" the two young men screamed.
"No," Frostcrest said poignantly, "they are dragonelles. Be grateful they chose to spare you."
"For the moment," added Lavawhip.
Several pairs of red eyes rounded on the humans. Ooyanashe charged over to the Red, snatched up one of the men, and turned away toward the cavern. "Make yourself useful, fighter, and bring the other so we may have our eggs back!" The male did just that, and disappeared into the cave with her. Their screams faded away quickly.
Even the Wind was silent.
"AuRon," said his mate, "have you something else that will free the other dragonelles from their cages? We've lost the dwarsaw."
"I haven't."
"Perhaps another set of sii would work," said Frostcrest in his noble manner. "We would be happy to try and free you."
"Oh-ho," Ouistrela snorted, "so now you show interest? Did it not occur to you to free us from our confines and our hatchlings—your hatchlings—from the Wyrmmaster ages ago? How dragons flake like old scale!"
"Ouisa!" the other females exclaimed.
"And you lot are as bad as they if you question me! For decades, we have been captive here, decades, and week after week the males strutted into the prison, rutted us, and walked away, leaving us alone to watch our young be taken hours after they were laid, and did not once think of us! Were they real dragons they would have stopped this long ago!"
"Ouistrela, they were lied to—" said Natasatch.
"And still you defend them, Natasa! They never once cared—"
"Starlight never cared! Truly he was as you say, and bullied us all into submission with his poison! When he attacked my mate, he still fought for the Wyrmmaster and defended his name! These males here have redeemed themselves!"
"Lies!" Anything else she might have wanted to say was cut off when she was cracked across the nose by Epinonia's tail. She staggered back and shook her head, trying to clear the stars from her eyes, only to reel again when the other dragonelle caught her again. "What is this?"
Enough, Ouistrela!" Epinonia thundered. "Truly, you are overcome by bitterness and wrath! If you cannot see that these dragons have gained great honor, then you are as bad as Starlight!"
"Why—" For once, Ouistrela was genuinely rendered speechless.
"Is this the dragonelle your hatchlings should know, Ouistrela? Should they know the bitter, vengeful, marauding female who would not ally with noble dragons as their dame? As it is, we have unleashed our fury upon the deserving Dragonguard; we need not strike against our own kind, as well!"
"Enia—"
"And think of this: you will need another to hunt for you. The alternative? You leave your hatchlings alone and open to attack. Would you rather that, or your lord to aid you?"
Ouistrela did not answer. Saima stepped away from the other females and lowered her head in front of Frostcrest. "If you don't mind, fighter, would you…?"
"Certainly," replied the White. He tried to pry the lock of the cage open with a sii claw, but the humans had planned ahead and made sure the keyhole was too small for a claw to fit, even another dragon's claw. "We will have to find your dwarsaw, AuRon. I cannot open this, I'm afraid."
Ooyanashe came out of the cave, still glowering, followed by the Dragonguardsmen and Lavawhip, bringing up the rear. The humans carried leather-bound books in their arms. Their eyes darted around the assembly of dragons at the mouth of the cave. The dragonelle carried the dwarsaw in her sii. "I have it right here."
"Ah, you're a wonder, Yana!" said one of the masked females. "Hurry and take these off!"
If the drakes had any doubt in the stories they had heard from the adults, it bled away as they watched their mothers sawing their cages off. The drakka among them shuddered as they heavy metal fell to the ground in a pile. Had the rebellion not taken place, the Wyrmmaster would have sent them to the breeding caverns as soon as their wings had uncased to replace Nereeza, Ktarata, and possibly Ouistrela. The hatchlings were still too young to have known about such things prior to this, and crept forward to sniff at the cages the dragonelles had worn. The now freed females shook their heads and cracked their jaws after years of wearing them.
"My, how good that feels," said Saima. A few of the hatchlings peeped when their noses touched the metal.
"H-Have you any more need of us?" the two humans whimpered.
Lavawhip rolled an eye towards them. "Oh, yes, you two are still here. First you will tell all assembled what passed within."
"W-We have returned all of your eggs to each of your caverns, as the dragonelle requested, and we made sure not to change their position and suffocate the young."
"Wise of you," said Ouistrela.
"What else?" prompted the Red.
"We have told the dragons where our stores of metal for weapons is kept, and where the herds of cattle and sheep are grazed. And the Wyrmmaster's maps of the Isle are in his quarters, so that the dragonelles may move their young when they are old enough."
"And how are we to do that?" asked Vaarashathe.
"The carts we used to move your eggs are still intact. You can use those to shuttle your young to a new cave."
"Will there be anything else?" asked the other human.
"Remove your armor," said Wrathflame. They did so as quickly as possible and stood there quivering. The Red turned to the drakes and drakka. Go on, then. At them. They seemed a little startled at the male's mindspeech, but they recovered and broke away from the adults and lunged forward. The humans took off running, as they had been from the start, now with more dragon pursuers.
Ooyanashe lashed her tail irritably. "Their fate at the hands of those young ones is all too deserved."
"Should they not have been kept alive, though?" asked Frostcrest. "They have sorted the eggs, but what of the hatchlings? How will they know their dames?"
Finally satiated with the deaths of their hatchlings' kidnappers, the dragonelles prummmed at the thought. It was Ouistrela, of all dragons, who was happy to answer. We've a way to remedy that, fighter."
"It was an idea given to us by some of the older dragonelles in the caverns, those who had been among the first to be bought by the Wyrmmaster," Ahsharel added as her sister took her place before the curious hatchlings. "From them many among us also took to smashing eggs to spare our young this fate."
Ouistrela made her thoughts plain to all. Rough, they were, as expected from a dragonelle as brash as she.
Hatchlings of mine own flesh, know me. Know your dame: Ouistrela, daughter of Eszreethene, mate of SuSammen, line of SuHalarith.
And, as if by feat of powerful elvish magic, ten hatchlings of varying ages peeped happily and gathered around her. "Fate and miracles, my dears, you recognize my voice!" cried Ouistrela—a dragonelle of formidable temper to all—in such glee that she seemed a different female (thanks in no small part to two hard tail-whips over the snout). The other females perked with hope, while the males stood a-gasp.
"What…is this?" Frostcrest breathed.
Aletheelia stepped forward next. "When each one of us were brought to the cavern, we were told by the other females to use all of our willpower to instill our names and lineage to each of our clutches. We thought that, if we would ever meet again, they would know something of their kind…especially our daughters when they fledged. To think that Ktarata may have been one of the past females' own."
"Amazing," Wrathflame replied. The scene overwhelmingly moved him like the other dragons.
Aletheelia projected her thoughts next, her inner voice making her words into song, which reverberated as though she used her real voice.
Sons, daughters, hatchlings mine,
Know your dame and of your line.
From clutch of Ohkrahna I came,
Though little I recall of precious dame.
Mate of regal Gold was she,
ImRignant was sire, son of ImNezarath he.
And to her ran fifteen or so ecstatic hatchlings.
The dragonelles continued thus, until Saima, Epinonia, Ahsharel, Vaarashathe, Ooyanashe, and Emallagnia had found their young. By that time, the drakes and drakka had returned from their hunt, and they, too—with some coaching, as they were not able to remember the songs so easily—stood with their blooded mothers. Only a small group of twenty-five hatchlings and two drakka remained.
AuRon turned to his mate. "What of you, Natasatch?"
"None are mine, my lord," she replied quietly. "Most had venom like Starlight and were eliminated…if they hatched." (Her mate growled at the thought of the diminutive Silver.)
"Tell me, young ones," said Vaarashathe. "Do any among you remember the name 'Nereeza?'" They thought hard, and the two drakka plus another female hatchling and two males agreed. "Very good!"
"I will take them as my own," said Ouistrela. She had successfully repelled every dragon except Starlight (for even she was not brave enough to tangle with the venomer), and had subsequently borne less hatchlings that her sisters. And, as was the rule, those who took after their father were eliminated, reducing the numbers even more. The ages of the young around her varied greatly. "I will also raise Nereeza's last egg as well and Ktarata's clutch along with mine. The girls can help me." She prummed as the two Greens led their younger siblings to her, leaving only eight hatchlings.
Ahsharel sniffed at them approvingly. "These beauties must be of Alhala's—" She bolted upright, scaring the hatchlings. "Flames and dames, where is Alhala?"
The other dragons jumped. By the Spirits, they had lost track of her!
"She was outside with us earlier, when the drakes first appeared with the humans, I'm sure of it!" Natasatch replied.
"She was not in the cavern when Lavawhip and I were in there, either," added Ooyanashe. "Her cave was next to Epinonia's, and she could not have snuck past. I surely would have heard her."
"Are you certain?" asked Epinonia.
"Very. I checked the fresh eggs you and Ouisa laid to make sure they had not been harmed from the heat, and I laid foua next to each clutch after the humans had returned them to maintain their warmth."
"She might have slipped away somewhere else," said Aletheelia. "The blighters made tunnels everywhere—there are probably many more besides the paths we know. Watch over your siblings, my drakes." She got up and walked over to Alhala's young. "Come, Natasa, let us go into the cave and find her."
"Perhaps Seecrest went with her," Lavawhip said.
"Seecrest?"
"He has disappeared, too."
"Alhala? Alhala, are you there?" Natasatch called into the gloom of the cavern. The hatchlings walked between her and Aletheelia, and Lavawhip had gone ahead to look for Seecrest. They moved slowly, stopping at junctions to listen for telltale sounds.
"By my egg, I hope Alhala is all right," said the other dragonelle.
"As do I. Clutching is taxing enough as it is, never mind the added exertion of a revolt."
"May the Spirits watch over her."
They heard a roar from the clutching cave, one that rivaled AuRon's, and Lavawhip's voice immediately after. "War and fire, Seecrest, what are you doing?"
"Stay here, Theelia! I will return shortly!" And Natasatch sprinted away down the tunnel.
Lavawhip stood against the cave wall opposite the entrance, crouched and ready to defend his hide from the angry Blue. Seecrest faced him just within the cave, griff lowered and eyes blazing red. "None shall harm my mate!"
"Your mate?" countered the Red. "What are you talking about? I came to look for you both! Two others follow me to do the same!"
"Away with you!"
"What goes on here?" cried Natasatch. "You would attack your ally, Seecrest?"
"None shall harm her!"
"Fire and Earth, he's gone mad, I tell you!" said Lavawhip.
"We came to see that Alhala was not distressed," said Natasatch. "And we've a precious gift for her—"
"What gift could you give her?"
"We give her the hatchlings the humans would have serving them," said Aletheelia.
All eyes focused on her. "What?"
"Theelia, I told you—" said Natasatch.
"Bother what you told me. These hatchlings need their mother."
My hatchlings? Came Alhala's weak thought. Seecrest forgot his rage and darted back to her alcove. Aletheelia pushes past Natasatch and led the hatchlings into the cave. They were overwhelmed by the size of the space and cowered as closely to the dragonelle as best they could.
Aletheelia reached the alcove. "Yes, Hala. These hatchlings are of your blood." Seecrest snarled at her presence, and for that the clutched female tail-whipped him on the side of his head. The blow was enough to shock him to his senses, and he took to a ledge, out of the way.
Alhala picked her head up, exhausted after laying her new clutch. The hatchlings peeped at the movement and hid behind Aletheelia. No, no, my dears, do not fear me. My mother was Beajara, daughter of Habearana, and my father was HharSeele, Line of HharDyenat. I am Alhala, your mother. Do you remember? They started to go to her, but the Blue's presence made them hesitant. This time their mother used her voice. "He is of no threat to you, my hatchlings. Were he, he would not be anywhere near my clutch, or you." That seemed to be enough to settle their nerves, and they huddled around her. A little blue male looked up at Seecrest and squawked at him.
"A worthy male if ever I saw one," Aletheelia chuckled. "He will be an army unto himself someday, but for mate and clutch, not man."
"True," Alhala replied, drawing her tongue across over the male's back. "But he needn't worry about that for years."
"And of course he will have you to look to as Father, will he not, Seecrest?"
The male looked away sheepishly. "If I am welcome to do so." Alhala prummed a little as she gazed up at him from her ledge.
"Be that as it may, you will have to share this cavern with the rest of us. We've clutches here and hatchlings too young to move to another cave on the Isle, even with the egg carts."
Natasatch joined them. "With so many young hatchlings, I think it would be wise to wait a few more months."
"Let us go tell them all is well and that they can reclaim their caves."
Soon the clutching cave was full of dragonelles and their young, as loud as the hatchling cave had been days ago. As before, males approaching drakehood and dragonhood too to empty alcoves, away from the younger ones. They learned to hunt from the older males and went with them to help search for metals for their mothers and siblings. The drakka went hunting, as well, and stayed in the cave with the hatchlings to ease the dragonelles' burden. They were not so unused to the idea, AuRon learned, for they had at one time done this, when there were twice as many dragonelles in the cave (before they had taken to smashing eggs and were punished for it). It had only been a short time ago when the Wyrmmaster had the blighters dig new caves to house them.
"He did not want the girls to rebel for our sakes," Ooyanashe said. "When they were here, they wore metal cages, too."
"But why? If they could not lay eggs—" AuRon began.
"We were muzzled because we burned the men where they stood, Grey, as we were chained to the cave wall to limit our reach with claw and tail. Drakka, as you well know, can breathe fire, and a few years ago one took up our fight by turning the egg-gatherers into pyres. From that point on, they were required to wear cages like ours, but they were still allowed to be in our cave. So, when we destroyed eggs, the Wyrmmaster separated us from the drakka outright, so they could not dash in, smash the eggs, and run away while we were pinioned with poles."
"But, we knew what would happen, sir," said one of her own elder daughters. She pointed at the roof of the cave with her nose. A row of what AuRon took to be ventilation holes were cut through the rock. "We could hear everything from our cave, and some of us saw what happened to the dragonelles if they smashed their eggs, if our alcove was close enough to those holes. They had Starlight come into the cave and kill one of the females himself once he had fledged!"
"…And you were caged still?" he asked. Where is his body so I can torch it all over again?
"We were."
"It is easier to lie to a drake about his part in a plan such as this, Grey," said Ooyanashe. "But, to a drakka, no matter what the reasons, you are doing nothing but stealing eggs from dragonelles, like a snake in a bird's nest."
The males of the fighting and breeding stock remained in their old caves for the first few days. They left to take the drakes and drakka hunting for food and returned to deliver it, and nothing more (mostly because Ouistrela was no longer caged and chained). AuRon insisted that he stay, as well, but they told him to take Natasatch to a cave of their own, far from the compound, and sire hatchlings of his own. Frostcrest volunteered to take his place as "overseer."
"We will say this," the White said. "The Wyrmmaster was able to tame our territorial natures so that we could live together, without concern of noble birth and status as it had been in past dragon kingdoms. And if the state of our kind is truly as dire as you say, we will be sure to live separately…together."
"But with so many here, food supplies—"
"We've enough food here for the dragonelles and the young, and we can hunt elsewhere for ourselves until we all spread out."
AuRon liked the well-mannered White immensely.
He and Natasatch decided to take shelter in a nearby cave temporarily before they left the compound forever. But they were still there long enough to see most of the dragons and dragonelles pair off.
The White slipped quietly into the dragonelles' cave late in the afternoon, cold from the morning rain. He was grateful to be out of the drafts of the main passageway and in a much warmer branch. In his mouth he carried a grown farming horse, full of bone and fuller in muscle, and in his sii he carried her foal, squealing for its mother, as well as another dead one. The alcove he was destined for was midway through the greater cavern, concealed by the bolstered wall of stone that had been the dragonelles' request. Even he, a near-grown male, had to partly rear up on his haunches to see over the top of the barriers. The thunder of hatchlings, drakes, and drakka was reduced to a whisper, for Ouistrela's eggs—both her own and Ktarata's and Nereeza's—had hatched very early this morning, with Alhala's not far behind. Seecrest had been all a-twitter that morning when the males had taken the newly fledged dragons and dragonelles flying.
He reached the alcove and dropped the mare and dead foal onto the ground. "Here we are, young ones. The adult is for your mother, and the other for you."
The resident dragonelle prummed softly, watching her hatchlings crowd the foal. "What of the other, Frostcrest?"
"Well, Taraya did so well in her flying lesson this morning, as well as with hunting and teaching her siblings, I thought she might like to lead some them in a hunt right now." Older hatchlings about to bite into the carcass looked up.
"Truly?" the dragonelle piped up from a boulder next to her mother's ledge. Scar tissue still clung to her back from where her wings had uncased only days ago.
"Indeed. Now you lot mind what he tells you, understood?" They agreed in earnest. He set the panicked foal down. "Off with you, now!" Taraya leapt from her boulder and flew to block the foal from escaping while her siblings caught up.
"You are so kind to them, Frostcrest," Epinonia said, prumming louder.
He picked up the mare and brought it closer, minding his footing lest he trod hatchling or egg. "For you."
"My, how large this is! I shan't be able be able to finish it all!" She looked up at him. Will you not partake?"
"Yes. I'm full on fish." He, like all of the dragons, had denied his appetite for blood-meat with fish from the rivers and lakes of the Isle. They had decided early on that all land meat should go to the females and young, who needed it much more than they. "But I thank you for your offer. The hatchlings can have what is left."
"How very kind you are, fighter." She bit into the abdomen and ate the mare's liver, then tore into the rich flank.
His tail twitched incessantly. "I've heard that Ouistrela has allowed one of us to share her alcove recently. Is this so?"
"Yes, though I could hardly believe it," she chuckled.
"I had always hoped she would take a mate."
"You are mistaken in that. She uses him as a provider of food for her and her young because he is suitable."
"Oh?"
"So she says, only because she refuses to leave her young alone. I suppose even damehood is not enough to quell her fury. But he shows favor for Emallagnia. A shame, really—Wrathflame was a match for her temper, to be sure."
"'RuMat,' you mean."
She looked up from her meal. "How's that?"
He cleared his throat. "We decided to take proper dragon names when we were mated."
Epinonia blinked. "Oh…so if Wrathflame has chosen 'RuMat,' then what have the others called themselves?"
"Seecrest goes by 'RhaSeen' now."
"An honorable name. Do go on."
"Shadowcatch has taken 'NooShoahk," after listening to AuRon's tale of living with the Black and coming hear. Shieldwall chose 'HaSamaht'; Sharpclaw chose 'CaLofom'; Hawkhit chose 'ReSye'; and Lavawhip chose 'FeHaal.'"
"I shall have a time of it, trying to get used to all of that," she said.
"I still have trouble sometimes, myself," he laughed.
"And you?"
His tail twitched more. "Well, I haven't a name yet."
"Why ever not?"
"Well…those of us who favored the most recent dames vowed to wait until the eggs hatched…if they were to accept us."
Epinonia began to prumm again. "Well, Hala's and Ouisa's clutches only hatched this morning."
"That they did." Now his tail thrashed about of its own accord."
"And Ouisa certainly wouldn't entertain the notion of taking a mate, unlike Hala, and he's changed his name."
"True enough."
"So that only leaves my eggs, yes?"
"Yes."
Done with the foal, the hatchlings stood transfixed by their mother's change of color: from green as a meadow to that of an evergreen. "Well, then, I suggest you chose your name now."
"…What?"
"I have been hearing taps for quite some tie."
The White looked flabbergasted. "They have? My apologies, I did not realize I had intruded!"
"It is no intrusion," she replied. She uncoiled her tail from around her clutch—an old habit from the late Wyrmmaster's reign—and revealed four jostling eggs. Already, the shells had split enough to reveal the young within. "Rather, you have perfect timing."
The White returned her prumm and stepped around to her front, touching noses with hers. The ledge the dragonelles used was low, so even at his size he could recline on the cave floor and not tower over her. He would change that when he took her outside in the Sun and build p her strength.
"Besides," Epinonia continued, "you've already a son among them."
"What?" He looked at the hatchlings; one of the eldest, probably on the verge of drakehood, gleamed white!
Frostcrest was the only White in recent memory, he knew, the son of another White that had had his only surviving young stolen from him and his wounded mate in a raid ordered by the Wyrmmaster, according to Dragonguard records. He had mated, once, with Epinonia, after his wings had uncased, and was thrown against another dragon in the Wyrmmaster's trials as quickly as he had been put in the breeding cavern. He had lost, and saw no female ever again until the revolt. How long ago had that been? Five or six months ago? The hatchling looked to be about four or five months old now, well within that timeframe. "Why, I thought him to be a Silver…."
"In his early months, he did," Epinonia replied, "but it was hard to notice in this dim light. He is iridescent, as you are—your scale carries many colors, as well as white, and now that he had eaten blood-meat instead of fish, full of iron and other minerals, his scale has improved immensely in only a month's time."
His son. His siblings carried his blood, but he was the only one to display his inherited coloring. Proof of when he had mated his mother…
In a cold, dank cave with the Dragonguard listening from the entrance of the cave.
Epinonia read his mind and rubbed her head against his. "Do not think of it. It is the past, and you have to overcome it."
"But—"
She gazed at him evenly. "Do you forget what I told Ouisa a month ago? The Dragons of the Isle of Ice have proven worthy to dragon-kind and dragonelle. Starlight proved exception, but only he."
He opened his mouth to protest. Closed it; opened it. Then he sighed and nuzzled her again. "If you think me worthy, then blood and brood, I accept the praise." He leaned down and sniffed the white hatchling; the latter pepped happily, earning a tongue-flick from his father.
Taraya and the others returned from their hunt, a bit puzzled by the sight of the dragon so close to their mother. "Good, you have arrived," she said. "Come here, my dears. I've much to tell."
"What is it, Mother?" asked one of the drakes.
"You all remember well what I have told you of this place, yes?" The young nodded; their father stiffened. By the Spirits, they know?
She nuzzled the male to reassure him. "This is the dragon you shall know as Father, who shall live to be a gallant male, greatly besung. You will carry his name proudly in your songs, his tale of deeds and manner so worthy of such treatment." She looked at him. "And what name shall they know, my lord?"
Had…had she…? "Yes, I did, my lord. Premature, I suppose, but, well…everything here is backwards, isn't it?" she added with a prumm.
The gallant White felt a tingle travel down his spine and tail and back again. After a tongue-flick for his would-be mate and pride of song, he said:
"Know me as LaMere, son of LaHelozhe, line of LaDraktom, and his mate Zudasmene, line of OuStreleth." He remembered his mother's words as she lay gasping for breathe, behind her protective mate. He sent a mind-picture to the hatchlings of his first two months in his home cave, located near a village of elves that had gladly lived alongside his parents for years. They prummed at the warm feelings invoked.
"Now, Epinonia continued "I shall now tell you all about our future here. After your new siblings emerge and grow a bit, your Father and I will take flight and be mated."
"Are you not already, Mother?" one of the female hatchlings asked.
"Not by our kind's traditions, daughter. To properly be united, we must take part in a wondrous practice. I showed you pictures of it some time ago. Do you remember?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Your Father and I will both take to the skies, where he shall sing of his line and of his deeds, and after a fashion, we will be mated." She gave them fresh mind-pictures of the event, only with the White beside her as the male in question. "Many more of us will so this. 'Twill be a flight of sire and dame."